Hatty and Marcus | Page 3

and never meant to do so again.
Ever since Hatty could speak, her mother had been teaching her about her Heavenly Father, and trying to make her love Him and wish to serve Him. The little girl had always listened patiently, but Mrs. Lee had never been satisfied that Hatty had made her choice to be among the lambs of Jesus' flock, who love to hear their Shepherd's voice, and try to follow Him. This letter, therefore, written in the frankness and simplicity of childhood, had brought joy to the mother's heart. She believed that the love of Christ had taken root in the soul of her child, and that by God's grace it would grow and strengthen, and in time bear such fruit as angels love to see.
Mrs. Lee had not only given the message Hatty sent to her brothers and sister, but she had read her letter to them, praying silently that by Hatty's example they might be led to choose God for their guardian and guide.
Marcus had listened intently, and had been moved more than he cared to show. When his mother laid the letter down, he said bluntly, "I have nothing laid up against Hatty," and abruptly left the room.
Now as he stood on the pavement leaning upon the broom, he was thinking of Hatty and her new resolution, and wondering if he should ever make up his mind to do right. Of one thing he was sure, doing wrong gave him no pleasure. He had been too well taught to be able to commit any sin, without being reminded of it by his conscience, but to obey that conscience was another thing.
Marcus could not help fancying that he should see some great change in Hatty, that she would look differently, speak differently,--and he made up his mind not to be at all pleased with her if she affected any new, serious ways. This was but a momentary feeling, for Marcus really loved his sister, and in the depths of his heart he rejoiced that she had chosen the best portion, the only blessing that will last forever and ever.

II.
Marcus spent so much time in meditating about Hatty and her new resolution, that he had but just finished his task, when the carriage, so anxiously desired, drove up to the door, and out jumped Mr. Lee, followed in another moment by Hatty.
Marcus threw down his broom, and sprang forward, and before he thought he had kissed Hatty several times. Marcus was not much in favor of kissing,--he thought it was "girlish;" but now he was so really glad, he did not think what he was about.
While Mr. Lee was attending to the removal of his carpet-bag, Hatty's little trunk, and sundry baskets and packages with which the carriage was loaded, Marcus and Hatty walked up the wide pavement together.
"You are a good sweeper, Marcus," said Hatty, looking at the clean bricks upon which they were stepping.
Marcus did not answer; he was gazing straight into Hatty's face to see if she were really altered. He could see no change, save that a few freckles about her nose disfigured her uncommonly fair skin, and told of the life in the open air she had lately led. Her red hair had not grown a shade darker during her absence, although it was brushed a little smoother than usual. Her bright, reddish brown eyes had their own lively expression, and her mouth seemed as ready as ever to smile, until all about it the tiny dimples came like little pin-pricks in her fair skin.
Hatty's face was not changed, certainly; and instead of having the grave manner that Marcus expected, she was all joy at her return, and seemed to have forgotten that she meant to be any better than any one else.
Hatty had not forgotten her new resolutions, and if Marcus could have seen into her heart at the moment she stepped from the carriage, he would have read a prayer that she might be able to live among her dear brothers and sister like one of the lambs of the flock of Christ.
Meg and Harry had heard the sound of the carriage wheels, and were on the door-step to receive Hatty. They first almost smothered her with kisses; then Meg untied her bonnet strings with rough kindness, and Harry seized her little travelling bag, as if it were his especial property.
Hatty was a particular little soul, and the way Meg took hold of the new blue satin ribbons of her leghorn flat, hurt her as much as if Meg had given her one of the twisting little pinches she knew so well how to inflict. Hatty was going to twitch away, but instead of the twitch came a bright blush on her cheek, that she should have so soon been