THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 
 
 '1
 
 fi
 
 CORALIE AND ROSALIE. 
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 
 
 * It saves us from a thousand snares 
 
 To mind religion young; 
 Grace will preserve our following years, 
 And make our virtues strong." 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 "THE MOUSE IN THE PANTRY.' 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 JJrot. Episcopal untiu> .School 
 aiiti Cliurcfj iJook Socfctn, 
 
 7C2 BROADWAY. 
 1859.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, 
 By the GENERAL PKOTESTAHT EPISCOPAL Sr.Nn.tr SCHOOL UHIOK 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Soulhern 
 District of New York. 
 
 REN.VIE, SHEA & LINDSAY, 
 
 nxBorvraiui AND ELICTBOTYPIM 
 
 81,83, 485 Centr,-tr,-,l.
 
 TZ6 
 
 Aical 
 
 PUBLISHED 
 
 of 9t. 
 
 HARTFORD, CONN
 
 Co mg $jttt, 
 
 THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 
 BY HER A UNT. 
 
 rrLAND, Sept.. 1853 
 Feast of St. Michael and All Angel*.
 
 " MY LITTLE CHILDREN, LET US NOT LOVE IN WORD, NEI- 
 THEH IN TONGUE J BUT IN DEED AND IN TRUTH." 
 
 1 JOHN, III. 18.
 
 CORALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 THE LITTLE SISTEES OF CHARITY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 "WE are almost home. Come! wake up, 
 little ones." The speaker was a portly-look- 
 ing, silver-haired gentleman, who had been 
 jostled out of a sound sleep by a sudden turn 
 of the carriage. " Dear me ! I think I must 
 have been napping it myself. "Where are you 
 both ?" 
 
 " Here, sir," said a faint little voice at his 
 side. 
 
 "Both crowded in there, eh? "Why, you 
 are not big enough to be worth much. This 
 travelling is a tiresome business, and I am 
 heartily glad to be on dry land again. Come !
 
 8 COKALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 don't go to sleep again, for we are almost 
 home." 
 
 ""We have not been asleep, sir," said the 
 same little voice. 
 
 "You have not, eh? What is the use of 
 saying that? Children are always going to 
 sleep. "When I was a child, I was forever 
 taking naps on the sly ; especially in the dark. 
 This ride is interminable ; I hope we'll be 
 home in time for tea. Here ! one of you see 
 if you can tell me the time ; for I cannot see 
 without my glasses." He took out his watch, 
 and held it in the rays of one of the gas lamps 
 in the street, as they passed. 
 
 " Ten minutes past eight, sir." The voice 
 was a trifle fainter this time. 
 
 " Who is that, now ?" 
 
 " Kosalie, sir." 
 
 "Ah yes, I am sure to know it the echo 
 chirp, like two little wrens. Well, we'll soon 
 be home now. Cheer up !" At this moment, 
 the carriage gave such a lurch on one side of 
 the sfreet, that it drew the gentleman's at-
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAKITY. 9 
 
 tention to bad streets, bad driving, stupid 
 drivers, and a host of other disagreeables, and 
 he quite forgot his first intention, to entertain 
 the little girls, until the carriage stopped at his 
 own door. 
 
 " No yes ! why, we are really home. Hal- 
 loo, you stupid ! get down, and pull that bell, 
 and don't stop until the door is open. Come, 
 hurry yourself, sir ! I cannot carry children, 
 bags, bundles, and trunks, and ring up the 
 folks too." 
 
 " We can walk, sir," mildly urged a little 
 voice. 
 
 " Not a bit of it. That was Coralie that 
 spoke then, I know. Hold on tight, little 
 wren ; now for the other one on my right 
 arm that is it." And Mr. Somerville, who 
 seemed utterly to ignore his nieces' having 
 feet, or else the ability to use them, carried 
 them up the steps into the hall, and then into 
 the parlor, not stopping till he had placed 
 them side by side in a huge arm-chair. 
 
 " There, Charlotte, how are you ? A kiss
 
 10 CORALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 first. Why, Ernest, my boy, give us your 
 hand. Come, little ones, kiss your aunt and 
 cousin, and make friends." . 
 
 The little girls got out of their chair, and 
 walked to their strange aunt, and put up their 
 faces for her kiss ; the same to the young man, 
 who laughed and asked them if they would 
 lay off their bonnets and stay to tea, in a way 
 that seemed to amuse the old gentleman ex- 
 ceedingly, for he slapped him on the back, 
 and said 
 
 "Ah! Ernest, you're a sad rogue." Then 
 turning to the children, "Now, little folks, 
 off with your bonnets. I suspect they are half 
 famished, Charlotte ; and as for myself, I think 
 a hearty tea will not come amiss." 
 
 Mrs. Somerville stated that tea had been 
 waiting some time, and arose to lead the way 
 to the dining-room. 
 
 The poor little maidens could make nothing 
 of a meal. They crumbled their bread and 
 made ineffectual attempts to swallow the hot 
 tea, and looked so homesick and tired that Mr.
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAEITT. 11 
 
 Somerville, to his own great relief, made a 
 discovery, that they were sleepy. Acting 
 upon this hint, Mrs. Somerville rang for her 
 maid, and requested her to take the children 
 up to the nursery to Honor. 
 
 " Indeed, it's I that will care for them, and 
 get them right to bed," said kind old Honor, 
 taking them in her capacious arms. " It's 
 tired they are, and a night's rest will be the 
 best thing for them." And with a motherly 
 kiss bestowed on each pale face, she saw them 
 safely tucked in bed, not, however, without 
 many kind words and looks. 
 
 " O Cora," said Rosalie, when the nurse had 
 left them, "it is so strange here, and I am 
 so unhappy!" A strong sob came with the 
 last words as she sat up in the bed, and looked 
 around the strange, dark room. 
 
 " Ah ! papa has gone, and left us alone in 
 the world." 
 
 " And such a big, big world, Cora dear 
 such a lonesome place for us !" And Rosalie 
 leaned against her sister, and cried bitterly.
 
 12 COKAT.TF. AND EOSALIE, 
 
 " Poor little Eose, we will try to think of 
 our promise to papa, to love Uncle Charles 
 and be good little girls." 
 
 * But that will not be like having papa with 
 us, and living in our own dear home, Cora." 
 
 " I know that, Kose, but we can try to be 
 happy here, and mind aunt and uncle ; then 
 perhaps they will love us after awhile only 
 it is lonely now all alone." And the little 
 consoler ended in a burst of tears, as she flung 
 her arms around her sister's neck. It was but 
 for a moment, though ; for, quickly recovering 
 herself, she raised her head and spoke soothing 
 words, patted the pillow softly, and laid Kosa- 
 lie's tired head gently back, and with a low, 
 murmuring, cooing noise, lulled her to rest. 
 
 " Poor little wee ones," said Honor, looking 
 in upon the sleeping children before going to 
 her cot-bed in the adjoining room ; "it makes 
 my heart sore to see them looking so lonesome 
 like. I'll do my best for them, and that is the 
 truth." She gave her nose a long blow as she 
 turned away.
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAKITY. 13 
 
 Mrs. Somerville was a very good-tempered 
 lady, very fond of driving out with her 
 handsome son, and very fond of her ease, and 
 a quiet house when at home. One can im- 
 agine, therefore, that she was not exactly the 
 person to have the care of her husband's 
 orphan nieces. Kind she certainly was when 
 they met, which was very seldom, kind in 
 giving them a nod and smile of recognition, or 
 extending two fingers for them to shake, and 
 thinking that all that was expected of her. It 
 never crossed her mind that they were pining 
 for affectionate caresses, and a parent's love. 
 They had their own apartments in one part 
 of the house, and old Honor to tend them ; 
 were brought down to the parlor every day 
 for a certain length of time, and on Sunday 
 nights took tea with the family ; but were so 
 intensely quiet and timid, and so glad to get 
 back to Honor again, that Mrs. Somerville felt 
 it a relief when the evening was over. 
 
 Mr. Somerville's method of entertaining 
 them was carrying them to the window to look
 
 14: COBALIE AND BOSALIE, 
 
 out, and around the parlors to see the paintings 
 that hung upon the walls, always telling 
 them to ask for any thing they wanted, and to 
 be good children, and mind Aunt Charlotte. 
 
 But in the kind nurse's company the chil- 
 dren gradually became accustomed to their 
 new home. They were more quiet than chil- 
 dren generally, and cared very little to play 
 with the dolls and toys with which their uncle 
 liberally presented them. Rosalie was too 
 languid and homesick ; and Coralie preferred 
 sewing for her doll to playing with it, and 
 would rather listen to Honor's stories, or read 
 to herself, than indulge in the restless amuse- 
 ments of children. 
 
 " This is a dreary night for the poor bodies 
 without a roof to shelter them from the cold 
 storm," said Honor, drawing up her big chair 
 to the nursery fire, a snowy November after- 
 noon. The room showed no signs of gloom. 
 A bright fire blazed in the grate, and Honor 
 in front of it, and the little ones, in small arm- 
 chairs opposite to each other, each by the side
 
 THE LITTLE 8I6TEBS OF CHAKITY. 15 
 
 of the fire, made altogether a very comfortable 
 twilight picture to look in upon. Dreary and 
 desolate it was to turn to the window, and see 
 through the curtains the snow whirling down ; 
 while the wind wailed and moaned so bitterly, 
 BO relentlessly cold, that Rosalie, who had never 
 seen such a storm before, was frightened, and 
 at last drew her chair near to Honor's, and 
 laid her head in the old woman's lap. 
 
 " Aunty dear," said Coralie, who had been 
 gazing silently into the fire for some minutes, 
 "do those good ladies you told of in your 
 story go out in the cold, dark nights like 
 this?" 
 
 " Sure and they do, my jewel, any time at 
 all to do a good turn for a fellow-creature. 
 That is all they live for and a blessed thing 
 it must be to be always doing somebody a 
 good turn." 
 
 " Oh, yes !" Coralie rubbed her small hands 
 together in her eagerness, as she answered. 
 "Aunty, if I was a woman, that is what I 
 would be, a sister of charity, and go all
 
 16 COB ALEE AND K08ALIE, 
 
 over, and pick up the little girls without any 
 fathers and mothers, and try to do them good." 
 
 " And let me help you, Cora dear?" 
 
 " Why, of course, little Rose ; how could I 
 do it unless you helped me ? O aunty ! if I 
 only could if I only could be of some use ! I 
 wish I was grown up." 
 
 " Ah ! my pets, 'tis the Lord puts the good 
 feelings into your hearts, and the good seed 
 will never run to waste." 
 
 " Do you think God put that thought into 
 Cora's heart, aunty ?" 
 
 " Ay, ay, rosebud." Honor patted the little 
 head that lay in her lap. 
 
 " Then it is not wrong for me to wish BO to 
 do something for somebody, to do some 
 good?" asked Coralie. 
 
 " Indeed, then, sorra a harm in it, my dar- 
 ling, that I can see. How that wind roars in 
 the chimney !" 
 
 "Rose, if we only could!" continued Coralie. 
 " How sorry I feel for the poor children that 
 have no home to-night." She walked to the
 
 THE LITTLE SI8TEE8 OF CHARITY. 17 
 
 window and peered out. It was dusky twi- 
 light, and for a time she leaned against the 
 casement, looking thoughtfully down into the 
 street. Suddenly her attention was attracted. 
 " Eose, do come here," she said. " Can you 
 see ? Is that not a boy sitting down on the 
 ground, the other side of the tree?" 
 
 " It is something, Cora, for it moves." 
 
 " Yes yes ! Oh, aunty dear, can I bring 
 him in ?" And the usually quiet child turned 
 eagerly to the door, and before Honor could 
 answer, ran from the room, down stairs, opened 
 the front door, and beckoned the boy to her. 
 She travelled as quickly back to the nursery. 
 " Here he is. Poor boy ! he is wet and rag- 
 ged, and so cold ! Take my chair and sit close 
 up to the fire. Aunty dear, how he shivers !" 
 
 " His feet are all wet," said Eosalie, half 
 crying. 
 
 " You're crazy to be out such a night. What 
 brought you to the street ? You better be off 
 home as soon as you get a good warming," 
 said Honor. 
 
 23
 
 COKALIE A3JD BO8ALIE, 
 
 " Haven't any. I'm all by myself. My ! but 
 that's the fine fire." 
 
 " Have you no father nor mother ?" 
 
 " They're both on 'em dead. Mickey brought 
 me to this country, and he's dead too, and I 
 am all alone now. But I niver expected to 
 see such a fine fire the night." And the boy 
 gave a shrill little whistle, and put his head on 
 one side, drawing down his eye so knowingly, 
 that both of the children smiled. 
 
 " I'll not be the one to let the orphan want 
 for food, when I can get it for him. But first, 
 my pretty ones, the mistress's leave to keep 
 him for the night." 
 
 Mrs. Somerville's permission gained, ar- 
 rangements were made to stow the boy away 
 in one of the garret rooms, for a night's rest. 
 After a hearty meal and the influence of a 
 warm fire, the boy, who gave his name as Pat 
 Flynn, grew quite lively, said he was going 
 to get his living somehow ; he had not yet 
 made up his mind in what way ; but it was 
 his determination to try ; and he had started
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 
 
 out that very day for the purpose. In grati- 
 tude for the kindness he had received, he 
 offered then and there to teach the young 
 ladies to whistle, and dance an Irish reel, 
 which they laughingly declined.
 
 CORALIE AND BOSALIE, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE next morning Honor, going down for 
 the children's breakfast, found Pat hard at 
 work in the back kitchen, cleaning knives and 
 whistling fiercely. 
 
 " The sunshine- brighten you, ma'am, this 
 fine mornin'. How are the pretty ladies? 
 Sure, ma'am, they're as like as these two 
 knives, barring the sharpness ; I thought each 
 one was the other one all the time." And Pat, 
 who had left off work to make his bow, be- 
 took himself to his knife-scouring with fresh 
 vigor. 
 
 " Well, Honor, I am weak with laughing at 
 that boy," said the cook, putting her red face 
 in at the door. " As true as I stand here, he 
 has been going on just that way ever since 
 daylight. First he polished the master's boots,
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 21 
 
 then Mr. Ernest's as bright as diamonds he 
 has them too ; then he shovelled away the 
 snow from the stoop and walk, besides clean- 
 ing the yard for me, and dancing around 
 between times. Oh, he's a knowing one !" 
 
 " Holloo there ! who is that whistling down 
 stairs?" 
 
 The cook went hurriedly back to her beef- 
 steak, that she was broiling for breakfast, and 
 Pat as suddenly ceased whistling, and said 
 
 " Tis me, sir." 
 
 " And who is me, I should like to know ?" 
 
 " Pat Flynn, sir." And the boy dropped 
 his knife and cloth, caught a pair of boots in 
 each hand, and ran up stairs. 
 
 " What are you doing here, Pat Flynn ?" 
 
 " The mistress gave me lodgings last night, 
 sir." 
 
 " Oh, you ragged specimen ! she did, eh ? 
 Come in the dining-room, and let us have a 
 look at you. Why, Charlotte, it seems you 
 have turned Lady Bountiful. You did not 
 tell me about this boy."
 
 22 CORALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 Mrs. Somerville raised her languid eyes, as 
 she said, " The children asked me if some boy 
 could be kept all night, and I suppose this 
 must be the one." 
 
 " Have you no home, my man ?" 
 " Sorra a one but this, sir." And the little 
 freckled face was turned shrewdly up to Mr. 
 Somerville, and it said, as plainly as little face 
 could say, " Youll not be able to resist that 
 appeal." " I am all alone, sir. Mickey died 
 a week ago, and not a hand's turn could I find 
 to do since. But if you keep me, sir, you'll 
 niver repent. I can do all sorts of work run 
 errands, wait on the door, scour knives, and 
 scrub." 
 
 " How long have you been in this country ?" 
 " As good as a year, sir. Mickey took sick 
 on shipboard, and niver knew a well day 
 afterwards. We went to the hospital and he's 
 after dying now." The boy smothered some- 
 thing very like a sob in a whistle, as he finished 
 speaking. 
 
 Ernest coming in at this moment, his fathei
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 23 
 
 appealed to him ; and as be good-naturedly 
 gave his opinion in the boy's favor, Mr. Som- 
 erville said he might stay for the present. 
 
 " But mind," he said, as Pat was leaving the 
 room, " if I catch you up to any tricks, off you 
 go." 
 
 " All right, sir." And Pat ran down to the 
 kitchen, danced around the cook for a minute 
 or more, and then returned to his knife-clean- 
 ing in the little back kitchen. 
 
 From that day, he became almost indispen- 
 sable in the house. The boots shone as boots 
 never shone before ; the front stoop and walk 
 had not their match for cleanliness ; and it was 
 acknowledged, by every member of the family, 
 that there never was such a boy to run errands. 
 As he saved the waiter many steps, she was a 
 good friend to him ; as the cook found him 
 handy in the kitchen, she was glad to have 
 him around; and as the coachman was not 
 called upon, as of old, to run errands, he was 
 disposed to favor him. And as he was also 
 as frolicsome as a kitten, and full of Irish wit,
 
 24 COEALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 he kept them in such a good humor that he 
 soon became very popular in the kitchen. Mr. 
 Somerville noticed him, and was pleased that 
 he behaved well; and after a fortnight had 
 passed, concluded to inquire about him at the 
 hospital where the brother had died. He was 
 doubly pleased to find the boy's statement 
 true ; and knowing now that he was so utterly 
 alone in the world, told him that as long as he 
 behaved himself he would keep him. 
 
 So Pat, with a grateful heart, strove to make 
 himself of use to everybody. He was quick 
 enough in his movements at all times, but it 
 was amusing to see him do any thing for the 
 young ladies. His legs moved with such rapid- 
 ity, that Rosalie said " he rolled ;" and when 
 the sisters dined with their aunt and uncle, or 
 come to tea Sunday evenings, Pat was fairly 
 bewitched. He would come in and wait on 
 the " wee ladies." Tidy Sarah could not keep 
 him away ; and there, stationed behind their 
 chairs, with eyes turning from side to side, 
 and distended cheeks, he would thrust a plate
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 25 
 
 of bread or a glass of water at them every 
 second, constantly on the watch to hand them 
 something with a glow of satisfaction on his 
 face that made it well worth seeing. 
 
 Mr. Somerville engaged a daily governess 
 for his nieces a quiet, middle-aged woman, 
 who came four hours every day. With this 
 exception, their time was at their own disposal ; 
 and out of school hours, one hour in the after- 
 noon or evening was devoted to instructing 
 Pat in spelling and reading. 
 
 After their own school hours, they walked 
 out, accompanied by the old nurse. Once in 
 awhile, Mrs. Somerville took them with her 
 in the carriage, for a short drive ; but the 
 children were so afraid of her, that it was no 
 enjoyment to them. They could not trust 
 their own voices, and if Ernest was with them 
 it was even worse. He would tease his cousins 
 the whole time laugh at them, and call them 
 " the little nuns ;" and take a deal of trouble 
 to " draw them out," as he expressed it, which 
 generally ended in. utterly silencing them, and
 
 26 CORALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 sending Rosalie's crimson, tearful face almost 
 into her sister's lap. 
 
