sure she has a great mind. When I read of Mrs. Judson and Elizabeth
Fry, or of any of those grand creatures, I always think of Carrie.
How few girls of nineteen would deprive themselves of half their
dress allowance, that they might devote it to the poor; she has given
up parties because she thinks them frivolous and a waste of time; and
though she plays so beautifully, mother can hardly get her to
practice, because she says it is a pity to devote so much time to a
mere accomplishment, when she might be at school, or reading to poor
old Betty Martin."

"She might do both," put in Jessie, rather timidly; for she never
liked contradicting any of my notions, however far-fetched and
ill-assorted they might be. "Do you know, Esther, I fancy your mother
is a little sorry that Carrie is so unlike other girls; she told me once
that she thought it such a pity that she had let her talents rust
after all the money that had been spent on her education."

"You must have misunderstood my mother," I returned, somewhat
loftily; "I heard her once say to Uncle Geoffrey that she thought
Carrie was almost perfection. You have no idea how much Mr. Arnold
thinks of her; he is always holding her up as his pattern young lady
in the parish, and declares that he should not know what to do
without her. She plays the organ at all the week-day services, and
teaches at the Sunday school, and she has a district now, and a
Bible-class for the younger girls. No wonder she cannot find time to
practice, or to keep up her drawing." And I looked triumphantly at
Jessie; but her manner did not quite please me. She might not be
clever, but she had a good solid set of opinions to which she could
hold stoutly enough.