upon her face; and the songs she had sung and the beautiful stories she
had told came back, too, on angel wings, and made sweet music in that
chamber.

The children were lingering on the beach when Edward came that day. He
could hear them singing the songs Margaret had taught them. They wondered
that he came alone.

"See," cried one of the boys, running to meet him and holding a tiny shell
in his hand,--"see what we have found in this strange little shell. Is it
not beautiful!"

Edward took the dwarfed, misshapen thing, and lo! it held a beauteous
pearl.


_O little sister mine, let me look into your eyes and read an
inspiration there; let me hold your thin white hand and know the strength
of a philosophy more beautiful than human knowledge teaches; let me see in
your dear, patient little face and hear in your gentle voice the untold
valor of your suffering life. Come, little sister, let me fold you in my
arms and have you ever with me, that in the glory of your faith and love I
may walk the paths of wisdom and of peace_.

1887.




+THE SPRINGTIME+