 He was not intentionally unkind only 
 thoughtless ; and half to amuse them, and 
 from real ignorance of the way to do it, and 
 perhaps a little to amuse himself, worried 
 them. Mrs. Somerville enjoyed it she always 
 did any of Ernest's tricks ; for that handsome- 
 faced youth was the very idol of his mother's 
 heart and it was a marvel, after years of in- 
 dulgence and flattery, that he was really so 
 good-natured a fellow. 
 
 His little cousins, shy, silent, timid, and 
 quaint-looking in their black dresses and bon- 
 nets, were very comical objects to the young 
 man ; and timid Rosalie after a while grew so 
 afraid of him, that she would run away to 
 their room if she heard his step in the hall, 
 and keep hidden till he had gone out. But 
 happily Ernest's attention was not often taken 
 up with them. He was seldom home, and 
 they managed to keep out of his way, except- 
 ing on Sunday evenings, when, tired of books,
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 27 
 
 and papers, and of his own company, he both- 
 ered the children for the purpose of keeping 
 himself awake. 
 
 The little girls' pleasantest times were the 
 evenings in the nursery. There, seated by the 
 cheerful fire, Pat also an eager listener, Honor 
 would beguile the time with stories of her life 
 in Ireland ; and at these times, too, Coralie 
 would tell of her great plan of doing good 
 when she grew up ; and Pat would listen de- 
 lightedly, proud that his young ladies would 
 take him in their confidence. He made great 
 exertions to learn all his teachers endeavored 
 to impart to him, not only in mere reading 
 and spelling, but in giving up some bad hab- 
 its, one of which was using improper words. 
 
 Many strange talks they would have to- 
 gether. Pat, in his eager desire to learn, 
 would ask such odd questions that the little 
 girls would be puzzled to answer. At these 
 times, Coralie, generally the spokeswoman, 
 would say 
 
 " I think, Pat, somehow, we will know when
 
 28 COKALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 we grow up ; but at any rate, we must say our 
 prayers and read the Bible ; and if we try to do 
 it right, I suppose it will come after awhile." 
 
 " And renounce the devil and all his works," 
 said Pat, as if talking to himself. They were 
 sitting together in the nursery, having one of 
 their talks. Honor had left the room shortly 
 before. " It seems aisy, miss, when we say it 
 off straight that way, but it's surprising how 
 hard it is. It's worth trying for, miss dear, I 
 suppose ?" 
 
 " Indeed it is, Pat ; to go to heaven when we 
 die. Think of that !" 
 
 " It is so nice, miss, to hear you say it. I 
 get it more into my head when you tell it to 
 me." 
 
 " I think it is part not wishing for things, 
 I mean when I wish to have papa back," said 
 Rosalie. " I suppose it makes the wish wrong, 
 because I get so cross and unhappy somehow ; 
 so wishing must be one of the bad things to 
 renounce." 
 
 " Ah ! then. Miss Rosie dear, I cannot see
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAKITY. 29 
 
 how ye get troubled that way ; but it's the 
 rale bad ones like me that might get bothered 
 considerable and would, only for the recol- 
 liction Miss Cora and you bring me to in 
 studying the catechism." 
 
 " About the promises in baptism, you mean, 
 that makes us members of Christ and children 
 of God." 
 
 " That same, Miss Cora dear." 
 
 " Rosie, how papa used to say that over and 
 over when he looked at us, and ask us never 
 to forget it !" 
 
 " Yes, the time when he was very sick, 
 Cora." Rosalie's lip quivered as she spoke. 
 
 " Ah ! miss." said Pat, looking from one to 
 the other, " I could not have known it but for 
 ye'es both." 
 
 " You say you were baptized when a baby, 
 Pat. So it is all the same only you had no 
 one to remind you before." 
 
 " Strange, miss, that it should be through 
 ye'es I'm made to think about it. It seems 
 quare to think, instead of being so alone as I
 
 30 CORALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 felt after Mickey's death, that there is a God 
 in heaven watching over me. I wish the 
 knowing it wouldn't get out of my head so, 
 sometimes." 
 
 " I suppose it is good to keep on trying to 
 like things that are right, even if they do not 
 seem pleasant," said Coralie. " I feel so tired 
 in church, in sermon times, some Sundays. 
 The minister here is not at all like dear papa, 
 and it is so unlike our own church at home. 
 Papa wanted us to go every Sunday, and I 
 ought not to think the sermon long." 
 
 " Was your papa a minister, miss dear ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ; and so good, and kind to every- 
 body," said Rosalie. " How we used to love 
 to go to church at home, Cora !" Rose bright- 
 ened at the thought of her own dear home. 
 " But I used to get tired in sermon time at 
 home, too, but not as often as I do here. 
 When I don't understand, 1 try to think that 
 papa would like us to go, and that helps take 
 away the tired part sometimes." 
 
 " Well, I'll go, whenever the Master gives
 
 THE LITTLE 8ISTEKS OF CHARITY. 31 
 
 me lave," said Pat ; " for, if you say so, I know 
 it is not right to be staying home." 
 
 As time passed, the children grew more and 
 more fond of the kind old nurse, and of Pat, 
 their willing friend and true champion in all 
 difficulties. 
 
 It was curious to see the boy's behavior 
 when with them such a mixture of respect 
 and protection; curious to see his earnest 
 endeavors to do their teaching credit ; the 
 battles he had with the alphabet, before he 
 mastered it ; and when he had mastered it, the 
 unheard-of exertions he made to spell; and 
 how, after all, he became so hopelessly entan- 
 gled in words of two syllables, and grew so 
 mystified, that Coralie was almost in despair 
 of ever getting at the catechism, and accord- 
 ingly formed the plan of making him repeat 
 the answers after her. This succeeded admi- 
 rably, for in one month he was able to repeat 
 the first part of the catechism, and yet was as 
 deeply^perplexed as ever in the spelling-lessons. 
 
 To Honor, in their daily walks, Coralie and
 
 32 COKALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 Rosalie talked of the future, and of Coralie's 
 castles in the air, which castles were hospitals 
 and homes for orphan children. But she had 
 one drawback. It was her intention to save 
 her pocket-money towards this great object, 
 but she found it a difficult task, for every beg- 
 gar she passed, who asked her for a penny, 
 Coralie had not the heart to refuse ; and Rosa- 
 lie, at these times, always forgot about their 
 scheme. The consequence was, their funds 
 never increased ; but this circumstance did not 
 abate their zeal in the scheme. 
 
 The little street-beggars and cross-walk 
 sweepers soon began to know the children, 
 who walked the same road each day, followed 
 by the old woman. 
 
 " Here comes the little nuns, Tag," said, on 
 one of these occasions, a muddy, ragged girl, 
 lifting up a stick with a knobby substance 
 upon the end, supposed to be a broom ; " run 
 ahead and sweep by the gutter." 
 
 Tag, who was just then engaged in rendering 
 her features unprepossessing in plain words,
 
 THE LITTLE 8ISTEKS OF CHARTIY. 33 
 
 making a face at a stout old gentleman who 
 had shaken his cane at her immediately drew 
 her face into a sorrowful expression, walked to 
 the place her companion indicated, and began 
 her work. 
 
 " There is the poor, muddy little girl again, 
 Cora. I have my last penny. How glad I 
 am that I have one left !" 
 
 " Ah ! my pets, don't be after minding them 
 things 'tis no use at all. Haven't they stood 
 there every day this three weeks, just taking 
 the money out of your pockets ? and it's my 
 belief they're no good." 
 
 " But, aunty, they are very poor. They 
 have no hats on, and their feet are bare ; and 
 see how sick she looks. I know she must be 
 sick." And Coralie urged the old woman on, 
 with her persuasive tones. 
 
 " Please, little ladies, if you'll give me an- 
 other, I'll sing for you," said the girl, on receiv- 
 ing the money. 
 
 u Can you sing a hymn ?" said Kosalie. 
 
 " Well, no, I don't know that tune ; but I
 
 COKALIE AND BO8ALIE, 
 
 can do ' Pop goes the weasel.' Please, little 
 ladies, only one penny more. My mother is 
 sick, and my father broke his leg yesterday, 
 and we haven't got any thing in the house 
 to eat," 
 
 " We have no more money," said Rosalie, 
 looking distressed ; " and I do wish you could 
 learn something better " 
 
 " Out of the way there, and stop telling 
 stories !" cried a policeman coming up. " If 
 you have had one cent, you have had two 
 dozen this very afternoon, for I have seen 
 them with my own eyes. Out of the way ! or 
 I will lock you up somewhere." 
 
 "The young street-sweeper ran off pretty 
 nimbly at this threat, and Rosalie and Coralie 
 wended their way homeward with saddened 
 countenances. 
 
 " Ah ! my pets, ye mustn't be minding the 
 likes of them with their stories ; it is no use to 
 notice them." 
 
 " They must be very poor, though, aunty," 
 said Rosalie.
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 35 
 
 " But it is not much they need. 'Tis my 
 belief you'll be doing no good ; 'tis only throw- 
 ing away money." 
 
 " But if they are poor, aunty ? The minister 
 reads in church every Sunday, that if we never 
 turn our faces away from the poor, God will 
 never turn His face away from ns." 
 
 " So he does, Miss Cora dear. You're right, 
 but I suppose the proper judgment will come 
 to you, one day, about such things. I believe 
 it is the Lord that puts the good thoughts in 
 your hearts, my pets, and I'll no say against it." 
 
 " If she would not tell stories. I wonder if 
 any one has told her it is wrong. Oh ! how I 
 wish some one would talk to her, Cora !" said 
 Rosalie. 
 
 Coralie could but echo the wish, and console 
 herself and her sister with thoughts of what 
 they would do if they were women, instead of 
 children. 
 
 So the winter glided away, and spring came; 
 the little girls living a life apart from their 
 relatives, in the quiet house.
 
 36 CORALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 "RosE," said Coralie one afternoon, "will 
 you teach Pat his lessons to-day ? I feel tired, 
 and do not care about it." She leaned back 
 in her chair, letting her book fall in her lap. 
 
 It was so very unusual for Coralie to show 
 any signs of fatigue, that Eosalie made large 
 eyes at this request. Coralie smiled, and said 
 " she believed she was only lazy, and wanted 
 to sit quiet awhile." 
 
 Rosalie willingly agreed, and had just 
 pushed the table to the window, and seated 
 herself thereat, when Pat tapped at the door. 
 He had his books and slate. 
 
 "Rose will be teacher ta-day, Pat, and I 
 will sit here by the fire and listen," said 
 Coralie. 
 
 Rosalie took the book.
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 37 
 
 " Now, Pat," she said, as lie sat down oppo- 
 site her, " we will begin with the spelling- 
 lesson." 
 
 " If we do, then, miss, we'll niver get fur- 
 ther to-day, for it's just as much as I can do 
 to study them at all, they twist my mouth so 
 intirely. The verses and the big printed read- 
 ing I know better." 
 
 Truth to tell, Pat bungled so much worse 
 than usual, and so twisted his tongue to get 
 the words out properly, that it brought a smile 
 to Rosalie's face ; and Coralie ventured the 
 remark that she was afraid he had not studied 
 his lesson as well as he might have done. 
 
 " Indeed, then, miss dear, I pored over it 
 two hours or more last night after supper, and 
 had drames about it, too ; for as true as you 
 sit there, miss, I thought I was shut up in a 
 box, higher than the house, only not so wide, 
 but all narrow like, just big enough for me to 
 stand in without touching the sides as slim 
 as myself that is, miss. Well, I thought it was 
 all lined with spelling-lessons from one end to
 
 38 CORALIE AND KOSALIK, 
 
 the other, and that I had to crawl up and 
 down, and larn every column before breakfast. 
 But wasn't I glad to find it was only a drame, 
 when I woke up. Try the verses and the cate- 
 chism, plase, Miss Rosie. I get on better with 
 them." 
 
 In these Pat acquitted himself so well, that 
 Rosalie asked her sister if she might give him 
 a new task. Coralie did not answer this ques- 
 tion, though twice repeated, which caused Pat 
 to look up quickly, fearing he was in disgrace. 
 She was sitting quite still, gazing into the fire, 
 her head leaning on her hands. 
 
 " Cora, is any thing the matter ?" 
 
 Rosalie walked over to her, and Coralie, now 
 thoroughly aroused by her sister's alarmed 
 tone of voice, turned around. Rosalie saw 
 that her eyes were filled with tears. 
 
 " Are you sick, Cora dear ? What is the 
 matter? Let me call aunty. Tell me what 
 it is." 
 
 " No, no ! don't call any one, Rosie. I only 
 felt a little badly perhaps because I do not
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 39 
 
 feel very strong to-night ; and I got thinking, 
 and that made me act silly." 
 
 Coralie attempted a smile, but the tears 
 were now falling rapidly down her cheeks, and 
 the smile got lost in them. This was such un- 
 usual behavior for Coralie, that Rose, who was 
 getting more and more alarmed, and half 
 ready to cry, too, came and put her arm over 
 the back of her sister's chair, looking sad 
 enough. 
 
 " I have felt strangely for some time," con- 
 tinued Coralie. " I have felt it so hard to do 
 any thing such an exertion to move ; not ex- 
 actly weak, but so tired when I walk ; and I 
 have been thinking I would not walk out this 
 afternoon, for I dread the walking up-stains 
 afterwards. I know I am not sick. It is only 
 so hard for me to move. My feet seem to 
 have weights to them, it sometimes takes me 
 so long to stir them." 
 
 " Maybe, miss dear, 'tis a fever you're get- 
 ting," said Pat, looking dolefully at them. 
 " It is apt to make one wake and qnare like."
 
 40 COKALIE AND EOSALIE, 
 
 " But I do not feel hot, and my head does 
 not ache. That is the way to have a fever. 
 No, Pat, 'tis not a fever; it is something in my 
 legs and feet : and as I sat here I could not 
 help thinking thinking that perhaps it might 
 go on so, and that I should not be able, after 
 awhile, to walk at all. Do not persons get so 
 sometimes ?" 
 
 " O Cora dear, it is not so ; that is so dread- 
 ful ! Little girls never get so ; it is only old 
 people isn't it, Pat?" 
 
 Pat looked doubtful, shook his head, and 
 said he never knew much about such things, 
 but that he guessed Miss Coralie must be very 
 tired. Anyways they would tell Honor when 
 she came in, and get her opinion. 
 
 "When Honor came up, she listened to the 
 children's statement of the case ; then, after 
 asking Coralie the same questions Rosalie had 
 already asked, and then ever so many more 
 that brought not much more light on the sub- 
 ject, she said cheerfully that she thought it 
 would all be right in time, aiid Coralie must
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAKITY. 41 
 
 keep up a good heart. Nevertheless Honor 
 had strong misgivings in her own mind, and 
 leaving the children shortly after, went down 
 to the parlor to acquaint Mr. Somerville with 
 the facts, and to ask for advice about seeing a 
 physician. She did not speak of her own sus- 
 picions, merely telling the symptoms Coralie 
 had told her. 
 
 It roused even Mrs. Somerville to something 
 like interest ; and Mr. Somerville, with his 
 usual impetuosity, rushed from the room to 
 the nursery, captured both children, and 
 brought them to the parlor Pat following 
 close at his heels. Confronting his nieces with 
 the nurse, he requested her to tell it all over 
 again, much to Honor's confusion, who knew 
 the children were surprised at the haste with 
 which she had carried the news to their 
 uncle. 
 
 Before listening to it. however, he dispatched 
 Pat for the doctor; and after giving Honor 
 another hearing, employed himself walking 
 the length of the room, wondering what kept
 
 42 COBALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 the boy so, and whether there ever was a 
 doctor handy when he was wanted. 
 
 " Now really, Charles, you are unreasona- 
 ble," said Mrs. Somerville, as her husband 
 came down the room the sixth or seventh 
 time. " You have not allowed the boy time 
 to get there, and you are frightening the poor 
 children." 
 
 "No, my dear, I hope not. I only want 
 to have a word or two with the doctor. 'It 
 may be nothing, after all, but some of your old 
 woman notions, Honor. Don't get frightened, 
 my dears. I think Doctor Conover can tell 
 us what is to be done. You do not feel sick, 
 little wren ?" 
 
 " No, sir oh, no ! only tired." 
 
 "Try if you can stand up by me." Mr. 
 Somerville stopped in his walk, and lifted her 
 from the chair. " You can stand as well as 
 anybody, child. You're only nervous. Walk 
 over to your aunt." 
 
 Coralie's face grew crimson, and she rested 
 her hand heavily on the back of the chair.
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OP CHARITY. 43 
 
 "Why, what is the matter? Don't be 
 frightened. Rosie, take hold of your sister's 
 hand." 
 
 " No, Rose. I can do it now, uncle." And 
 Coralie walked slowly across the room, to her 
 aunt, seemingly with ease ; but Mr. Somerville 
 quickly detected in her face the exertion it 
 had been to her, and he glanced uneasily at 
 his wife. 
 
 " How did it make you feel, little one ?" 
 
 " Tired at first, and as if I should fall ; but 
 it went over after I got fairly walking. It 
 always does." 
 
 " Umph ! Sit down there, my dear. You 
 want rest, and a little medicine to set you all 
 right again. Now, here is Rosie I would 
 have expected her to get sick. With that pale 
 face of hers, it would not have been surpris- 
 ing. Are you sure you are quite steady on 
 your legs, wren ?" 
 
 Mr. Somerville, as if to test their strength, 
 jocosely lifted Rosalie up and down from the 
 floor, and then made her walk through the
 
 44 CORAT.TF. AND KOSALIE, 
 
 room. It was not until she had walked twice 
 from one parlor to the other, at a running pace, 
 that he seemed satisfied. He then, in a re- 
 lieved tone of voice, pronounced her "all right." 
 
 " Now, my dear," said he, addressing Cora- 
 lie, " it is quite clear to my mind that you 
 need a good course of living plenty of beef 
 and milk, that will fatten you a little. You 
 are too thin. That is all that is required. 
 Mrs. Some^rville, you may depend upon it that 
 is all." 
 
 " And what about the medicine you were 
 speaking of, Charles?" 
 
 " Pshaw ! nonsense, my love. Did I say 
 medicine? Well, it would do, only we will 
 try the other plan first. I wish the doctor 
 would come, though he does not know any 
 better than I what to do if he knows half as 
 well. You see, my love, I am right. I know 
 more about physic than a whole college of sur- 
 geons. I declare ! if a half hour has not passed 
 since I sent the boy ! It is enough to wear a 
 person out to be kept waiting so."
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAEITY. 45 
 
 Mr. Somerville was getting quite excited, 
 and Mrs. Somerville accordingly advised his 
 looking out at the door, as she thought in all 
 probability the doctor was coming. On open- 
 ing the front door for that purpose, Mr. Somer- 
 ville's heated temper rapidly cooled, for he saw 
 Pat running along on the opposite side-walk, 
 and Doctor Conover following him at a rapid 
 rate. Mr, Somerville in his eagerness ran out, 
 and the two old gentlemen, smiling and bowing, 
 met in the middle of the street, much to the 
 amusement of the passers by. 
 
