soup-dish and all, and frightening poor mother almost out of her senses.

"Have you scalded yourself, dear?" she cried, running toward me, and I
was nearly faint as I replied:

"Only a thought. I am so sorry about the soup, but it was a terrible
thought," and then I told her.

No word of chiding came from her lips. I thought I saw tears in her eyes
as she said: "I should not like to leave you, dear. We are very happy
here together," and I know my eyes were moist as I thought, "Emily did
it," but her mother understands her.

How necessary all those days of feeling, full and deep, combined with
the details of practical life were to me, and although I shall never
date pleasant memories back to my earlier years, still if I had been too
carefully handled and nursed I never could have enjoyed those days so
much.

Nearly twenty-four months of uninterrupted work and enjoyment passed
over me--and here is a thought from that first experience in soul
growth; I cannot ever believe that people will enjoy themselves lazily
in heaven more than here; I have another, only a vague idea of how it
will be, but I cannot think of being idle there--when a little change
appeared, only to usher in what proved to be a greater one, and the days
of the June month in which the first came I shall never forget. It was
when Hal came to me, hemming and thinking under my favorite tree in the
old orchard, while beside me lay my scrap-book in which I from time to
time jotted thoughts as they came to me. Hal sat down beside me and said
at once: