see in the solicitude of your face a faint reflection of the 'Not
willing that any should perish' which it ever seems to me is the
expression of His."

"Laura," said she abruptly, after a moment, "did any one ever tell you
that you were growing up very pretty?"

"No, auntie," said the girl, blushing and laughing.

"Mr. Haldane told you so this evening."

"O auntie, you are mistaken; he could not have been so rude."

"He did not make a set speech to that effect, my dear, but he told you
so by his eyes and manner, only you are such an innocent home child that
you did not notice. But when you go into society you will be told this
fact so often that you will be compelled to heed it, and will soon learn
the whole language of flattery, spoken and unspoken. Perhaps I had,
better forewarn you a little, and so forearm you. What are you going to
do with your beauty?"

"Why, auntie, how funny you talk! What should I do with it, granting
that it has any existence save in your fond eyes?"

"Suppose you use it to make men better, instead of to make them merely
admire you. One can't be a belle very long at best, and of all the
querulous, discontented, and disagreeable people that I have met,
superannuated belles, who could no longer obtain their revenue of
flattery, were the worst. They were impoverished, indeed. If you do as I
suggest, you will have much that is pleasant to think about when you