Mr. Mordecai was proud of Leah; proud of her attainments at school,
gratified with her grade of deportment, and delighted that she had
"finished," and with so much credit. As she entered the library, he
arose, and clasping her in his arms, imprinted first a good-morning
and then a congratulatory kiss upon her face.

"I am proud of my daughter," he said; "proud that no one at Madam
Truxton's excelled my own Leah. I am proud of your example to your
sisters, and trust they will strive to emulate it."

"Thank you, father. I hope I shall never cause you shame," she
replied with tenderness.

During this brief dialogue, the evil-eyed mother had sat an
attentive listener, her jealous nature stirred to its depths. Then
she said:

"If you are so proud of Leah now, what will you feel when Sarah is
through school?"

"Additional happiness, I trust; and following her sister's example,
she cannot disappoint papa," said Mr. Mordecai, stroking Sarah upon
the head softly, as he arose and led the way to the breakfast table.

The morning repast was finished with more than becoming haste, for
Mr. Mordecai had waited to welcome his daughter, and would
consequently be late at his bank.

"It's real late," said Leah, as she followed her father from the