 "Dear me! Mr. Somerville, is any thing 
 serious the matter ? This boy hurried me so, 
 that I feared some one was alarmingly ill. I 
 never saw such a spry object as he is in all my 
 life. But, my dear friend, you will most cer- 
 tainly take cold, if you stand with uncovered 
 head in the street. 
 
 "Sure enough! I have forgotten my hat. 
 The fact is, doctor, I was so glad to see you, 
 that I forgot all about my head. I want your 
 advice. But come into the house, where we
 
 46 CORALIE AND KOSA1JE, 
 
 can talk. Here is a three-cent piece for you, 
 Pat." 
 
 " No, sir, but I thank you all the same. I 
 would go twice as far, sir, to oblige my young 
 ladies, and think it no work at all, sir, but a 
 
 "Good boy! good boy! If you keep on 
 with such principles, you will make a fine 
 man," and the doctor patted him on the head, 
 and smiled kindly at him. 
 
 Doctor Conover listened attentively to Mr. 
 Somerville's account of his niece ; then asked 
 the little girl a number of questions, made her 
 walk, asked Honor about their mode of living, 
 then looked at them both attentively ; said he 
 would see what could be done, pinched their 
 cheeks, patted their heads, and told Mr. 
 Somerville that would do ; and led him out 
 into the dining-room, where both gentlemen 
 stayed so long, that Honor, getting tired of 
 waiting, went away up to the nursery, and Pat 
 returned to his duties in the kitchen. 
 
 Kosalie and Coralie looked out of the win-
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAKITY. 47 
 
 dow as long as it was light enough to see, and 
 then in fear of disturbing their aunt, who ap- 
 peared to be asleep, sat still in the darkness 
 until Sarah came in to close the blinds and 
 light the gas. Mrs. Somerville roused herself, 
 then, sufficiently to tell them they might amuse 
 themselves looking at the pictures in some of 
 the books on the centre-table, and sank back 
 on her sofa. 
 
 The children became so interested in the 
 book that they forgot about the doctor's visit, 
 and did not hear the door close when he left, 
 nor any sound but the tea-bell, arid immediate- 
 ly afterwards their uncle's voice, telling them 
 they were to drink tea with him to-night, as 
 Ernest was away, and he felt lonesome. 
 
 It was not surprising that Mr. Somerville 
 should carry Coralie into the dining-room, for, 
 as we have seen already, it was one of his 
 ways of amusing his nieces. But it was sur- 
 prising that he carried; only Coralie, letting 
 Eosalie walk by them, and get into her chair 
 without his assistance, and yet placing Coralie
 
 48 COBALEE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 in hers with the greatest care; then sending 
 her a taste of every thing on the table, within 
 his reach insisting that she must eat heartily ; 
 and even after tea, saying that he would make 
 a baby of her, and so carried her all the way 
 to the nursery. It looked bright and warm in 
 the room, and Mr. Sornerville stopped by the 
 fire a moment to say something hopeful to 
 Coralie about the future, and giving Honor 
 directions to be careful of her. 
 
 " Please, Uncle Charles," said Coralie, as he 
 walked to the door, " stay awhile, I want to 
 speak to you." 
 
 " Certainly, certainly, my dear." Mr. 
 Somerville came back at once, and sat down, 
 telling Honor, as he did so, that she could go 
 to her tea. 
 
 " I wanted to ask you, Uncle Charles, about 
 that that the doctor said." 
 
 "Ah! yes. He said it was weakness, de- 
 bility some such sort of thing ; said we must 
 take good care of you, and take you into the 
 country, and let you have fresh air, drink
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAEITT. 49 
 
 milk, live out of doors, and have a good time 
 generally, and be as lazy as you please. That 
 will be good fun, won't it, Rosie, my dear? 
 You'll be down on the beach picking shells, or 
 rambling through the woods, and getting as 
 rosy and brown as country lasses." 
 
 Rosalie looked delighted at this pleasant 
 picture, and Coralie murmured assent in an 
 absent manner, and resting her hand on her 
 uncle's chair, said 
 
 " Uncle Charles, please to tell what else the 
 doctor said about me. Did he say I would get 
 worse ?" 
 
 "Well! ah!" Mr. Somerville gazed all 
 around the room before he could summon 
 courage to look in his niece's face. 
 
 "Please tell me, uncle. I would rather 
 know." 
 
 Mr. Somerville took a long breath. " He 
 said a good deal, my dear, used a great many 
 big words you wouldn't understand if I did 
 tell you. And though he may be a smart man, 
 he may not know every thing. He thinks it
 
 50 COKALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 has been coming on for months, and that we 
 must take you away to the sea-side for change 
 of air." 
 
 " But did he think I would get better ?" 
 
 " How perverse it is ! "What an obstinate 
 little wren she is, to-night, Rosie ! We will 
 get her into the country. Doctor Conover 
 thinks that will be good for her." 
 
 Mr. Somerville adhered so to this one idea 
 of going to the country, and brought the con- 
 versation back to it so every time, that Coralie 
 noticed it. 
 
 " Uncle Charles, did not the doctor say I 
 would not be able to walk." 
 
 " My poor child ! he thought there was 
 danger of it." Mr. Somerville took her hand 
 in his. " Let us hope for the best. Country 
 air and the sea-shore may do wonders for my 
 little wren ; and with Pat to draw you about, 
 and Rosy to play with, we'll soon see a change 
 for the better. Look at the bright side, my 
 dear and really, really, it might be worse." 
 Mr. Somerville casting about in his own mind
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAEITY. 51 
 
 for something consoling, could think of nothing 
 else; and it happened very well, for Coralie 
 said yes very heartily, and kept repeating it 
 over to herself, and tried hard to think so, as 
 she said it, notwithstanding Rosalie's audible 
 
 Mr. Somerville told his wife, when he went 
 down stairs, that Coralie was a wonderful 
 child as brave and womanly as a woman of 
 twenty-five, instead of a girl of eleven, and 
 that he would have preferred facing a north- 
 east storm, to saying what he had been obliged 
 to say to her. 
 
 Coralie sat looking into the fire a long, long 
 time after Eosalie had flung herself down by 
 her sister, and had ceased crying when Honor 
 came in. The old nurse moved around put- 
 ting things in place, not wishing to disturb the 
 little people. After she had arranged all to 
 her satisfaction, she wheeled her chair to the 
 fire, and sat down. " It is nigh on to bedtime, 
 my pet," said she. 
 
 "In a little while, aunty dear. Rosie is
 
 52 CORALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 nearly asleep now." Rosalie raised her head 
 to show her sister that she was awake. 
 
 " rhave been thinking," continued Coralie, 
 "of what the doctor told Uncle Charles. 
 Aunty, he thinks I will not be able to walk at 
 all after awhile." 
 
 Honor's reply was so indistinct that it 
 sounded like a moan. 
 
 "But it might have been worse. Uncle 
 Charles said so." 
 
 " Ah ! yes, my pet," sighed Honor. 
 
 " It seems very bad, indeed, aunty. I can- 
 not see how it could be worse," said Rosalie. 
 
 " Rose-bud dear, it might be worse. Sup- 
 posing now it was blindness." 
 
 " O aunty !" Rosalie shuddered at the 
 mere thought. 
 
 " Or it had been my arms, Rosie, instead of 
 my feet. I never could do a thing, but sit 
 here and be helpless never could put my 
 arms round you, this way," and Coralie 
 clasped her tight. " I suppose it is pleasanter 
 after one gets used to it. I do not think I feel
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARTIY. 53 
 
 it so much for I am thinking all the time 
 that it cannot be I, but some other little girl ; 
 and as I looked at the fire, after Uncle Charles 
 went away, I found myself pitying the little 
 girl a great deal." 
 
 " Cora, if it had only been I ! I do not 
 know how to do without you I am so afraid. 
 It would not seem so bad if it were I." 
 
 " As if it would not be just as much to me, 
 Rose-bud," said Coralie, with a touch of her 
 usual bright way in her voice, that gladdened 
 Rosalie very much. 
 
 " My dears, it's the Lord's will, and we must 
 no say against it." 
 
 " Aunty dear, help me to think that. Tell 
 me, every time I get cross about it. Papa 
 would tell me so. It would not come if it was 
 not right, I suppose." 
 
 " "We have had so many sorrows, Cora ! 
 First mamma, then papa taken away from us ; 
 and now " 
 
 Coralie's voice trembled, but she said, 
 stoutly
 
 64 COKALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 " Papa told us to love Uncle Charles ; and 
 we have aunty, Rose." 
 
 "O aunty dear! I did not forget you," 
 cried tender-hearted Rosalie, fearing Honor's 
 feelings would be wounded. " I am a very 
 bad girl to talk so." 
 
 Honor, for answer, took her in her arms, 
 kissed her once or twice, rubbed her own eyes 
 with the corner of her apron, declared they 
 were both her darlings, and the comfort of her 
 life her little jewels and hoped God would 
 bless and keep them that night and ever ; and 
 then reminded them that it was indeed bed- 
 tune that if they wanted to get strong and 
 well, they must go to bed early.
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 55 
 
 CHAPTER IY. 
 
 THERE is a charming little cottage, covered 
 with vines and evergreens, so shut in from the 
 road by thick-shrubberied fences, that, passing 
 by, one must needs look quite closely to see it 
 at all. This cottage belongs to Mr. Morton, 
 the clergyman ; and oh the hill, just one side 
 of the cottage, a little further back from the road, 
 is the church where Mr. Morton officiates, and 
 preaches every Sunday to the people of Wynn. 
 
 Wyim is a scattered-looking village, half a 
 mile north of the parsonage. It is not a place 
 of much note, and only boasts of its fine 
 beach and sea-breezes. Its inhabitants are 
 chiefly fishermen and pilots. But it is not the 
 village we have to do with, this afternoon, but 
 the minister's cottage. 
 
 Although, in its beautiful shade of fresh
 
 56 COKALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 green, it yesterday seemed a pleasant spot, this 
 bright June afternoon it seems doubly so, in 
 its newer beauty of blossoming roses these 
 roses that only peeped forth this morning, 
 too; and, I suppose, finding that summer had 
 really come, they threw off their pretty spring 
 wrappers of green, and as the sun smiles such 
 a welcome to them, have taken, to smiling 
 themselves in beauty, in every direction. In 
 truth, in some places they have at this late 
 hour in the day, too ceased smiling, and are 
 fairly laughing outright, turning pale cheeks 
 and blushing cheeks to the sun, in a very 
 saucy manner indeed. 
 
 Roses run up the sides of the house and 
 over the top of the house. Roses mingle with 
 the vines that shade the queer lozenge-shaped 
 window in the roof. In all places where roses 
 can put their heads, there they are, and, unit- 
 ing their perfumes with the odors from honey- 
 suckle and sweet-brier, scent the air away down 
 to the shore. 
 
 There is a lawn from the cottage to the
 
 THE LITTLE SISTEKS OF CHARITY. 57 
 
 road, with a thick hedge along the fence so 
 thick that Arthur Morton, a young gentleman 
 of four years, has not been able to squeeze 
 himself through it in a long time, though he 
 has tried to do so daily, to the great detriment 
 of his clean frocks and aprc*s. 
 
 You have only to cross the road and walk 
 down a hill, and there the beach runs along 
 for miles ; and you can see vessels sail by, and 
 watch them as far as the eye can reach. 
 Watching the boats is one of Mr. Arthur 
 Morton's amusements. Here, seated on a 
 bench, listening to the waves washing up on 
 the pebbles, he looks out for vessels, and, with 
 his quick bright eye, can distinguish a schoon- 
 er, a brig, or a clipper, as easily as his papa 
 can. It is not with the beach, any more than 
 the village, that we have any thing to do this 
 afternoon, but the cottage rather, I should 
 say, the inmates of the cottage. 
 
 Mrs. Morton is standing on the piazza, wait- 
 ing to welcome her husband, who, having just 
 returned from some parish calls, is giving the
 
 58 COEALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 reins to his man Thomas, together with a 
 parting pat to the old brown mare. 
 
 " Papa has come !" cried little Arthur Mor- 
 ton, scampering from his mother's side down 
 to the gate, where he gained his usual seat on 
 such occasions his father's shoulder. 
 
 " Mamma, look at me I am taller than 
 papa !" This was Arthur's great joke, and he 
 always laughed at it himself, and expected his 
 mother to do the same ; and if she forgot it, 
 why, Arthur soon reminded her, and would 
 not be satisfied till she had " smiled out loud," 
 as he expressed it. 
 
 " Now, young rogue," said Mr. Morton, 
 coming up to the piazza, " tell me whether 
 you have been a good boy this afternoon." 
 
 " Yes, sir, only I was cross once oh, ever 
 such a little bit. Mamma said it was a pin's 
 head cross. I threw dirt on the steps, and 
 mamma told me not to." 
 
 " So you were a very little cross, my boy. 
 Well, you have got over the pin's head cross 
 now, and are entitled to a kiss. But seeing he
 
 THE LITTLE SISTEKS OF CHAKITY. 59 
 
 is such a troublesome fellow, Mary, what shall 
 we do with him ?" 
 
 "I know," said Arthur; "leave me home 
 to take care of mamma, and if the wild bears 
 come I will shoot them." 
 
 " There are no wild bears, Arthur ; nothing 
 to catch and tame but a little wild boy." 
 
 "I said 'if they came,' papa. They have 
 bears in some countries, I know. I have 
 heard so, and I would not like them to eat my 
 mamma." 
 
 " Papa, put the little bear-killer down, and 
 he can go to the kitchen and tell Margery we 
 are ready for tea." 
 
 "Yes, I will go, mamma," said Arthur, 
 proud to be sent of an errand, even if it was 
 only as far as the kitchen ; and off he went to 
 Margery, to deliver the message. Mr. Morton 
 sat down by his wife on a rustic sofa that stood 
 on the piazza. 
 
 " What a quiet afternoon, Mary," said he, 
 " and how lovely it looks here ! You must 
 take a walk outside the gate after tea, just to
 
 60 CORALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 look at the cottage. The roses are in blossom 
 all over the top our roses that we planted 
 the first year we came to "Wynn. Do you 
 know, my love, we can almost feel proud of 
 our cottage, to-day, in its flower show ? If we 
 cannot be proud of the outside, we can be very 
 happy inside of it, it is such a quiet nook. I 
 feel as if I could sit here with you, and enjoy 
 it the rest of the day." 
 
 " Without even caring to tell me where you 
 have been, and what detained you beyond 
 your usual time of returning." 
 
 " No, my love. It is part of my rest to talk 
 to you. As I rode along I said to myself, now 
 I will tell Mary so and so when I get home : it 
 will interest her ; or Mary would like to hear 
 about that. And now for your own affairs first. 
 I went to see the people. It is a rough ride, 
 over as hilly a road as there is in this part of 
 the country. I found five children of an age 
 to attend the school two girls and three boys ; 
 and I induced the mother to let them come 
 every Sunday morning. One woman seemed
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 61 
 
 inclined to come to church, but said she did 
 not know how she could leave her family. I 
 urged them to come down, but I hardly expect 
 them. I shall go over again next week, and 
 perhaps we will see them in the church yet." 
 
 " Can the children walk the two miles, 
 Edward ?" 
 
 " They told me there was another walk to 
 the church, over the fields, that shortened it 
 nearly a mile. The girls seemed to know it 
 about here. They are healthy-looking chil- 
 dren and three of them said they could read. 
 After I left there, I made two or three more 
 visits; and, lastly, called at the white house 
 on the hill Mr. Somerville's, you know." 
 
 " Did you ? I am glad of that." 
 
 " So am I, now, though I rather disliked the 
 idea, as I have not seen any of them at church, 
 excepting an old woman and a child. Mr. 
 Somerville was very pleasant, very hospitable, 
 and begged me to bring you to call on his 
 wife. He made Mrs. Somerville's excuses to 
 
 me said she was lying down, and was suffer- 
 G
 
 62 COKALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 ing from headache. He took me over his 
 place. He has been making improvements 
 ever since he purchased it, and it is in fine 
 order. After walking through the grounds, 
 we extended our stroll to the shore ; and as 
 we went along, Mr. Somerville explained to 
 me the reason he had chosen what he called 
 ' such an out-of- the- world sort of place' to live 
 in. It was for the benefit of a child his 
 niece." 
 
 " The little girl that was at church, Sunday. 
 I thought she looked very delicate." 
 
 " No, not for that one, but her sister. Now 
 listen, for I am coming to the most interesting 
 part. We were walking along, I said, and 
 Mr. Somerville was telling me about his niece, 
 and about his physician's recommending a 
 quiet country place for her, when we came up 
 with three children, seated in the shade of a 
 large rock. The centre of attraction seemed 
 to be a little girl, in a sort of carriage-chair 
 a bright-eyed, pale child, looking not more 
 than nine years old, but really two years older,
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 63 
 
 as I found out afterwards. Her lap was filled 
 with shells, and she was talking about them 
 very earnestly to another little girl, the exact 
 counterpart of herself her twin-sister. In 
 fact, the resemblance between them is so great, 
 that, but for their difference in position, it 
 would have been impossible for me to distin- 
 guish one from the other. I saw afterwards 
 that the sick one looked less sad than the 
 other the one that was at church. They 
 both look delicate, though, and I think it a 
 very fortunate circumstance that the doctor 
 prescribed country air for them. They are 
 southern plants, and I fear our northern win- 
 ter has chilled the poor things they look so 
 very fragile. A round-faced, freckled boy was 
 picking up shells and handing them to the 
 little girl in the carriage. He also performed 
 the part of pony to the little procession. I do 
 not know when I have been so attracted as I 
 was by the two, I may say, three faces ; for 
 certainly the boy was as fine a specimen of a 
 quick-witted Irish lad as I have ever seen. I
 
 64. OORALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 think the little girls were rather afraid of me 
 at first : they seem unused to strangers ; but 
 we got on better after their uncle told them 
 who I was. Your little friend that was at 
 church Rosalie, they call her smiled as 
 though she had seen me before, when her 
 uncle said I was the minister. So I told her 
 I was glad to see her in church last Sunday, 
 and was sorry her sister was too sick to come. 
 
 " ' Uncle Charles says Coralie cannot go 
 until she gets stronger,' she replied ; ' but she 
 wants to go very much.' 
 
