*

ing like a blighted tree among the green foliage and full blossoming branches of a more genial, a more hopeful age.

As Fanny had supposed, Ruth was a great help to Amy in all her labors of charity. If anything was to be sent to the sick or the sorrowful, Ruth was always at leisure to take it if Amy expressed the apprehension lest she were too much fatigued with her duties at home to visit the poor, she would answer, "Kindness will creep, ma'am, where it cannot run; what good I can do will never hurt me."

Soon after Amy's school was established, she went to pass the evening at her cousin's. When Mr. Roberts came in, she said to him, "I have been wanting to tell you how much pleased I am that you approve of my school, and to thank you for your very liberal aid."

Mr. Roberts had only a slight, and that not a very agreeable recollection, of what Fanny had said to him, about the school, and did not know what she had given.

"I was not aware," he said, "of deserving your thanks; what school do you mean? I doubt not, Amy, I shall think well of it, if it is your work."

"I thought, Fanny, that you wrote me

word that your husband approved of my

school."

"I did so," replied Fanny, "and he certainly said that he did; but we must not expect men who are so entirely occupied with rail-roads, and silk-worms, coal-mines, and sugar-beets, Swedish turnips and steam-boats, to think of such common things as dirty crying children. You know that he is now engaged in public improvements, which, if you have observed, have no reference to the individual good of human beings. On they go, these public improvers like their own steam-engines, running over blind men and pigs, deaf old women and cows, children and geese; and the best you can hope for is, that, out of common mercy, they will invent a contrivance by which they can catch up whoever is in their way, and carry him off, nolens volens, nobody knows where. If your school could be benefited by a rail-road to Chargoggagoggmanchoggagogg Pond,I advise you, my dear, to come to Mr. Roberts for assistance."

Fanny paused here, because she was out of breath; she observed that her husband did not much relish what she intended for sport, but she enjoyed it herself too well to stop

even for his sake. She continued,

"I heard,

the other day, of one poor fellow who ventured on the top of a rail-road car which went at such a rate that when he stopped, and happened to look in the glass, he discovered that he had lost his wig, nose, and teeth on the road."

"What nonsense, Fanny! come be serious, I want to tell Mr. Roberts how well my school succeeds. It is your fault, I doubt not, that he knows nothing of it."

“When did you ever speak of it?" asked her husband.

"The day," replied. Fanny, "when you and Mr. Elton walked out to Brookline and returned so late to dinner."

"I remember it all now ; " said Mr. Roberts, "I believe, however, I was in season for dinner." A slight shade came over his face as he spoke.

"I don't think I looked at the paper at all, or knew what Fanny subscribed. I felt sure that if it was a plan of yours, Amy, I should like it, and that whatever money Fanny gave for that object would be well spent."

There was an emphasis upon the last part of this remark; for Mr. Roberts had lately

thought his wife foolishly and wastefully extravagant in her expenses, and he had once intended to say so; but his remem→ brance of the pain he felt, at the little misunderstanding we have before mentioned, made him unwilling to speak, lest Fanny should be displeased. Unconsciously, the smothered disapprobation he had felt towards his wife had affected the whole tone of his remarks, and gave them the appearance of a decided censure. Fanny felt it deeply, and was much irritated.

"I well know," she said, "that Amy is a far better judge of every thing than I am. Suppose, my dear, we let her plan all our proceedings; and suppose that, in order that all your money should be well spent, you keep the purse altogether to yourself; and I will come to you, when I want a paper of pins, and say, Please, Mr. Roberts, give me a quarter of a dollar, to buy me some pins."

All this was said with a forced laugh; but any one, who understood Fanny's face, might see that it was only a strong effort of pride, that kept her from bursting into tears. Mr. Roberts felt he had been unjust and unkind to his wife; he saw how deeply he had hurt her; he knew, that if he thought her extrav

agant in her expenses, he ought to have told her of it at another time, and in another way. He was angry with himself; he wanted to say this to her, but how could he before another person?

Poor Amy knew not what to say. She felt that she was in the way; but what could she do? Presently she said, "Fanny, dear, you promised to visit my school. If Mr. Roberts be at leisure, I shall expect you both to-morrow."

By this time, they had recovered their self-possession, and Mr. Roberts said he would gladly come.

The remainder of the evening passed off heavily, in spite of some unsuccessful efforts which Mr. Roberts made to entertain Amy. There was wanting that most essential charm in an intercourse between friends-frankhearted truth, and a fearless expression of it.

As soon as they were alone, Mr. Roberts said to Fanny, "My dear wife, how could I give you so much pain? I know not what possessed me. I did not think of the construction that might be put upon what I said."

Fanny could only answer by her tears. At last, when she was able to speak, she said, "What could induce you, William, to