stone pillars on a stone foundation, and surrounded by two steps raised
above the soil. It was a very quiet retreat. We could hear the distant
hum of the city and at the same time enjoy a view of the water and
shipping, as the land sloped down toward the harbor. I remember well
that one dark spring day, as we sat there cuddled up under the broad
slab, Lizzy gave me an account of a book she had just been reading. It
was the Memoir of Miss Susanna Anthony, by old Dr. Hopkins, of Newport.
She told me what a good and holy woman Miss Anthony was, how much she
suffered and how beautifully she bore her sufferings. My sympathy was
strongly excited and I exclaimed, "I do not see how it is _right_ for
God, who can control all things, to permit such suffering!" Lizzy
replied very sweetly, "Well, Carrie, we can't understand it, but I have
been thinking that this _might_ be God's way of preparing His children
for very high degrees of service on earth, or happiness in heaven." I
was deeply impressed with this remark; somehow it seemed to _stand by
me_, and I think it was a corner-stone of her faith.

This summer--that of 1833--her mother fitted up for her exclusive use
a small room called the "Blue Room," where she had all her books and
treasures--among them a writing desk which had been her father's. Here
all her leisure hours were spent. It was my privilege to be admitted
to this sanctuary, and many pleasant hours we passed together there. I
think Elizabeth was always religious. She knew a great deal then about
the Bible and often talked with me of divine things. She seemed to feel
a deep interest in my spiritual welfare. She loved to share with me her
favorite books. To her I was indebted for my acquaintance with George
Herbert, and with Wordsworth. She induced me to read "Owen on the 133d
Psalm," and Flavel's "Fountain of Life." In 1834 we both began to attend
the Free street Seminary, of which the Rev. Solomon Adams was then
Principal. Her sister had become assistant teacher with him. Our desks