 " Mr. Somerville said she should go as soon 
 as she got better, and then told me his niece 
 had been unable to walk at all for two months. 
 They have been travelling about till the house 
 here could be fitted up for the family. After 
 we left the children, Mr. Somerville said to me 
 that he had very little hope of Coralie's recov- 
 ery. He said she behaved very well, and in 
 fact did not fret half as much as he wished her 
 to. He appeared much gratified with my offer 
 of Arthur for a playmate for them. Though
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHABITY. 65 
 
 much younger, I said he had such a flow of 
 spirits, and was so brimful of fun, I thought it 
 would do them good ; and you know, my dear, 
 Arthur will like to see them, because they are 
 little people. So we parted : I with the prom- 
 ise that if you conveniently could you would call 
 to-morrow, and take Arthur with you ; and " 
 
 " Come to tea, papa ! Tea is ready ! Come, 
 mamma ; it will catch cold if you don't come 
 right straight away," cried Arthur, running 
 out with an extremely red face. 
 
 " What have you been doing to make your 
 face so red, Arthur ?" 
 
 " Helping Margery make tea, mamma. 
 Margery let me toast two pieces one for 
 you and one for papa. Please to come right 
 off, now, or it will catch cold." Arthur look- 
 ed highly delighted to see his father and moth- 
 er eat the toast he had made for them, and 
 only regretted that he had not toasted a slice 
 for pussy, who he thought looked neglected, 
 and would not come in from the kitchen fire 
 
 when he called him. 
 
 63
 
 66 OOKALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 His mother said she thought pussy felt more 
 lazy than neglected, and liked the warmth of 
 the fire better than toast. So, satisfied on this 
 point, Arthur was very glad to eat his bread 
 and milk. After he had finished it, he sat 
 quite still, because his father and mother were 
 talking, and he knew if he was noisy or rest- 
 less he would be sent away. But he could not 
 help wishing his papa would talk about some- 
 thing that he could understand, and at last 
 heard something to interest him something 
 about two little girls, and his mamma going 
 to see them, and taking him with her, if he 
 was a good boy. 
 
 When they had finished tea, he went into 
 the kitchen, and told Margery, his friend and 
 great crony, that he was going away off soon, 
 with his mamma, to see two good little girls, 
 if he was a good little boy. 
 
 " I do not see how you know they are good 
 little girls," said Margery. 
 
 " Why, Margery, my mamma says so. No, 
 she didn't say so, but I know mamma would
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAKITY. 67 
 
 not go to see any little girls that were not 
 good." 
 
 " Ah, my man, so much you know about 
 it," laughed Margery. ""Wouldn't she go to 
 see 'em if they were bad, and try to make them 
 good?" 
 
 " Yes ; but they would be good little girls 
 then, after all, if mamma said nice things to 
 them." 
 
 " Oh ! you're a knowing little fellow, Ar- 
 thur, and it is well you have got a good pa 
 and ma to teach you, and love you, and a cross 
 old Margery that won't let you ever come near 
 her kitchen, and litter it with your toys." 
 Margery stopped wiping a cup, and rubbed 
 her hands over his curly head as she said this, 
 and added that she thought somebody's ma 
 was calling him, and she rather guessed it was 
 a certain gentleman's bedtime, for the sun had 
 gone to bed, and the " sand-man" was around. 
 Arthur stoutly denied the sand-man's presence 
 near him, and said he did not know whom he 
 would come to see there, unless it was Mar-
 
 68 COKALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 gery's own self. He would have advanced a 
 reason for saying so, had not he heard his 
 mamma calling him now quite distinctly, and 
 he had to go. 
 
 While Arthur was getting ready for bed, he 
 asked his mamma about the little girls she was 
 going to take him to see ; and when he heard 
 that they were orphans, that they had neither 
 father nor mother, he looked thoughtful, and 
 asked if he could not say something in his 
 prayers for the little girls that had no dear 
 mamma nor papa. 
 
 His mother said he might, and when he knelt 
 before her with clasped hands, she let him re- 
 peat after her a prayer for the orphan sisters. 
 Mrs. Morton then took him in her arms, kissed 
 him, and said : " God bless my little boy, and 
 keep him safe to-night, for Jesus Christ's sake." 
 She said this aloud every night, always before 
 putting him in his crib. 
 
 It made Arthur very still to see his mamma's 
 face so solemn as she uttered these words, and 
 very much in earnest in his wish to be a good
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 69 
 
 boy. After his mamma went away, his papa 
 used to go up and kiss him good-night. Arthur 
 always wanted this kiss. No matter if he had 
 said good-night ever so many times before 
 coming up, he would want his papa to give 
 him the last kiss in bed. 
 
 " "Well, if he's not the 'cutest boy of his age 
 I ever saw !" said Margery, coming up with a 
 waiter of freshly-ironed clothes, as Mrs. Mor- 
 ton came out of Arthur's room. " I will just 
 set the waiter down, and go in and kiss his 
 old curly head. I declare to you, ma'am, he's 
 as much company as a whole party." 
 
 " Margery, I thought that was you coming," 
 said Arthur, lifting his head from the pillow. 
 " Mamma told me something to say for the 
 little girls when I said my prayers, because 
 they had no father or mother. Mamma said 
 they were something I forget what that word 
 was." 
 
 " Orphans, perhaps," said Margery. 
 
 " Yes, that was it. Why, Margery, that is 
 what you once said you were."
 
 70 CORALIE AND EOSALIE, 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I did not think. I wish I had said the 
 prayer for you, too ; but I will do it now. I 
 will ask God to take care of you. What 
 makes you squeeze my head so, Margery, and 
 kiss my hair, instead of my face ?" 
 
 " Well, well, because you're such a dear." 
 Margery gave him another squeeze, and van- 
 ished.
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAEITT. 71 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 " WELL, my love, I suppose you will call at 
 Mr. Somerville's to-day," Mr. Morton re- 
 marked at breakfast the next morning. "I 
 think that Arthur is quite ready to see the 
 little girls." 
 
 There was no doubt in Arthur's mind upon 
 the subject, for he not only declared that he 
 was ready, but was marching off for Margery 
 to get him his cap, when his mamma called 
 him back, and told him she could not make 
 the visit until afternoon, and that he must not 
 forget his lessons. He looked blank, but see- 
 ing that his mamma after breakfast went 
 around as usual, dusting and arranging the 
 room, and then sat down to her work, he 
 brought his book, and sat down by her.
 
 72 COKALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 When school was out, he went into the 
 kitchen to feed pussy and have a chat with 
 Margery. Then he played with his toy-box 
 till he got tired ; and at last concluded to go 
 around by the study window, and see what 
 his papa was doing. The study window 
 opened on the piazza, and Arthur walked 
 around the piazza and looked in. His father 
 was writing. Arthur knew he must not ex- 
 pect his father to talk to him now, so he 
 seated himself on the sill as softly as he 
 could. 
 
 He sat here a little while, and he became 
 drowsy. Every time he nodded, he would 
 start, and sit up very straight, determined not 
 to fall asleep; but he grew more and more 
 sleepy, and finally forgot to hold his eyes open, 
 and in a second was sound asleep. The din- 
 ner-bell ringing made him open his eyes, and 
 he found, instead of being in the window, 
 where he had fallen asleep, he was lying on 
 the sofa in the room, and his mother and 
 father were talking in subdued tones.
 
 THE LITTLE SISTEBS OF CHAKITY. 73 
 
 " You may talk out loud, mamma, for it will 
 not wake me up now," said he. " Did you 
 put me on the sofa, papa ?" 
 
 "Yes, I found a small boy asleep in my 
 window, and as I thought the sofa would make 
 a better bed for him, I brought him in and 
 laid him there. His mamma just came in to 
 see what had kept the noisy boy quiet so long. 
 Now let us go in to dinner, for Margery 
 seems inclined to ring until we make our 
 appearance." 
 
 The time to go out came at last, though 
 Arthur thought lie never knew an afternoon 
 so long in coming. Mr. Morton was to take 
 them in the gig, and leave them at Mr. Som- 
 erville's, and Mr. Morton intended walking 
 home. A small bench was placed in the 
 vehicle for Arthur to sit upon, and his mother 
 holding him tight by his belt for fear of his 
 falling out, they rode away. Arthur amused 
 himself by looking at the water, and wishing 
 his papa would let him drive the old mare, 
 and hoping the time would soon come when
 
 74: CORALIE AND BOSALIE, 
 
 he would be large enough to do so. Mr. 
 Morton left them at the gate, with strict in- 
 junctions to Arthur to be a good boj, and 
 take care of his mother. Arthur strutted up 
 to the house, feeling very important at having 
 such a trust imposed upon him. 
 
 Pat opened the door and ushered them into 
 the parlor, where Mrs. Somerville was seated, 
 reading. Arthur walked over to the window, 
 and fixed himself on a chair, with his eyes on 
 the door, expecting to see the little girls enter ; 
 but his mamma and Mrs. Somerville talked 
 some minutes, yet no little girls came in. A 
 young man sauntered by the window. Mrs. 
 Somerville called to him, and introduced him 
 to Mrs. Morton as her son : he bowed, and 
 sauntered away again. Arthur raised himself 
 on his chair, and looked out to see where the 
 young man went. He walked down the steps 
 and turned away at the side of the house, 
 where Arthur could not look ; so he concluded 
 to watch a bird that was hopping about on a 
 bush. When the bird flew away he had
 
 THE LITTLE SISTEES OF CHARITY. 75 
 
 nothing new to look at, so he sat down, and 
 turned his eyes to the door again. 
 
 At last his mamma said, " I hope we can see 
 your nieces this afternoon, Mrs. Somerville ; 
 nay little boy has been looking forward with 
 great pleasure to this visit." 
 
 " Certainly ; I cannot think what it is that 
 detains them. Ah ! there is Rosalie," she add- 
 ed, as the child entered the room. "Come 
 and speak to Mrs. Morton, Rose, and to the 
 young gentleman. AVhere is Coralie ?" 
 
 " Cora told me not to come, Aunt Charlotte ; 
 she is waiting for aunty to come up," said 
 Rosalie, as she walked up to Mrs. Morton to 
 shake hands. But Mrs. Morton drew her to 
 her and kissed her, and called her " my dear," 
 in a voice that made Rosalie forget to feel 
 bashful; and she stooped down and kissed 
 Arthur, quite of her own free-will a sur- 
 prising thing for her to do ; then turned to 
 her aunt : 
 
 " Aunty was down stairs, and Cora thought 
 she had better wait for her."
 
 76 COBALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 " But did not Pat tell her ?" 
 
 " No, ma'am ; aunty had said she would be 
 up very soon, and Cora did not like to hurry 
 her. Pat is waiting to pull the carriage." 
 
 Mrs. Somerville explained to Mrs. Morton, 
 that the nurse always carried Coralie up and 
 down stairs. 
 
 " I met aunty in the hall, Aunt Charlotte, 
 and she said she would bring Cora right down, 
 and she is coming now." Rosalie walked 
 over and opened the door just in time for Pat 
 to draw her sister into the room. 
 
 It made Mrs. Morton feel very sad to look at 
 the child's pale face ; but the dark eyes bright- 
 ened beautifully when she smiled in answer 
 to Mrs. Morton's kind greeting, and the smile 
 gave her face, as Mr. Morton had said, a very 
 animated and cheerful look. Coralie was de- 
 lighted to see the little boy, kissed him, and 
 asked him a number of questions. Arthur 
 grew very communicative, told about his toys 
 and amusements, and about the big shells he 
 could find for them down by his father's house.
 
 THE LITTLE SISTEKS OF CHARITY. 77 
 
 And they had a very sociable time in one cor- 
 ner of the room during Mrs. Morton's stay. 
 
 Arthur was unwilling to go when his mother 
 arose, but hearing Mrs. Somerville say that 
 the little girls were going to the beach, and 
 that they could walk along together, he was 
 much pleased. Mrs. Somerville urged Mrs. 
 Morton to call again, said she was sure it 
 would do the children good to see the little 
 boy, and promised to call soon at the parson- 
 age. Cousin Ernest actually walked up the 
 stoop and carried Coralie down, while Pat 
 lifted the carriage down ; and then set her in, 
 and very carefully, too. But he could not 
 resist giving Rosalie a sly pinch as he left 
 them, which made her walk briskly away ? 
 fearing that he was following her. 
 
 The carriage so took Arthur's fancy, that he 
 insisted upon sharing Pat's duty of "pony," 
 much to Pat's annoyance, who could not bear 
 any interference on this point ; but he yielded 
 his place when Coralie asked him to do so, 
 and I am afraid was a little gratified to find
 
 78 COKALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 that Arthur was a deal too small to make it 
 move, though he pulled with all his strength. 
 After trying several times he concluded to fol- 
 low Pat's advice, to go behind and push it 
 with his hands, to be footman. 
 
 " How can I be a footman if I push with 
 my hands ?" asked Arthur, looking at Pat in 
 surprise. 
 
 Pat was so taken aback at this question, 
 that he could only laugh, and show every 
 tooth in his head. " Well, be handman, then," 
 said he. So Arthur, informing his mothei 
 that he was " handman," went to work. This 
 arrangement was quite satisfactory, and they 
 proceeded on their way, Mrs. Morton and 
 Rosalie walking by them. They stopped at 
 the rock Coralie's favorite resting-place. 
 There was a smooth stone here that made a 
 comfortable seat, and Mrs. Morton telling the 
 children she would sit by Coralie, sent them 
 for a stroll on the beach. 
 
 There they sat a long time : the children 
 running about ; now and then coming back
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS. OF CHARITY. 79 
 
 with hands full of pretty shells and stones; 
 and running away again to play. Arthur 
 with his rosy cheeks, frolicsome ways, and 
 quaint speeches, was very charming to quiet 
 Rosalie, who grew so interested in his whims 
 and ways, that she ran about, and Coralie 
 heard her laugh aloud once or twice, and 
 stopped talking to listen to the unusual sound. 
 
 Coralie did not know how she got on the 
 subject, she only knew she was telling all 
 about their home at the South ; of the death 
 of her parents, and of their new home at their 
 uncle's ; and of her surprise and sorrow, when 
 she discovered she was unable to walk; to 
 which Mrs. Morton listened and sympathized 
 in a way that made it seem like talking to an 
 old friend. 
 
 " And you are quite contented now ?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "I cannot say that, ma'am," said Coralie; 
 " but it is so lovely here, so much better than 
 being in the city, I think I would not mind it 
 for a little while if I knew I would get well.
 
 00 CORALIE AND KO8ALIE, 
 
 Aunty is so good to me. She tells me nice 
 lines out of the Bible, when I feel very mis- 
 erable, I mean unhappy, for I do sometimes. 
 
 1 feel wicked and cross. I want to go about, 
 and I get so tired of waiting," the small hands 
 moved impatiently over one another, " and I 
 hoped so to be of some use; but I cannot 
 now." 
 
 "My child," Mrs. Morton took the two 
 restless hands lovingly in her own, " it is a 
 great trial, I know, and perhaps it is better 
 now not to be thinking of what might have 
 been, it makes it so much harder to bear the 
 trial. It would be a good plan to go on with 
 the duties that come for each day, and 
 leave the rest. God sends afflictions for our 
 good." 
 
 " Aunty tells me that, when I get very un- 
 happy. I say it over ever so often, but it 
 does not always help me I cannot think of 
 it I had such hopes, such wishes of doing so 
 much good when I grew up." 
 
 "Of what, my love?" Mrs. Morton drew
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 81 
 
 her on to talk of it, thinking it might soothe 
 her. 
 
 " Of our plan, Rosie's and mine, to do 
 something for others for the little orphans 
 that had no one to care for them and for the 
 poor sick people, like that good lady that 
 Aunty tells us about, who was so good to the 
 wounded soldiers in the war. I wanted to be 
 a sister of charity, like Florence Nightingale. 
 But now I know it must all go. Rose is so 
 afraid, she will be frightened without me. Is 
 it wrong, ma'am ? Aunty says it is not." 
 
 " God does put good thoughts in our hearts, 
 but he also sends afflictions ; and I think it is 
 not right, my love, to think that any plan of 
 our own is the only proper one. When we 
 propose to do some benevolent action, and are 
 irritated or even annoyed that our plan can- 
 not be carried out, it is sin, not our own good- 
 ness, which makes us so. Our best actions are 
 mixed with evil. If we say that we have no 
 sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not 
 in us. I suppose the best plan would be not
 
 02 CORALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 to think about the future, but to be patient 
 nnder the present sorrow." 
 
 " Ought we not to help others, ma'am ?" 
 
 " Yes, my dear, and if we resolve to do the 
 duties that are before us, I suppose we will 
 see a way of helping others. I think the 
 living so in hopes of what you will do when 
 you are grown up, is not right. It is apt to 
 take your mind off from real duties." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, I will try to remember it, and 
 keep from thinking it hard to be so helpless." 
 
 " You are not helpless, my child. Think of 
 the dear sister who loves you and depends 
 upon you. Then you have so many chances 
 of helping others. I know a great many 
 things that you can do ; and your uncle told 
 Mr. Morton that you had taught Pat ever 
 since he had been with you." 
 
 " I have not cared about it lately," Cora- 
 lie's voice was very repentant ; " Rose does it 
 for me now. Somehow I have not really 
 cared." 
 
 " Well, you will begin it again, I am sure,
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAKITY. O3 
 
 when you think over it a little and then you 
 have to be cheerful, and not reflect on the 
 sad past. I know that you can be of great 
 assistance to me. I would like to have a 
 little sewing-society. Your sister and yourself 
 might come down to the cottage once a week 
 for that purpose. There are a number of 
 children in Wynn who are in need of clothes. 
 If your uncle would permit you to come, we 
 might make it a very nice thing." 
 
 " Oh, how I would like it !" exclaimed 
 Ooralie. "Do you really think I could do 
 any thing, Mrs. Morton ?" 
 
 "I do not doubt it at all, and to prove it. we 
 will commence next week. I know two or 
 three other little girls that I am sure will give 
 us their assistance." 
 
 " It sounds very pleasant to hear you talk 
 about it. I will try not to think all the bad 
 thoughts." 
 
 " Suppose I write you a line to say over 
 when the bad thoughts come ?" 
 
 Coral ie thought that would be very nice,
 
 84 CORALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 and Mrs. Morton took a slip of paper from her 
 pocket, and wrote on it with a pencil : " Put 
 thou thy trust in the Lord, and be doing good." 
 " I think that one will suit you," she said, put- 
 ting it in Coralie's hand. 
 
 Coralie read it over. There were tears in 
 her eyes as she pointed to the last part, and 
 she said, " Somehow you have made me feel 
 as if I was not, after all, so helpless. I will try 
 to think of it, ma'am." 
 
 " I think your papa would have told you 
 that was the right way." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, papa talked to iis very often, 
 and used to tell us to strive to be good chil- 
 dren when he was gone, never to tell a lie, and 
 to be obedient to Uncle Charles. He would 
 make us kneel down by his bed, and say the 
 prayers with him ; and he made us promise to 
 say them every morning and evening, and to 
 read in the .Bible every day. Oh ! papa was 
 so good. He said that we must never forget 
 that mamma and he had prayed to God for 
 us, that we might be kept from temptation,
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAKITT. 85 
 
 and lie hoped if we lived we would be good 
 women. So I try to think of that, and take 
 care of little Eose." The upturned face grew 
 indistinct, for a moment, to Mrs. Morton's 
 eyes. " She is so shy," continued Coralie, 
 " that it makes me feel badly to see her go 
 about alone. She said it was so pleasant down 
 at the church, that it made her remember our 
 home away at the South, and I thought I 
 would like to get well enough to go once 
 more." 
 
 " I hope you can go, my dear, and there is 
 the Sunday-school. I would like to have your 
 sister come, and you, too, if your uncle will 
 permit you. I think we can arrange it to his 
 satisfaction. It is not as if you were really ill. 
 On the Sundays that you feel well, Pat could 
 draw you down to the cottage early, and Mr. 
 Morton will carry you to church and put you in 
 your pew. If you sit in the pew with me, you 
 know you can stay there during the service." 
 
 " I will ask Uncle Charles to let me go. 
 Aunt Charlotte will not care, for she says we
 
 86 COKALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 must go to Uncle Charles for what we want. 
 I can ask him to let me try it once, and if it 
 does me no harm, he may let me go often ; 
 and then it will give Pat a chance." 
 
 " Does Pat read P 
 
 " Not very well, though he tries very hard. 
 He learns much more quickly by repeating 
 after us. He has learned the first part of the 
 catechism, and a number of hymns, in that 
 way. He says it makes him dizzy the letters, 
 seem so hard. Do you not think it may be 
 because he is not used to studying ?" 
 
 Mrs. Morton thought it very probable ; and 
 promised that Mr. Morton would take charge 
 of Pat on Sundays, if they could obtain Mr. 
 Somerville's permission. 
 
 Coralie was surprised when Eosalie came 
 up and said aunty was coming for them. 
 
 " Aunty always comes down for us," said 
 Coralie to Mrs. Morton ; " we are apt to stay 
 too late when left to ourselves." 
 
 Honor's face broke into a pleasant smile, as 
 she came near ; and she made a low courtesy
 
 THE LITTLE SISTKRS OF CHARITY. 87 
 
 to Mrs. Morton, and said she hoped the chil- 
 dren had not been troublesome. 
 
 " No, any thing but that. I have enjoyed 
 myself with my little friend here, while the 
 others have been roaming on the beach. I 
 only hope I have not tired her." 
 
 " Ah ! ma'am, she's never tired, I never 
 saw the like of the spirit that child has in her. 
 She beats all. We'll not detain the lady 
 longer, my pets. Many thanks, ma'am, for 
 your kindness in bringing the little boy. I 
 have never seen such a color in Miss Rosie's 
 face, nor such a child-light in her eyes." 
 
 " Then you must bring the young ladies 
 down to the cottage, to see Arthur. We have 
 the beach there, you know, as well as here." 
 
 " Is it that pretty house covered with vines?" 
 asked Rosalie. 
 
 " Yes, that is our home," said Mrs. Morton. 
 
 " Papa says it is his castle, and that mamma 
 is the queen. He calls her ' Queen of Roses.' 
 Doesn't he, mamma ?" cried Arthur. Mrs. Mor- 
 ton blushed, and smiled at Arthur's question.
 
 88 COKALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 " What does your papa say you are ?" asked 
 Rosalie. 
 
 " Oh ! papa calls me all sorts of pet names ; 
 but Margery says I am a running vine, because 
 I am all over everywhere. Will you ask your 
 grandmother to bring you to see me ?" added 
 Arthur, pointing to Honor. 
 
 Rosalie and Coralie were much amused at 
 Arthur's mistake. 
 
 After parting with their new friends, Rosalie 
 entertained her sister with stories of their 
 frolics on the beach ; and appealed to Pat for 
 corroboration of her statement, to which he 
 replied that .Arthur was a knowing chap. 
 
 Rosalie really seemed to have awakened to 
 new life, for even Coralie had never known 
 her, in their home days, to be so merry. 
 
 They talked over the pleasant visit with 
 aunty, in the evening, and were all so well 
 entertained, as to be amazed to hear Honor 
 say that they had sat up long past their usual 
 bedtime.
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAKITY. 
 
 CHAPTEK VI. 
 
 MR. SO:MERVILLE consented to Coralie's try- 
 ing Mrs. Morton's plan. He was only too 
 glad to put the children in a way of enjoying 
 themselves, and Rosalie's brightened face made 
 him the more willing to accede to their wishes. 
 He thought them entirely too solemn, and was 
 ready to enter into any plan for making them 
 happier, though he thought they had strange 
 ways of enjoying themselves. 
 
 Sunday came, and with it a heavy storm, 
 that lasted through Monday and part of Tues- 
 day, and that kept the children closely housed 
 for the three days. And then, more disap- 
 pointment, another rainy Sunday, so that 
 another week must elapse before Coralie's 
 wish could be fulfilled. But they made their 
 
 visit to the parsonage, and had commenced 
 9*
 
 90 COBALIE AND EOSALIE, 
 
 their society. Coralie and Rosalie could talk 
 to Mrs. Morton of all their little troubles, and 
 they always found her an affectionate and 
 sympathizing friend ; and as for Arthur, why, 
 he loved them dearly, and had brought Mar- 
 gery to acknowledge that they were very good 
 little girls. 
 
 A bright Sunday came, and the children, 
 under Honor's protection, with Pat, of course, 
 to draw the carnage, went down to the par- 
 sonage. Mrs. Morton and Arthur were wait- 
 ing for them, and as they came to the gate, 
 Mrs. Morton whispered something to her lit- 
 tle boy, who then walked up the side-path of 
 the garden, and presently returned with his 
 father. 
 
 Coralie's face flushed as Mr. Morton took 
 her in his arms, but he carried her so gently, 
 and was so kind, that she did not find it at all 
 unpleasant. There were not more than three 
 or four children in- the church, to Coralie's 
 great relief, for she had rather dreaded the 
 scholars seeing her carried in. Mr. Morton
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAKITY. 91 
 
 seated her in the corner of his own pew, and 
 then went to speak to the children, who were 
 coming in ; so Coralie had time to look about 
 her. 
 
 The scholars were assembling pretty rapidly. 
 And by the time that Mrs. Morton, who had 
 not followed Coralie immediately, came in 
 with the three children, Mr. Morton was ready 
 to open the school. It so happened, this Sun- 
 day, that five more new scholars came the 
 children whose parents Mr. Morton had visit- 
 ed the same day that he called at Mr. Somer- 
 ville's. The two girls were placed in Mrs. 
 Morton's class, and the boys Mr. Morton took 
 into his own. 
 
 "When school had commenced, Coralie, who 
 was looking over the Collect for the day, heard 
 voices behind her. The conversation was for 
 a time quite indistinct ; gradually the voices 
 grew louder, and she heard some one say, 
 " Susan Downs, if you don't give it to me, I'll 
 tell the teacher." 
 
 " Who cares, Betsey ? I tell you I picked 'em
 
 92 COKALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 up ; and now I've got them, I'm going to keep 
 them." 
 
 " But I shook 'em down, for I climbed the 
 tree." 
 
 Coralie could not resist looking behind her, 
 and she saw two girls about her own age in a 
 very eager discussion over a bunch of cherries 
 that one had taken from her pocket, and was 
 greedily devouring. The unfortunate* Betsey, 
 who had not a chance at the fruit, particularly 
 attracted Coralie's attention; she was so un- 
 tidy, so uncombed, and so shabby in her ap- 
 pearance, and had the additional disadvantage 
 of a scar on her left cheek, that drew her eye- 
 lid down in a very unpleasant manner. 
 
 Her companion's countenance was much 
 more agreeable. Her hair was neatly arranged, 
 and her face looked doubly clean by the side 
 of Betsey's unwashed one. She had just 
 detected Betsey's intention of springing to 
 catch the fruit, and was striving to hold it 
 beyond her reach, when she saw Coralie look- 
 ing at her.
 
 k 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 93 
 
 "La! Susan," said Betsey, who had also 
 seen her; "she's looking. Now, I suppose 
 you'll tell the teacher." 
 
 " I think Mrs. Morton will not like it, if you 
 do not know* the lesson when she comes up 
 here," said Coralie. 
 
 " Will you promise me not t* tell ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Coralie, " if you will promise 
 me one thing." 
 
 They*eyed her curiously. 
 
 "To tell yourself; I mean, when you go 
 home, to stop and tell the person you stole 
 them from, that you took them, and that you 
 are sorry." 
 
 "Who said they were stolen?" asked Betsey, 
 quickly. 
 
 "I heard you say so, yourself. It is not 
 right but we must not talk any more. It is 
 time for catechism. Mrs. Morton is ready to 
 hear us." 
 
 Mrs. Morton had been questioning some 
 pupils, at the other end of the class, and had 
 not heard any of the foregoing conversation.
 
 94 COKALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 She took up the book now, and called their 
 attention. 
 
 Betsey Harper and Susan Downs could not 
 answer one question correctly, but Mrs. Mor- 
 ton did not appear surprised at this, and said 
 she supposed it was difficult for them to learn 
 at first, and marked off a portion, requesting 
 them to study it, and repeat it to her on the 
 following Sunday. Then, to make it easier for 
 them so to do, she took the book, and asked 
 them the questions, requiring them to read the 
 answers aloud from their own books. 
 
 Rosalie and Coralie had been carefully 
 taught, and were so well behaved, and had so 
 perfect a lesson, that the old pupils were as- 
 tonished, and the new ones, especially Betsey, 
 could do nothing but stare at them with open 
 eyes and mouths. 
 
 By the time Mrs. Morton had explained the 
 lesson to them, Mr. Morton was ready for 
 prayers, before dismissing the school. After 
 school, Mrs. Morton and Eosalie went down 
 to the door to find Arthur. Coralie remained
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 95 
 
 in her seat, and a moment after they had left 
 she felt a pull at her sleeve, and looking up 
 saw Betsey standing in the pew behind her. 
 She was startled, for the scholars had all gone 
 to the seats they generally occupied during 
 service. 
 
 " I say," said Betsey, " one of the girls says 
 you can't walk a speck, and I said it was a 
 fib." 
 
 " No, it is not untrue. I have not walked 
 in more than two months," said Coralie. 
 
 " How did you get here, then ?" 
 
 "I rode to the parsonage in a hand-carriage, 
 and Mr. Morton carried me in from his 
 house." 
 
 " You don't mean that the minister did that ? 
 My ! how queer." 
 
 Coralie could not but smile at her astonished 
 countenance ; still, she wished Betsey would go 
 to her seat ; the bell was ringing for church, 
 and the people coming in so fast. But Betsey 
 seemed to have something yet to say, for she 
 twisted about without moving away, and then
 
 96 CORALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 said, " I don't know how it is, but I sort o' like 
 you. I suppose you couldn't like me a scrap ?" 
 
 " Indeed I could, and I am very glad you 
 like me." A thought struck Coralie, and she 
 added eagerly, " I wish you would do right 
 about" 
 
 " Well, don't I mean to ?" interrupted 
 
 " Will you tell about the cherries ?" 
 
 " Well no," said Betsey, considering. " But 
 I tell you what, I will not do it again." 
 
 " Then you are doing wrong, for the Bible 
 says we must confess our sins." 
 
 " I rather think you don't know what it is 
 to go and tell, and get yourself scolded. You 
 talk like a book, but" 
 
 " You cannot be sorry," persisted Coralie, 
 "if yon do not tell. You cannot be what 
 your lesson to-day bids you, if you do wicked 
 things. It is right to forsake sins, but we 
 must confess them. I think that means pray- 
 ing to God to forgive us, and asking forgive- 
 ness of the persons we have wronged."
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 97 
 
 " Well, I'll say the prayers, I s'pose." 
 
 " Think of your lesson, and what you are by 
 baptism a member of Christ, the child of 
 God, an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven." 
 
 " Well, now, I didn't think of that," said 
 Betsey, half repeating the words after Coralie, 
 and looking wonderingly at her all the time. 
 
 " God loves us, and watches over us." Cor- 
 alie had turned herself in the seat with her 
 hands, and had her eyes eagerly fixed on 
 Betsey. " God sees us all the time ; He saw 
 you to-day in the cherry-tree." 
 
 " I did not think about that." 
 
 "I wish you would do it," said Coralie, 
 looking distressed. " I wish I knew how to 
 say something to make you think it right 
 and to Susan, too, for she helped you. You 
 said you liked me : then do what I ask." 
 
 " It is a pretty hard thing to ask a body to 
 go tell, when she can be just as sorry without 
 telling. I would like to do it, because yon 
 ask me." 
 
 " No, no," said Coralie, " not because I ask
 
 98 COEALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 you, but because it is right. God forgives us 
 when we confess our sins. Can you not see ? 
 Please, do and tell Susan." 
 
 The bell was tolling now, and Betsey was 
 obliged to go to her seat. 
 
 Mr. Somerville did not deem it prudent for 
 Coralie to go to church in the afternoon. So 
 Rosalie went with Honor. Coming out after 
 service, Rosalie noticed one of the new scholars 
 standing by the door. She beckoned Rosalie 
 aside, and said 
 
 " You may tell your sister I know she is 
 your sister, 'cause you look just like each 
 other " As Betsey for she it was paused 
 here, Rosalie nodded yes, and the girl pro- 
 ceeded: "You may tell her I did it. I went 
 and told, and I'll never steal any thing again 
 Sunday, or any day. I rather think Susan 
 Downs won't, either. I thought maybe your 
 sister would like to know that I told, 'cause 
 she's so sort o' nice, and seemed so good. 
 Here! you can have this. I brought it for 
 her, but I would just as soon give it to you."
 
 THE LITTLE SISTEKS OF CIIAKITY. 99 
 
 Betsey put an egg in Rosalie's hand. " It is 
 fresh to-day." 
 
 Rosalie thanked her very cordially, and said 
 she would not keep it, but take it home to 
 Coralie, who she knew would be much pleased. 
 Betsey walked off before Rosalie could say any 
 more. 
 
 Coralie was pleased when she received her 
 odd present, and she felt quite happy when 
 Rosalie told her Betsey's message. 
 
 " 'Tis a very nice Sunday-night pillow, Ro- 
 sie dear," she said, " to have tried to teach 
 some one right. I am so glad of it, because I 
 had thought Betsey so unpleasant-looking. 
 At first, I did not want to speak to her and 
 she could not help her looks. I forgot that I 
 was unable to walk about, like the others, to- 
 day. It seemed so nice, our being at church 
 together." 
 
 " But it is not nice home, Sunday evenings, 
 while Cousin Ernest is here. I wish he would 
 not come to Wyim so often, and laugh and 
 tease us about every thing we say, and make
 
 100 CORALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 Aunt Charlotte laugh at us too," said Ro- 
 salie. 
 
 " Dear heart, he's only amusing you. 'Tis 
 his way. My pet is not going to get vexed 
 to-night," said Honor, taking off her glasses, 
 and tapping with them on her hand, as she 
 smiled at Rosalie. " See ! the sun is going 
 down brightly, and my Rose-bud will not let 
 it sink away till she has cleared away the bad 
 feeling." 
 
 " It is going very fast, aunty dear ; but I 
 cannot help wishing he would not come by 
 me," said little Rose, with an appealing look 
 at her sister. " I suppose I must not mind it. 
 Oh dear ! there is the tea-bell." 
 
 Rosalie walked dolefully in from the piazza, 
 and Honor followed with Coralie. 
 
 Mrs. Somerville was unusually kind to- 
 night asking the children about the Sunday- 
 school ; and interested Rosalie by asking 
 about Arthur Morton whether he went to 
 church, and if he could read. 
 
 " Arthur begins to read very nicely, and he
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS .OF CHARTIY. 101 
 
 always remembers the text. Do you not think 
 it very smart, Aunt Charlotte, for such a little 
 boy to remember texts ?" 
 
 This was a very brave speech for Rosalie. 
 She had never before ventured to say as much 
 in Cousin Ernest's presence. Pat here, quite 
 forgetful where he was, stopped, bread-plate in 
 hand, and said eagerly 
 
 " Yes, indade ; and the way he can say the 
 catechism oh my! " Here recollecting 
 himself, his face became scarlet, and he rushed 
 precipitately from the room deaf to all Mr. 
 Somerville's calls to him to come back, but 
 not so deaf as to prevent his hearing Mr. 
 Ernest's peals of laughter, even as far down as 
 the coal-cellar, where he ran for shelter, and 
 where he speedily changed the color of his 
 cheeks by diving, head-foremost, into the 
 coal. 
 
 " Cora," said Eose, when they were getting 
 ready for bed, " I have done nothing good, as 
 you have, to-day, to go to sleep upon. I have 
 not done any thing, for anybody."
 
 102 COKAL1B AND KOSALIE, 
 
 " Why, Rose, I am sure you have done me 
 good you do always." 
 
 " Do I ? I am so glad for I don't seem to 
 be any thing but cross." 
 
 Coralie laughed so much at the very idea of 
 Rosie's being cross, that Rosalie began to 
 think it was rather funny too, and concluded 
 that she was not cross now, at all events. 
 
 Coralie had happy thoughts of Susan and 
 Betsey, and she could not but remember the 
 two girls in her prayers that night. 
 
 " Are your children in bed, Honor ?" asked 
 Mrs. Somerville, who was going into the par- 
 lor as the old woman crossed the hall. 
 
 " Indeed, yes, ma'am ; and I never saw a 
 blesseder pair of children, or gentler-behaved. 
 I am thinking, ma'am, they must have had 
 the good training at home. They often puzzle 
 me entirely, with their old-fashioned way of 
 saying things." 
 
 " They certainly are well-behaved children, 
 and not at all troublesome. It is a great pity 
 Coralie is so afflicted," said Mrs. Somerville.
 
 THE LITTLE SISTEE6 OF CHAKITY. 103 
 
 " I doubt, ma'am, with all respect to you, 
 whether she looks on it in that light. She is 
 so patient ! I never saw the child's equal." 
 
 " Yes, I dare say but they are very odd. 
 Just lay this shawl over my shoulders, Honor. 
 The evenings are quite chilly. The children 
 are very unlike other little girls. I think they 
 mope too much, though. I acknowledge they 
 have improved since we have been here. You 
 must take them out, and amuse them as much 
 as you can. There, that will do." And Mrs. 
 Somerville, folding her shawl over her, entered 
 the parlor and closed the door. 
 
 " But it is the queer thing that* the little 
 motherless ones has to go out of their own 
 family to find the true sort of friends," said 
 the old nurse to herself, as she walked down- 
 stairs. "A blessing surely rests on them 
 poor dears ! The Lord careth for the father- 
 less. I never was more convinced of that than 
 this night, when I looked at my two pets."
 
 104: CORALIE AND ROSAIJE, 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE summer mouths passed rapidly away, 
 almost too quickly for tlie little girls, who 
 could scarcely believe the time for their stay- 
 ing at "Wynn would end in three more weeks. 
 So they had heard their aunt telling their uncle 
 a few evenings before. 
 
