her school-room.

I was at once interested and impressed by the appearance of my teacher
that was to be. She was a dignified, kind-looking woman, who asked me
a few questions in such a pleasant, direct manner that I frankly told
her I was eighteen years old, very ignorant, and averse from learning;
but I did not speak loud enough for anybody beside herself to hear.

"Now," said mother, when we came away, "think how much greater your
advantages are than mine have ever been. How miserable was my youth!
It is too late for me to make any attempt at cultivation. I have
no wish that way. Yet now I feel sometimes as if I were leaving the
confines of my old life to go I know not whither, to do I know not
what."

But her countenance fell when she heard that Dr. Price had been a
Unitarian minister, and that there was no Congregational church in
Rosville.

She went to Boston that Friday afternoon, anxious to get safely home
with Veronica. We parted with many a kiss and shake of the hand and
last words. I cried when I went up to my room, for I found a present
there--a beautiful workbox, and in it was a small Bible with my name
and hers written on the fly-leaf in large print-like, but tremulous
letters. I composed my feelings by putting it away carefully and
unpacking my trunk.