much to think of by studying objects and persons--reading persons
instead of books."

"Yes," added Sarah Bond; "and seeing how much there is to admire in
every development of nature, and how much of God there is in every
human being."

As they passed along the village street, Mabel observed that the
cottagers looked after them, and several of her little pupils darted
their heads in and out of their homes, and laughed; she thought that
some village fun was afloat, that some rural present of flowers, or
butter, or eggs, had been sent--a little mysterious offering for her
to guess at; and when she turned to fasten the wicket gate, there were
several of the peasants knotted together talking. A sudden exclamation
from her aunt, who had entered the cottage, confirmed her suspicion;
but it was soon dissipated. In their absence, their old friends Mr.
Goulding and the curate had arrived by the coach, and entered their
humble dwelling. From a wagon at the same time were lifted several
articles of old furniture, which were taken into the cottage, and
properly arranged. There were two old chairs, an embroidered stool,
a china vase, a cabinet, a table, and the spinnet. Strangely the
furniture looked on the sanded floor, but never was the spiciest
present from India more grateful to its receiver than these were to
the eyes of Sarah Bond. She felt as if a ban was removed from her
when she looked upon the old things so valued by her father. Absorbed
in the feelings of the moment, she did not even turn to inquire how
they had so unexpectedly come there. Nor did she note the cold and
constrained greeting which Mabel gave to Mr. Lycight. She herself,
after the first self-engrossed thoughts were past, turned to give both
gentlemen the cordial reception which their many former kindnesses,