 They had now become so acquainted with 
 the country, and gained so many friends, that 
 they had no wish to return to the city. Cousin 
 Ernest had been absent from Wynn the greater 
 part of the summer, and they had in conse- 
 quence been unusually free from his teasing 
 ways. And under the combined influences of 
 new scenes, fresh air, and plenty to occupy 
 them, they had grown happier and more 
 healthy. 
 
 Rosalie had cheeks that vied with her name,
 
 THE LITTLE 8ISTEK8 OF CHAKITY. 105 
 
 and she ran about, and laughed, actually 
 laughed, as merrily as little girls generally do 
 when they are well and happy. She was also 
 losing much of her shyness. Coralie, too, had 
 improved, though she was not able to walk. 
 But the country, and the friends she had made, 
 and Rosalie's improved health, were a great 
 source of pleasure to her. Rosalie could help 
 herself, and could bear to be spoken to now, 
 without disappearing behind her sister, and 
 was more lively, and could cheer Coralie, 
 when she was inclined to be melancholy. 
 
 The sewing-society had succeeded admirably. 
 Mrs. Morton had invited some of the Sunday 
 scholars to join them, and by Coralie's special 
 request, Betsey Harper and Susan Downs 
 were admitted. Betsey was bashful and awk- 
 ward, but she managed to have a clean face 
 and srilooth hair, and really tried to sew neatly, 
 and avoid twisting herself into a knot, every 
 time she was spoken to. She was proud of 
 being a member of the society, and therefore 
 obliging and obedient.
 
 106 COKALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 At tea-time, Mr. Morton would come out 
 from his study, and always had something 
 pleasant to say to each one of them. They 
 usually had an early tea, and returned to their 
 homes before dark. To the two sisters the 
 meetings were delightful. 
 
 One afternoon Pat was drawing the chair- 
 wagon out from the back door, at the parson- 
 age, after a meeting of the children's society, 
 and he had come for his young ladies. As he 
 lifted it from under the steps, Betsey Harper 
 came up and stood by the door-post, directly 
 beside him. 
 
 " You drive Miss Coralie home always, 
 don't you ?" said she, motioning to him to stop. 
 
 " Of course I drive my young lady home. 
 I'm her man." Pat straightened himself up 
 and looked very important. 
 
 "Well, now, wouldn't I like to be her horse, 
 and drive her in that carriage all around ! Oh, 
 my ! wouldn't I ?" Betsey gazed with fondness 
 at the little carriage. " I say," said she again, 
 "I dreamed the other night that she was a sit-
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 107 
 
 ting in that thing, with her hands clasped, all 
 dressed in white, and looking so beautiful, and 
 at such a distance, yet so near to me, that when 
 I tried to touch her with my hand, she was not 
 near me at all, but so far off, so very far off, 
 that it made me cry out, for I thought she was 
 going away from us. I tell you I was won- 
 derful glad to wake up and find it was all 
 a dream." 
 
 Pat whistled, as he stooped down to do 
 something to the handle of the carriage. 
 
 " She's regular good, isn't she ?" continued 
 Betsey. 
 
 " Yis, she is that same, and Miss Rosie too. 
 They try to be good, and they are good. You 
 niver saw any ladies like my young ladies ; I 
 tell you, they've taught me, and been as good 
 to me as Mickey ever was. I would work my 
 fingers off for my two young ladies and don't 
 they know hapes of things ! My ! the way 
 they can read and write, and do all sorts of 
 clever things ! It would make your hair stand 
 on ind just to see how much they know."
 
 108 COEALIE AND BOSALIE, 
 
 Betsey assented to this with an admiring 
 nod and a heavy sigh, exclaiming, " Oh, if I 
 could only do something for her ! You ought 
 to be a happy boy, what has the chance. I 
 suppose you wouldn't let me drive that thing, 
 sometimes ?" 
 
 " My young lady is so used to me, you see, 
 that it would niver do ;" then noticing Betsey's 
 look of disappointment, he added, " Maybe 
 some day I may, for it is very sensible in you 
 to have the sense to admire my young ladies." 
 Pat always laid a stress on the pronoun, and 
 he also made himself more emphatic than 
 usual on the last word, because he considered 
 Rosalie rather neglected in the conversation. 
 Betsey understood him, and added 
 
 " Miss Rosalie is a nice young lady ; of 
 course she's just like her sister, only Miss Cor- 
 alie makes me feel oh, I don't know, so sort 
 of wishing to be good, when I am near her, 
 and as if she really wanted us all to be good, 
 too. Miss Rosalie is very nice and gentle, but 
 I love to sit near Miss Coralie. I like to see
 
 THE LITTLE 8I8TEK8 OF CHARITY. 109 
 
 her eyes, they're so earnest when she's reading 
 the Bible lessons in school. It makes me get on 
 better just to look at her once in a while. You 
 know Susan Downs, the girl that comes with 
 me sometimes ? "Well, she likes her too ; and 
 says she means to come every Sunday to 
 Bchool, and try to be good, and read in her 
 Bible, 'cause Miss Rosalie reads hers every 
 day. I'm going home across lots, up behind 
 the church, for mother will scold if I stay late. 
 Don't forget your promise to me." 
 
 As Betsey said this, she slipped past him, 
 went up through the gate into the church-yard, 
 climbed the fence in a trice, and went through 
 the fields as fast as she could run. Pat had a 
 very thoughtful face, as he drew the carriage 
 around to the door. 
 
 The time for the Somervilles' departure for 
 the city was fast approaching, and Rosalie and 
 Coralie, one afternoon, counting over the days 
 of their stay at "VVynn, were sorrowful to find 
 that in one week's time they would be obliged 
 
 to leave their pleasant country home. The 
 10
 
 110 COKALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 house was beginning to look dreary, for large 
 boxes, packed and unpacked, stood around in 
 the hall, and in the upper rooms. The days 
 were cool now, and the little girls could not sit 
 as formerly in the open air, or saunter along 
 the beach. 
 
 Still, debarred these privileges, they cared 
 not to leave the country. It seemed to them 
 to contain quite enough to make it a pleasant 
 home during the winter months. Rosalie's 
 eyes would swim in tears at the mere thought 
 of going away from Wynn and dear little 
 Arthur Morton, and of relinquishing their 
 rambles on the beach, where they had passed 
 BO many pleasant hours gathering shells for 
 Coralie to make into baskets, sea-weed for her 
 to press, and the pretty pebbles to put on their 
 shelf of curiosities. She felt that she would 
 miss Arthur's meriy voice, and his cheerful 
 eyes, in their dull city home. She was telling 
 this to Coralie one afternoon, and turned her 
 thoughts from her misfortunes with the consol- 
 atory remark, that it was not as if they were
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHABITY. Ill 
 
 going to be separated from one another. 
 " There is nothing as bad as that, Cora dear, 
 is there ?" said she, clasping her arms around 
 her sister's neck. 
 
 " lS"o indeed," Coralie said, returning her 
 sister's embrace quite heartily. 
 
 So they changed the conversation to their 
 plans for the winter, with a resolution not to 
 think of the present sorrow. 
 
 It was dusk, and they were sitting by the 
 fire in their own room that quiet time to- 
 wards evening, when sounds that break upon 
 the stillness seem unusually distinct ; and as 
 they stopped talking for a moment, their 
 attention was arrested by the sound of voices. 
 Coralie said she thought it might be Cousin 
 Ernest and Aunt Charlotte, returning from a 
 ride. 
 
 Ernest had been up a few days, amusing 
 himself driving, fishing, and shooting in- 
 tending to return to town with the family the 
 following week. He had gone out this after- 
 noon, accompanying his mother, on horseback.
 
 112 COBALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 The voices sounded nearer the house, and they 
 could hear the heavy tread, as of many feet, 
 coming up the gravel path, then up the steps, 
 into the hall, and into the parlor, where it 
 ceased. To the listening children, the quiet 
 that succeeded was painful. They stopped 
 talking, and looked at one another. Then 
 Rosalie said she would look out in the hall, 
 and see if any thing was the matter. 
 
 She came back in a moment, quite pale, 
 with the announcement that she thought some- 
 thing serious had occurred. She could hear 
 talking in the parlor, though the door was 
 closed, or nearly so. It was getting so dark 
 in the hall she could scarcely see, but she 
 thought there were two men standing there. 
 She came over to the corner where Coralie 
 was, and sat down by her, eagerly listening 
 for any sound from below. At last she broke 
 silence 
 
 " I do wish aunty would come up and tell 
 us what has happened. I do not like to go 
 down-stairs, if any thing has happened."
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 113 
 
 " What could have happened, Rose ?" said 
 Coralie. " I believe we are frightening our- 
 selves here for nothing at all. Look out again, 
 dear; it is better to know, than to sit here 
 feeling so uncomfortable." 
 
 Rosalie was glad of an excuse to go to the 
 door again. This time there was an oil lamp 
 standing on a chair in the hall, which, in the 
 faint light it emitted, made the hall look more 
 desolate than it had looked in the darkness. 
 Rosalie heard the same sound of voices, and 
 something like crying. It sounded like her 
 aunt's voice. As she was turning back again 
 towards the room, she saw Pat walk through 
 the hall. She beckoned to him, not daring to 
 epeak. 
 
 " O Pat !" said she, as he followed her into 
 the apartment, " what is the matter ? Is any 
 one hurt ? Cora and I have been so frightened 
 because it sounded so still." 
 
 Pat looked frightened also, and his face very 
 pale. 
 
 " O Miss Rosie dear ! Mister Ernest he's 
 100
 
 114 CORAL1E AND ROSALIE, 
 
 hurted very much thrown off his horse, and, 
 oh dear! I'm feared he's killed, the mistress 
 is taking on so. I saw them bring him in. 
 Oh, it was dreadful !" and Pat hid his face in 
 his hands. He had been wandering about in 
 the hall, he said, afraid to go near the parlor 
 door ; and was very glad to come and sit with 
 them, for he felt lonely. " They sint for the 
 doctor, Miss Rosie," said he, drawing his chair 
 up to the fire, " and I heerd one of the men 
 say that it was a good three mile to the doc- 
 tor's house." 
 
 " Is any one there besides Aunt Charlotte 
 and Uncle Charles ?" asked Coralie. 
 
 " Yis, miss dear, Honor is there. She was 
 in the kitchen, and Mr. Somerville sent down 
 for her." 
 
 Further than this, Pat knew nothing ; and 
 they sat looking at each other listening 
 eagerly, and with beating hearts, for any 
 sounds from below. It might have been a 
 half an hour after the children, in their 
 anxiety, thought it two hours that they
 
 THE LITTLE 8ISTEES OF CHAKITY. 115 
 
 heard a wagon coming along the road at a 
 rapid rate. It stopped at the house, and they 
 could hear one person walking up the path. 
 Pat looked over the stairs, returned, and said 
 he rather guessed it was the doctor, for he saw 
 a gentleman walk into the parlor and close the 
 door. They sat down again by the fire. 
 
 " Is it not dreadful 2" said Kosalie. " Cora, 
 I was sorry that Cousin Ernest came to Wynu, 
 and now " 
 
 " Sure, miss dear, perhaps it's only a faint 
 he's in," said Pat, trying to console her. 
 
 " Oh, how I wish aunty would come up ! 
 Did you ever see any one faint, Pat ?" 
 
 " Yis, miss ; Mickey used to, when he took 
 sick. He used to turn all white like the snow, 
 all at oncet ; but it wasn't as awful as Mister 
 Ernest looked to-night, 'cause his head was 
 bleeding." Pat shuddered. 
 
 " If we only knew about it ! It is so dread- 
 ful to sit here, listening and waiting. Cora, 
 let us do something, to keep from thinking of 
 it. Can't we read something ?"
 
 116 CORALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 Rosalie went to her shelf to get a book. 
 
 "Miss Rosie dear, if you could only say 
 some of thim hymns over out loud, I think 
 'twould sound very nice." 
 
 " So it would." And Rosalie began to re- 
 peat 
 
 "When I can read my title clear." 
 
 Pat knew this hymn, and repeated the words 
 with her, though in a whisper. 
 
 After Rosalie had finished, Coralie and Pat 
 followed her example, each saying it aloud; 
 then they all said it together. This took up a lit- 
 tle time, and made them feel somewhat better. 
 
 Tea-time came and passed no one came up. 
 It was growing very dark ; and it was only by 
 the dying flames of the wood fire that the 
 children could distinguish one another. Pat 
 had offered to get a lamp, but they had begged 
 him not to leave them; and, drawing their 
 chairs closer to each other, and nearer to the 
 fire, sat in anxious expectation. By-aud-by 
 Honor came up, and they could see she had 
 been crying. The children turned to her.
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 117 
 
 " Ah ! my pets, I came but for a moment 
 just to see ye'es. And you have had no sup- 
 per yet." 
 
 " Oh, we don't care for any thing to eat, 
 aunty. How is Cousin Ernest ?" 
 
 " Ah ! he's very bad very bad, Eose-bud," 
 replied Honor, shaking her head. 
 
 " Was that the doctor that came in a 
 wagon?" asked Coralie. 
 
 " It was, dear ; but your uncle has sent to 
 town for Doctor Conover, and they expect him 
 in the morning. I only came up to have a 
 look at my pets, for I must go back to tend 
 him. I thought 'twould be better to come 
 and tell you myself not to expect me back to- 
 night, dears." 
 
 " Does Cousin Ernest know any one, 
 aunty ?" said Coralie. 
 
 " He has not opened his eyes yet, dear, he 
 lies quite still, and breathes heavy-like. We 
 are going to carry him up to his room in a 
 short time. Now, good-bye, my pets, Pat will 
 get you some supper, and then go to bed like
 
 118 COKALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 good children. Who knows but what I may 
 have good news for ye'es in the morning ?" 
 
 Pat gained some more information, on going 
 down into the kitchen for his young ladies' 
 tea, from the coachman, who was talking to 
 the cook, which he delivered to them on his re- 
 turn to the room, somewhat in this manner 
 
 "Mister Ernest went out riding with his 
 mother, and was determined, notwithstanding 
 all the mistress said agin it, to ride the new 
 black horse that he had sint down the week 
 afore. At last he coaxed her into going with 
 him, and you know Mister Ernest can get the 
 mistress to do any thing he plazes. Well, they 
 wint and about two miles from here the horse 
 gave the big lep in the air, and away Mr. 
 Ernest flew off his back, right down on to the 
 stones. Some workmin brought him home, 
 and the mistress she's a going on in a dreadful 
 way : and the master, he has followed the mes- 
 senger to the city for Doctor Conover." 
 
 As can well be imagined, the children had 
 lost all appetite for their tea. They felt heart-
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 119 
 
 sick and lonely in the large dreary house, now 
 doubly dreary, in this great sorrow that had 
 come to its inmates. They could do nothing 
 but talk about the accident, and listen to the 
 sounds that reached their ears from the parlor. 
 
 Pat coaxed them to eat a little, and talked 
 cheerfully about the doctor from town making 
 all things right. And in his own good-natured 
 way kept up a show of cheerfulness he was far 
 from feeling, for he would suddenly forget be 
 quite absent then as suddenly look up, grow 
 cheery and talkative. 
 
 When the little girls were safely ensconced 
 in bed, they heard the same heavy steps up the 
 stairs that they bad heard early in the evening, 
 when the men were bringing their cousin to 
 the house. They knew now that Ernest was 
 being carried to his own room. They drew 
 closer to one another. 
 
 " Rosie dear," said Coralie, " Cousin Ernest 
 never went to church." 
 
 " No, Cora, and he always laughed so about 
 it."
 
 120 COKALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 " Would it not be dreadful if he was never 
 to get well never get so that he could like to 
 go to church before he died f 
 
 " He is not bad, is he, Cora ? I know I did 
 not like him to tease us. I am sorry now. If 
 he would only get well, he might tease me as 
 much as he pleased." 
 
 "I am sorry too, Hose, that I disliked it so. 
 I wish we could do something for him if he 
 could only get better." 
 
 " There is nothing we can do, Cora." 
 
 " Yes, Eose, we can do something, we can 
 pray for him."
 
 THE LITTLE SISTEBS OF CHAKITY. 121 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 ERNEST SOMERVILLE was very ill, and for 
 some weeks the doctor feared he would not 
 recover. His father fretted and worried, and 
 every time he was in the room would ask the 
 young man if he felt any better, or go on ex- 
 peditions through the country for delicacies to 
 tempt his appetite ; stopping three or four 
 times some days at the doctor's to hear his 
 opinion of his son, and to ask if any thing more 
 could be done than they were doing. 
 
 During this time the children were almost 
 forgotten at home, excepting by Pat. Honor 
 had entire charge of the sick man, and could 
 spare but a few odd moments some days to 
 speak to her darlings. But the family at the 
 parsonage thought of them at this time. Mrs. 
 
 Morton compassionated their lonely situation. 
 n
 
 122 COKALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 They were getting dispirited, could not become 
 interested in Pat's lessons, grew sad and silent, 
 more like the quiet children they had been 
 when they first came to Wynn ; so that, in his 
 care and anxiety for his son, Mr. Somerville 
 had no wish to oppose Mrs. Morton's desire to 
 take Coralie and Rosalie to the parsonage for a 
 week or ten days. 
 
 It was, in many respects, a happy week to 
 them, although saddened by the remembrance 
 of their cousin's illness. Pat came down 
 every day to see them, and had, usually, a 
 message for them from Honor, and towards 
 the latter part of their visit, brought more 
 cheering news. 
 
 Although he did not appear to care when 
 they left home, Mr. Somerville must have 
 missed his nieces, for about a week after he 
 drove down to Mr. Morton's himself, said that 
 Ernest was rather better, and that he wanted 
 his girls home again. The children were hap- 
 py at the good news, and so pleased that their 
 uncle should wish to have them again, that it
 
 THE LITTLE SISTEKS OF CHAEITY. 123 
 
 in a measure lessened their disappointment at 
 leaving their dear Mrs. Morton. 
 
 Their uncle was more lively than he had 
 been since his son's accident ; thanked Mr. 
 and Mrs. Morton cordially for their kir^ness 
 to the children, and spoke hopefully of getting 
 to town by the first of December, if his son 
 continued to improve. 
 
 "When they arrived at home, Honor came to 
 the door and took them in her motherly arms, 
 and said it did her heart good to see them 
 home once more, and Pat's face was wreathed 
 in smiles as he skipped about, waiting upon 
 them at the table. Mr. Somerville said they 
 must drink tea with him, and sitting down at 
 the fire with one upon each knee, appeared 
 thoroughly to enjoy himself. He had been, 
 he said, so lonely and sad that he wanted them 
 by him. 
 
 "Is not Aunt Charlotte coming down, to- 
 night, uncle ?" asked Rosalie, after having 
 wondered about her aunt's absence all tea- 
 time.
 
 124: CORALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 "No, your aunt is not well, dear, tired out 
 with watching ; she's quite miserable. We must 
 be off to town as soon as Ernest gets about, 
 now, and that will cure him. As for myself, I 
 think I would like it quite as well here for the 
 next four or five months, just for once ; and 
 with my little girls for company, and with 
 plenty of good sleighing and such sort of fun, 
 we might pass a pleasant winter; but your 
 aunt and Ernest never would consent to be 
 shut up in an old country village during the 
 winter season." 
 
 "We were wishing to stay longer, uncle, just 
 the night that Cousin Ernest was brought 
 home," said Rosalie, half-shuddering at the 
 remembrance of the time ; " and we were 
 sorry afterwards that we had our wish." 
 
 " So you have not liked it since ?" 
 
 "We liked it very much," said truthful 
 Rosalie, " and we liked to stay at Mr. Mor- 
 ton's ; but we are very sorry to have it come 
 in such a way." 
 
 " So you like it down there at the parsonage ?
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 125 
 
 Well, it is a pretty place though it is getting 
 rather winterish-looking there now. What do 
 you do there ?" 
 
 " Oh, a great many things. Mrs. Morton is 
 so good she makes it so pleasant to us ; and 
 Mr. Morton reads and explains to us stories in 
 the evening, and tells us about parts of the 
 Bible, too." 
 
 " And you really like that sort of thing 
 better than interesting story-books ?" 
 
 " I don't think I like it so much as I ought," 
 said Eosalie; "but it is right, and we must 
 read the Bible." 
 
 " Why must, little one?" 
 
 " The Bible says we must search the Scrip- 
 tures ; so, if we don't, it is wicked. I don't 
 always want to do it, Uncle Charles ; but Cora 
 never forgets about it. She sometimes puts 
 me in mind of it." 
 
 " No, no, Eose, you would not forget," said 
 Coralie. 
 
 Mr. Somerville looked at them both, with a 
 queer smile on his face. He asked them a
 
 126 CORALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 number of questions about every thing they 
 had done since they had been away. When 
 he had inquired about every thing he could 
 think of, he said it was time for them to go 
 up-stairs, fancying they must be fatigued. 
 
 " I told Pat to make a fire in your room. I 
 hope he did not forget to attend to it." 
 
 " I will go and see, uncle," said Rosalie. 
 
 As their uncle thought that the best way of 
 ascertaining the fact, Rosalie went up-stairs. 
 Coralie, who had been sitting quietly some 
 time, raised her head and said quickly, as 
 Rosalie closed the door-^- 
 
 " Uncle Charles, will you let me go and see 
 Cousin Ernest? I will not talk. Please, let 
 me go with you, only a few minutes." 
 
 " I suppose you might go for a moment. I 
 will take you as I go up-stairs and we can 
 meet Rosalie, if she wants to go, too." 
 
 Rosalie did not much care to see her cousin ; 
 but, knowing that Coralie was going, followed 
 them, keeping close behind her uncle. 
 
 The room was dimly lighted. Old Honor
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 127 
 
 was sitting by the fire, stirring something in a 
 cup. Mr. Somerville went over to the bedside. 
 Ernest was asleep, and they thought looked 
 shockingly pale and thin. One arm was out- 
 side of the cover, and had a bandage. He 
 lay so still that, but for Uncle Charles' assu- 
 rance that he was asleep, the little girls would 
 have been frightened ; while the cloth on his 
 head made him look very unnatural to them. 
 They were quite willing to go away, although 
 when Mr. Somerville placed Coralie in her 
 chair, in her own room, he had given her a 
 promise that she should see her cousin every 
 day, and that he would take her. And he 
 kept his promise, too. 
 
 Shortly before tea-time, each day, he would 
 go for her into the room. Eosalie accompanied 
 them sometimes, but not often ; Cousin Ernest's 
 eyes looked so large and piercing when lie 
 turned them on her, a little afraid. But Cor- 
 alie liked to have her chair wheeled up to the 
 bed, and would sit there by him as long as Mr. 
 Somervillo would permit her.
 
 128 CORALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 At first Mrs. Somerville was fearful it would 
 annoy her son, but for a time he appeared 
 scarcely to notice her ; he was too ill. Coralie 
 would sit there, and watch him so faithfully, 
 that Honor trusted her to give him the medi- 
 cines sometimes for, with her hand, she could 
 easily reach the table where they were. She 
 would also wet the cloth and lay it on his fore- 
 head, and only asked to sit there and watch him. 
 
 Seeing that it gratified her, and that she 
 behaved so well, Mrs. Somerville in a few 
 days became accustomed to see Coralie wheeled 
 in towards the bed. 
 
 "While she was sitting by the bed one after- 
 noon, Honor went down-stairs to see about 
 some chicken-broth that the cook was prepar- 
 ing for the patient, telling her to ring the bell 
 on the table if he stirred. Honor had been 
 gone but a few minutes, when Ernest opened 
 his eyes. Coralie reached for the bell, but he 
 shook his head. 
 
 "You need not ring," he said. "What 
 makes you sit by my bed so much ?"
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAKITY. 129 
 
 " I did not think you would mind it. I 
 wanted to do something for you, Cousin 
 Ernest. I am sorry you have been so very ill. 
 Can I do any thing for you ?" 
 
 " You can't make my arm well, I suppose, 
 or help me to get out of bed. I am tired of 
 lying here. So you were sorry I was sick ?" 
 
 " Oh, Rosie and I were both sorry. It has 
 been so sad here. I have been wishing so to 
 come and see you, Cousin Ernest!" 
 
 " Well, that's queer. What were you think- 
 ing about when I woke up ?" 
 
 " About you thinking how sick you had 
 been, and how dreadful it would have been if 
 you had died then." 
 
 Ernest stared at her very hard. 
 
 " So you thought of that. Well, what of it ?" 
 
 " O Cousin Ernest ! it was so hard to think 
 that perhaps you had not tried to please God, 
 and might not have said your prayers that 
 day, nor asked for forgiveness and to die so 
 suddenly!" 
 
 " Well, you could not help that, you know."
 
 130 OOEALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 " But it made us feel so sorry." 
 
 " You could do nothing for me, so that you 
 need not have troubled yourselves about it." 
 
 " But we could do one thing." 
 
 " Well, what was that ?" 
 
 " Ask God to let you get well again." Cor- 
 alie leaned her head forward. 
 
 "Ernest, my son, talking! I am afraid 
 Coralie will annoy you," said Mrs. Somerville, 
 who had entered from her own room. 
 
 " She does not annoy me at all. It is this 
 arm of mine that keeps me here that annoys 
 me. Oh dear !" He turned quite white. 
 
 " I am sure that it is seeing the child, that 
 has worried you," persisted Mrs. Somerville. 
 
 Ernest was so emphatic in his declaration 
 that the child did not worry him, that he 
 exhausted all his remaining strength trying to 
 prove it ; and by the time old Honor returned, 
 he could only say that Coralie should not be 
 sent away, and that she should come back 
 whenever she felt disposed. He did not speak 
 to her any more that day, nor the next ; but
 
 TUK LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 131 
 
 the day after, he noticed her presence, smiled, 
 and said he was glad she had come again ; and 
 told Honor she might go out and take a stroll, 
 for Coralie would take care of him. 
 
 There was no resisting him, for he was 
 quite determined to have his own way, and 
 make the old woman walk in the fresh air. 
 Coralie was gratified to think that he cared to 
 have her by him ; she did not expect as much. 
 His arm pained him considerably, and after a 
 while he became impatient. 
 
 " I am sick of it all," said he. " Can't you 
 tell me something? I get so tired of seeing 
 them all fussing about me. How this arm 
 does ache ! I cannot move without feeling 
 shockingly out of sorts. Put your hand on my 
 head. There ! that's it. What a speck of a 
 thing it is and yet so cool to my head ! Cor- 
 alie, you are a comfortable sort of little thing, 
 to sit by a cross fellow. They all keep telling 
 me I will be up soon, and be out soon ; and 
 they tire me so for it is all the same, however 
 they may talk."
 
 132 CORALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 " Cousin Ernest, if you lie quite still I do not 
 think your arm will pain you so severely ; and 
 if you try to think of something else, it will 
 not seem so bad." 
 
 " I cannot think ; you think for me." 
 
 " Shall I say a little hymn on trials we learnt 
 last Sunday ?" 
 
 "Yes, if you like." 
 
 " Trials must and will befall, 
 
 But with humble faith I see 
 Love inscribed upon them all 
 This is happiness to me." 
 
 " Umph ! but that does not make my arm 
 any better. How I wish I could walk across 
 the room once more ! It gives me the blues 
 shockingly to lie here so helpless, thinking 
 thinking." 
 
 " Perhaps you are not patient enough. Do 
 you ever say your prayers, Cousin Ernest ?" 
 
 The young man's face flushed, and he said, 
 as if to turn the conversation, " Do you ever 
 get tired of going about in that concern ?" 
 
 " Often ; but I have so many enjoyments
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAKITY. 133 
 
 here, that it is easier to bear than it was before 
 I came here. Mrs. Morton has been so good 
 to me, and helped me to be more patient. It 
 is bad some days : when I see Kose run about, 
 I feel as if I would give up every thing, rather 
 than be helpless ; then I take the verse Mrs. 
 Morton copied for me, and read it over ever 
 so often, and I get better after awhile. It is 
 a very good way: Mrs. Morton told me to 
 do it." 
 
 " What verse is it ?" 
 
 "I will give you my paper," said Coralie, 
 taking it from her pocket, not liking to say it 
 aloud, and laying it on the bed. "You can 
 read the first part ; that is not long." 
 
 Ernest glanced his eyes at the paper, and 
 saw the words, " Put thou thy trust in the 
 Lord." It was with difficulty that he read so 
 far, and even that made his head ache. 
 
 " If you would try Mrs. Morton's plan," said 
 Coralie, " I think you would like it." 
 
 " What odds does it make ? You cannot care 
 much." i 
 
 12
 
 134 CORALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 " Ah, but I do, Cousin Ernest, I care very 
 much ; I have wished so that you would get 
 well, so that you might go to church, and be a 
 good man." 
 
 " Am I such a bad man ?" 
 
 " No ; I do not say that but sometimes, 
 you know, you used to laugh at such things ; 
 and I know papa would say that was not right. 
 I felt sorry that I had not told you so before, 
 because because then you might have thought 
 more about it." 
 
 Ernest looked wonderingly at the small crea- 
 ture at his side, telling him this so courage- 
 ously. 
 
 "If you would only promise me, Cousin 
 Ernest," 
 
 " You're a queer little witch, and I'll promise 
 you one thing, never to tease either of you 
 again. That ought to satisfy you." Coralie 
 shook her head as she leaned back in her chair. 
 When Eosalie came in to see him that after- 
 noon, he told her that he had promised Coralie 
 that he would not tease them any more, and
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 135 
 
 asked her to come and see him oftener, which 
 Rosalie very readily agreed to, now that he 
 was getting so much better, and did not make 
 his eyes so stare when he looked at her. 
 
 November had drawn to a close when the 
 young man was able to walk around. And 
 about the time of his convalescence, Coralie 
 was taken ill with a sort of low fever. The 
 doctor said it was brought on in a great 
 measure by over-excitement. 
 
 Whatever was the cause, she was very sick. 
 Not one in the house but was grieved, she had 
 so won her way to their love. Pat would sit 
 on the stairs near her room the greater part of 
 the day, in the hope that she w T ould call upon 
 him to do something for her ; then walk away, 
 only to go and sit by the little carriage-chair, 
 think of his dear young lady, and cry at the 
 thought that she might never more ask him to 
 drive her about the place ; that he might never 
 more hear that dear kind voice that had first 
 called him into the house, the night that he 
 had crouched by the tree for shelter from the
 
 136 COKALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 storm, the dear voice that had never addressed 
 him but with kindness and gentleness. 
 
 Sarah and the cook tried their best to raise 
 his spirits, for they liked him so much that 
 they could not bear to see his merry face 
 clouded, and Pat would talk over and over 
 again to them of the goodness of his dear 
 young lady, and finish by a hearty cry without 
 even attempting to hide his emotion in a 
 whistle. 
 
 Through all the delirium of fever Coralie 
 knew her sister's voice, and had always a smile 
 for her, if her mind wandered the next minute ; 
 and poor little Rosalie kept up bravely, and 
 made strong efforts to control herself. 
 
 When Mrs. Morton, who staid there and 
 assisted Honor in nursing Coralie, would ad- 
 vise her to go out of the room and walk about, 
 else she would make herself ill, she would go 
 at once. It was the fear that if she were ill, 
 she could be of no use to her sister, that urged 
 ner to obedience. But for this motive they 
 could not have induced her to leave the bed-
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 137 
 
 side ; and this argument never failed. Even 
 Arthur could never draw her into a game with 
 him ; she would sit by him holding his hand, 
 oftentimes the tears stealing quietly down her 
 cheeks, and Arthur in his childish way would 
 strive to comfort her. 
 
 And Ernest, too how he missed his little 
 cousin, missed her bright smile and watchful 
 care for his comfort. He thought of her fear 
 for him in his sickness, and knew well, none 
 could know better, that there could be no fear 
 for her if death came. Only there was the sad, 
 sad thought, that he might have made her 
 young life so much happier. When away from 
 the room he could see her continually before 
 him, as she lay upon the bed, her cheeks 
 glowing with fever, often asleep, yet with her 
 hands clasped, repeating portions of hymns or 
 snatches of prayers, or calling to her papa; 
 thinking and talking as if she were in her own 
 home ; yet always speaking in affectionate 
 and gentle tones, and with so much love in her 
 heart for everybody, that it touched the young
 
 138 OOKA.LIE AKD ROSALIE, 
 
 man more than any thing could have done, and 
 made him wish, oh, how earnestly, that she 
 might get well, that he might show her how 
 he loved her. 
 
 She had been ill for about a fortnight, when 
 one day he was sitting near her. He often sat 
 and watched her now. Rosalie was on the 
 bed, close by her sister, watching too ; when 
 Coralie looked at her sister, and said, quite 
 distinctly 
 " Rose." 
 
 Rosalie's lip quivered. She took hold of 
 her hand. 
 
 " Rosie dear, I have been very sick." 
 " Very sick, Cora ; but you are going to get 
 well now, and stay with me." 
 
 " I would like to stay with you, dear." 
 " O Cora ! it has been so lonely !" 
 " Yes, it has been lonely enough," said Er- 
 nest. " We must get you well soon. "Wouldn't 
 you like to go about, and see how strangely 
 every thing looks see Wynn in a snow- 
 storm?"
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OP CHARITY. 139 
 
 " I would like to get well, if 1 may. Please, 
 Rosie, say the prayer for me. It all goes away 
 when I try to think of it." 
 
 Eosalie knelt by her. Coralie's eyes were 
 turned beseechingly on her cousin. 
 
 " Cousin Ernest, just this once, before " 
 
 He knelt down by Rosalie, and heard her 
 repeat the Lord's Prayer, with a strange feel- 
 ing of awe in his heart. 
 
 Coralie looked after him with a happy smile, 
 as he left the room.
 
 140 COBALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 CH-APTEK IX. 
 
 COBALIE got well slowly, but surely. Doc- 
 tor Conover, who had been sent for when she 
 was taken ill, said that if any child ought to 
 get well, Coralie was that one ; for she had 
 been carefully watched by the best nurses that 
 any one ever had. The kind old man was 
 himself delighted, for he had scarce expected 
 that she would recover; and he went about 
 the house, the day that he revealed the good 
 news, shaking hands with every one he met. 
 Seeing Pat by the door, as he was taking his 
 departure, he took hold of the boy's hands and 
 shook them with such heartiness that Pat felt 
 his arms ache up to the shoulders ; but he 
 thought that a mere trifle, and would have 
 borne it, no one knows how long, had not his 
 feelings of delight made him really burst out 
 a-crying.
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAEITY. 141 
 
 "Pshaw! you're a goose, Pat," said the 
 doctor, his own face getting so suspiciously 
 red that one might have thought he was on 
 the verge of following the boy's example, if he 
 had not immediately begun to blow his nose 
 very severely, and say that they kept the 
 house as hot as an oven. 
 
 " So I am that same, sir ; but I'm obliged to 
 you, doctor, for taking the good care of Miss 
 Cora." 
 
 " Nonsense !" Here the doctor applied his 
 pocket handkerchief to one portion of his face 
 again, and hurried away. 
 
 Pat saw Mr. Ernest at the top of the stairs, 
 as he turned around, and he began a little 
 whistle, accordingly, to hide his feelings ; but 
 it was a very ridiculous one, and Ernest said, 
 good naturedly 
 
 " No matter, Pat ; you'll be able to get it 
 off beautifully in a day or two." 
 
 He was able to get it off, though, that very 
 afternoon ; for he retired into the cellar, where 
 he knew he could not disturb his yonng lady,
 
 142 COBAUE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 and acquitted himself much to his own satis- 
 faction, as well as the cook's, who said to him, 
 when he emerged from his concealment 
 " That was something like, now." 
 Coralie had not thought Mrs. Morton so 
 really loved her, till she heard her say when 
 the doctor was telling her Coralie would get 
 well in a low voice of intense thankfulness, 
 as she leaned over her 
 
 " Thank God ! my precious child !" 
 As Coralie recovered, Mr. Somerville once 
 more started the subject of their return to 
 town. The winter had fairly set in, and it was 
 within a week of the holidays. It was after- 
 noon, and he was talking with his wife and 
 son of the most expeditious mode of getting 
 moved and settled in a week. The children 
 were at the parsonage the first visit they had 
 made there since Coralie's recovery. 
 
 Ernest listened to all his father had to say, 
 arose from his chair, walked to the window, 
 looked out, took a turn about the room and 
 came back to his seat again.
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAKITY. 143 
 
 I think, father," said he, " I would like to 
 stav at Wynn this winter, if my mother can 
 find it endurable here. It would be no harm 
 to try it, at any rate. I am somewhat disabled 
 yet, and cannot go out much." He looked 
 ruefully at his lame arm. 
 
 " Upon my word, you surprise me," said 
 Mr. Somerville, gazing with undisguised aston- 
 ishment at his son. 
 
 " Certainly, Ernest, if you wish it, we'll 
 stay ; though I warn you, it will be intolerably 
 stupid." 
 
 "Well, Charlotte, we can but try it, as 
 Ernest says ; besides, I am not sure but it 
 would be better for the children." 
 
 " That reminds me, Ernest," said Mrs. Som- 
 erville, glancing at the clock, " that you prom- 
 ised to go for the children, and it is about time 
 now." 
 
 Ernest had that moment been thinking of 
 the same thing ; and Thomas punctual as 
 usual just as Mrs, Somerville spoke, drove 
 up to the door.
 
 COKALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 Truly a marvellous change that the aunt, 
 who, of old, scarce thought of the little girls, 
 and often had seemed to forget that they were 
 in the house, should actually remember that 
 they were out and must be sent for ! 
 
 The truth was, Mrs. Somerville was so de- 
 votedly fond of her son, that any thing in 
 which he took pleasure was also her pleasure ; 
 and, seeing his altered manner to the children, 
 his growing affection for them, and his sadness 
 and anxiety when Coralie was ill, began to 
 notice and to talk to them more. And she 
 found them affectionate, and grateful for any 
 attention she might bestow. Nor could she 
 forget the many hours that Coralie had 
 watched by her son's bedside. She was fast 
 feeling a new pleasure Li being at home in 
 having them with her ; and a double pleasure 
 in her son's altered manner, and thoughtful 
 regard for her comfort. 
 
 So this afternoon she had actually noticed 
 the children's absence, and had been the first 
 to speak of their return. Begging Ernest to
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 145 
 
 put on his overcoat, and shawl also, for it 
 was cold, and not to keep the children too 
 late an admonition that Mr. Somerville sec- 
 onded she allowed him to depart. Pat was 
 upon the steps, jumping from one foot to the 
 other, and swinging his arms about him to 
 keep warm. 
 
 " Oh, there you are, Pat ! Well, I suppose 
 you would like to ride down to the par- 
 sonage." 
 
 Pat smiled beamingly at this, and gave a 
 succession of nods, as he said 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Jump up by Thomas, then." 
 
 Pat scarcely waited for permission before he 
 was in the seat, and away they went. Ernest 
 had never seen Wynn parsonage, the place he 
 had heard so much of from his young cousins. 
 It was cold and bleak to-day ; but the warm 
 light of a blazing fire within, and the group 
 seated around it which he could distinctly 
 see as he stopped at the gate was a very 
 cheerful contrast to the gloom without. But 
 
 13
 
 146 COKALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 he was not gazing so intently at the group, as 
 to prevent his seeing a girl standing by the 
 gate, who was beckoning to Pat. 
 
 " Who is that wants to speak to yon, Pat ?" 
 
 " It's a girl, sir." 
 
 " Well, I know that ; but who is it ?" 
 
 " Betsey Harper, sir. She's a girl that my 
 young ladies know. She attinds the Sunday- 
 school, and maybe has come to ask about Miss 
 Coralie." 
 
 Ernest called to her, and asked her what 
 she wanted. 
 
 " I came to see her. I've been a-looking in 
 the window at her Miss Coralie, I mean. I 
 ran all the way down here, for I knew she was 
 coming to-day, 'cause Mrs. Morton said so, 
 yesterday. I was so glad to know she was 
 well, that I wanted to look at her. It's very 
 late, but mother wouldn't let me off before. I 
 brought these, but they got smashed on the 
 way." And Betsey took out from under her 
 shawl two broken eggs, and gazed at them 
 with a doleful countenance. " They are fresh,
 
 THE LITTLE SISTEK8 OF CHABITY. 147 
 
 one yesterday and the other to-day ; and I had 
 to work hard to get 'em, too, 'cause, you see, 
 mother calculated to sell all the eggs. And 
 now they're broke !" 
 
 " That is unfortunate, indeed," said Ernest, 
 striving not to smile, as he looked at Betsey's 
 deplorable face. " How did you break them ?" 
 
 " Well you see, sir, it is so cold, that I put 
 'em under my shawl to keep 'em warm, and I 
 rather guess I gave 'em a squeeze while I was 
 running. And they ain't of any use now.'.' 
 
 " So you came all the way down here this 
 cold afternoon, my good girl, to look at Miss 
 Coralie. Come up to the house with me, and 
 you shall see her." 
 
 Mr. Morton had now noticed the arrival of 
 the carriage, and came out to welcome Ernest. 
 They took Betsey with them into the parlor, 
 where Ernest, after a hearty welcome from 
 Mrs. Morton and the children, related the 
 story of the eggs and Betsey's distress. It was 
 ample reward to Betsey for her loss, to see 
 Coralie's bright smile once more, and feel her
 
 148 COKALIE AND KO8ALIE, 
 
 hand in hers, and to be thanked so prettily for 
 her kindness. 
 
 She made great friends afterwards with Pat 
 in the kitchen, and was altogether in high 
 spirits, although she reminded Pat that he had 
 never yet kept his promise, of letting her draw 
 the wagon. Pat's promise that she should do 
 so next year, when the warm weather came 
 again, pacified her. 
 
 " When I heard that Miss Coralie was so 
 ill," said Betsey, " I nigh about cried my eyes 
 out ; and I used to come down here every day 
 to hear how she was, for I did not dare to go 
 near the house, I was so afraid to hear about it 
 there, and there was no one I knew to ask. I 
 used to think those days that my dream, I told 
 you once, was coming true, that Miss Coralie 
 was going off far away from us all" 
 
 The children in the parlor had a good frolic, 
 and Ernest was surprised to see Eosalie acting 
 as unlike as possible the quiet child she was at 
 home. Mrs. Morton's sweet motherly face, 
 and her thanks to him for bringing the chil-
 
 THE LITTLE SISTEBS OF CHARITY. 149 
 
 dren to her, and Arthur's delight, were very- 
 pleasant things to see and hear. 
 
 " You must let us see them often now, for 
 we will have them such a few days ; I under- 
 stand your father purposes leaving Wynn 
 within a week." 
 
 " That reminds me, Mrs. Morton," said Er- 
 nest, taking Coralie up as he spoke, to place 
 her in the carriage for they had now got on 
 their bonnets, and were ready to depart ; " my 
 father has concluded not to return to the city 
 this winter. We think of trying Wynn the re- 
 mainder of the season, and Master Arthur may 
 have Rosie for a playmate, and to help him 
 keep his Christmas too." 
 
 Arthur gave a shout that rang through the 
 house. 
 
 " O Cousin Ernest !" said both children, at 
 once. 
 
 "We are not to lose our children then, 
 Mary. That is pleasant news for us," said Mr. 
 Morton. 
 
 " It is, indeed, Mr. Somerville," replied Mrs.
 
 150 COKALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 Morton. "How shall I thank you? I had 
 not hoped for this." 
 
 " I know who did it. It was very kind of 
 you, Cousin Ernest," said Cora. 
 
 " What a child she is !" said Ernest, laugh- 
 ing, and hurrying very fast out to the carriage, 
 refusing the oft-repeated offer of Mr. Morton 
 to carry her, for that gentleman thought him 
 in danger of injuring his arm. Ernest assured 
 him there was nothing to fear, for that he had 
 become accustomed to carrying this trouble- 
 some child some days. 
 
 Coralie knew that he liked to take her him- 
 self, for at home now he had taken Honor's 
 place ; so she only smiled when he called her 
 a troublesome child. 
 
 They took Betsey with them, and when they 
 arrived at the house, Ernest requested Thomas 
 to take her to her home. She would have 
 been in a great state of pride at going home 
 " so grand," as she expressed it, only the satis- 
 faction of having sat by Miss Coralie the first 
 part of the ride far outweighed the other feeling.
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 151 
 
 As for little Arthur Morton, he was so de- 
 lighted at not losing his dear Rosie, that he 
 hardly waited for them to depart, before he 
 ran away to Margery with the. news, that 
 Cousin Rosie was going to stay all the rest of 
 the time, forever, with them, and help him 
 dress the church with Christmas greens. " I 
 think, Margery," said he, "that mamma's 
 prayer for the little orphans came right, don't 
 you?" 
 
 " How, old gentleman ?" 
 
 " Why, you see, instead of having no mother 
 at all, my mother is a mother to them, 'cause 
 I heard Rosie say so ; and there's that big tall 
 gentleman he is good to them, too ; and then 
 their uncle, too, he's so very kind " 
 
 " That he is a mother to them, too, I sup- 
 pose," said Margery, laughing. 
 
 " Now, Margery, if you are laughing at me, 
 I will go away. You make me cross." And 
 Arthur puckered up his lip, and moved away 
 from her. "No, I won't, either; I'll stay 
 here," said he.
 
 152 COKALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 " Dear heart ! it isn't going to be cross to 
 its own Margery. I will be as solemn as an 
 owl now I will, dear old man ; so go on." 
 
 " Well," said Arthur, recovering his good- 
 humor, " I only want to know if you don't 
 think it has all come right, through mamma's 
 prayer. I have said it every night, I think ; 
 and when Cousin Coralie was so very sick 
 the time that mamma thought she never 
 would get well you know, the time you cried 
 so in my curls well, I said it then, too ; so 
 you see, the prayer made it right, after all." 
 
 Margery said, "Yes, she thought it must 
 have been the prayer ;" and she lifted the boy 
 up on the table, and brought his face near her 
 own. 
 
 " But, Margery, I said it for you, too. You 
 know you're an orphan and I don't know 
 whether it has come right, but I suppose it 
 has." . 
 
 "Yes, dear, of course it has. Your dear 
 mamma has been a mother to me, and taught 
 me all the good I know the greater shame to
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 153 
 
 me, that does not know more. So my boy 
 does not forget his own Margery ; and I know 
 his prayers will be heard." 
 
 " Well, that one has come right, too," said 
 Arthur. " Now, Margery, put me down I 
 want to go away. Do you know the reason I 
 would not go away before ?" 
 
 Margery said " she had no idea what it was." 
 
 "Because Eosie told me, whenever I felt 
 cross with any persons, to stay by them till it 
 went over until I felt pleasant again. I be- 
 lieve I am pleasant now, and I would like to 
 go back to the parlor. If you would like to 
 squeeze my head, you had better do it now, 
 for I'm in a hurry." 
 
 Margery's opinion was, " that he was deci- 
 dedly good-humored at present ;" and, having 
 taken the curly head in her arms, and given 
 it such a kiss and squeeze as only Margery 
 ever gave, she put him down, and he trotted 
 off to the parlor.
 
 154 CORALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 WHAT an excitement there was at Wynn 
 during the next week, to be sure ! Cousin 
 Ernest suddenly became well enough to go to 
 town with his father, and returned, after two 
 days' absence, with innumerable parcels, of all 
 shapes and sizes. 
 
 " Coralie," said Rose, coming to her, after 
 having looked on with amazement at the won- 
 derful display on the table in the library, " it 
 is very good of Cousin Ernest to do so much 
 for us. I was glad when he came home to- 
 day. Is it not strange that we should like 
 him so much, after all ?" 
 
 " We are getting better acquainted, and are 
 all more used to each other. How much we 
 would miss him now !" 
 
 " Do you know, Cora, I think it is you that 
 have made Cousin Ernest so much nicer." 
 
 " O Rose ! what a funny idea !" 
 
 " Well, Cora," said Rosalie, with some de- 
 liberation, " I do think so. He was very sad
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 155 
 
 when you were sick; and, Cora, lie said one 
 day to me, that he would take care of me 
 always, and I know it was because he thought 
 so much of you." 
 
 " And of you, too, Rosie dear." 
 
 Rosalie was doubtful on this point ; but in 
 the end she allowed herself to be persuaded 
 that Coralie was right, and that it was for love 
 of them both. 
 
 Christmas eve, Mr. Somerville had the 
 presents all arranged on the dining-room 
 table; and then every one in the house was 
 called in, and the gifts were distributed. 
 There had not been such a Christmas keeping 
 in the house since Ernest's boyhood. There 
 were presents for every one for Honor, for 
 the cook, for Thomas, for Sarah, and for Pat 
 and each one found it was exactly what he or 
 she had been wishing for. Pat opened a par- 
 cel, and found a new suit of blue clothes, with 
 shining brass buttons ; and as he unfolded it, 
 he found a package, neatly tied, inside of it. 
 When he opened that, there was a beautiful
 
 156 COBALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 Bible, with his own name written in the front. 
 Such a delighted countenance as Pat's was, that 
 night ! Honor said, " a real Christmas face." 
 
 The children had dolls and toys, work-boxes 
 and books, sugar-plums in short, every thing 
 that Cousin Ernest could think of, he had 
 brought home for them. He had not forgotten 
 two Bibles, which Coralie had asked him to 
 bring her. They were for Betsey and Susan. 
 She had heard Betsey wishing for one of her 
 own once, and had wanted a long time to get 
 it for her. 
 
 There was a pile of toys for Arthur Morton, 
 that Pat was to carry to the parsonage as soon 
 as the present-seeing was over with. 
 
 In the exciting scene, Ernest was the first to 
 notice Coralie's look of fatigue, and advised 
 her to let him take her up-stairs. 
 
 " I thank you very much, Cousin Ernest, for 
 your beautiful presents ; but I want something 
 more. I wish you would promise me one 
 thing," said Coralie, when they were out of 
 the room.
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 157 
 
 " What, you little creature ?" 
 
 " To go to church to-morrow. Do, dear 
 Cousin Ernest. I wish it so very much !" 
 
 " You are a good little creature, Coralie, 
 and I suppose I cannot refuse you." 
 
 Coralie held her two arms tight about his 
 neck for an instant, and said 
 
 " That is a dear, kind Cousin Ernest." 
 
 14
 
 158 COEALIE AND KOBALIE, 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 COLD and clear was the Christinas morning 
 at Wynn. The little church had not, in Cora- 
 lie's recollection, been so well filled. The 
 children thought it more like the Christmas- 
 day at their own home, for their aunt and 
 uncle, as well as Ernest, accompanied them to 
 church, making it seem like one family ; very 
 different was it from the same day last year, 
 in the house in town. 
 
 Cousin Ernest had, the night before, induced 
 his father to promise that the children should 
 spend the day at Mr. Morton's ; for he knew 
 that the arrangement would be a great pleas- 
 ure to his little cousins. Mr. Somerville 
 thought that the children ought to stay at 
 home on Christmas-day, and Ernest had to do 
 a deal of coaxing before he could get his
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAKITY. 15-9 
 
 father to agree to his proposal ; and when he 
 gave his consent, it was only on condition that 
 they should conie home before dark, and spend 
 the evening with their own family. This was 
 indeed more than the children expected ; but 
 Ernest arranged it all so nicely, and said it 
 was to be so and that settled it. 
 
 After service, they went home with Arthur 
 and Mrs. Morton. Coralie had been some- 
 what excited, and Mrs. Morton advised her to 
 keep very quiet, and would not allow her to 
 go to prayers in the afternoon, telling her she 
 must lie on the sofa while they were gone, and 
 try to get a nap. Before going to church, 
 Mrs. Morton opened the door that led to the 
 kitchen from the dining-room, and told Coralie 
 that Mag was sitting there, and if she wanted 
 any thing, to call her. Coralie thought she 
 did not feel tired ; still it seemed pleasant to 
 lie there and watch the fire, and think how 
 delightful the day had been. She closed her 
 eyes, it seemed to her for only a few moments ; 
 but when she opened them, on hearing a slight
 
 160 COKALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 noise, she saw Mrs. Morton sitting in the room. 
 She had her bonnet off, and was much amused 
 at Coralie's astonishment at her having re- 
 turned so soon. 
 
 " I am inclined to think," she said, " you 
 have had the little nap I advised. Margery 
 says she looked hi three or four times. Arthur 
 urged his papa to take them for a walk : so I 
 came in the mean time to stay with you." 
 
 Coralie could not but laugh at herself about 
 her nap. 
 
 " I suppose I must have been asleep, Mrs. 
 Morton," she said, "but it seems such a few 
 minutes since you went away ! I was lying 
 here, thinking how pleasant it all was, and 
 how very nice it was to be here with you to- 
 day ; and then I shut my eyes, and tried to 
 fancy that I was in our own parlor. I rather 
 think it was at that time that I fell asleep. It 
 is so different from last Christmas-day the 
 one in town. There we felt so lonesome and 
 so sad, though Uncle Charles gave us plenty 
 of toys. I was afraid we never would be
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 161 
 
 happy; but it is all so nice now, and to be 
 near you ! It seemed so pleasant to be here 
 before I had that odd nap ; but when I opened 
 my eyes and saw you sitting by me, it was so 
 much pleasanter. It makes me feel so much 
 more comfortable ! Such a nice Christmas- 
 day!" 
 
 " And how are the old wishes, my lore ?" 
 asked Mrs. Morton. 
 
 " Well, I don't care to think about all that ; 
 even now, when I get very cross, I say the 
 words you gave me, and then if I think of them 
 the feeling goes over. And after all, if I had 
 not got sick we would not have come to Wynn, 
 and never would have known you, nor Arthur, 
 nor Mr. Morton. I think it is better than 
 walking. Oh, yes! very much better. Did 
 you see my Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Charles 
 at church, and Cousin Ernest, too ? So like 
 Christmas to see all at church. Aunty said it 
 was good to see all the family going." 
 
 Mrs. Morton had noticed it all, and expressed 
 
 her pleasure at the sight. Coralie was delighted 
 12
 
 162 COKALIE AND ROSALIE, 
 
 to hear that she was pleased, and did not forget 
 to tell about their goodness to her, of Cousin 
 Ernest's kindness to them both, and of his 
 promise to go to church that day. 
 
 " Still, dear Mrs. Morton, I do not know 
 what we should have done without you ; you 
 made it so much easier for me to bear things. 
 Now we do like home very much, because 
 Uncle Charles does so much for us, and every 
 one is so kind " 
 
 "That I fear my little girls are in some 
 danger now of being spoiled by indul- 
 gence." 
 
 " I had not thought of that," said Coralie. 
 
 " No, love, I dare say not ; but it is best to 
 be watchful." 
 
 Here Mr. Morton came in with the children. 
 He sat down by Coralie, and taking Arthur 
 on one knee and Rosalie on the other, begun 
 to tell about their walk, and before he got half 
 through, Cousin Ernest came for his cousins to 
 go home. Rosalie said the only fault she 
 found in the day was its shortness. Ernest
 
 THE LITTLE 8ISTEE8 OF CHARITY. 163 
 
 waited long enough for them to sing the 
 Christmas hymn 
 
 " While shepherds watch'd their flocks by night." 
 
 Mrs. Morton accompanied them on the piano 
 while they all sang. Arthur got his Prayer- 
 book, a Christmas present, and the first one he 
 ever had, and stood up by his papa. Ernest 
 thought it very pleasant to hear, and wished 
 he knew it well enough to join them. After- 
 wards Arthur was reminded by his mamma to 
 thank Mr. Somerville for the beautiful toys 
 which he had sent him, which he did very 
 prettily ; and he also said, " I wanted to play 
 with them to-day, but papa and mamma said 
 it was better to wait until to-morrow." 
 
 "Well, have you passed a happy day, 
 Cora ?" said Ernest, when he was carrying her 
 to her room that night. 
 
 " Yes ; so happy, Cousin Ernest, so very 
 happy." 
 
 ""Well, will it make you any happier if I 
 promise to go to church every Sunday ?" He 
 said this in a whisper.
 
 164: COEALIE AND BOSALIE, 
 
 " Oh ! will you ? It has all come right after 
 all O Cousin Ernest !" 
 
 He did not speak again just then, but as he 
 placed her in a chair in the room, there was 
 something of reverence in his manner towards 
 her as he kissed her on her forehead. Then he 
 leaned against the mantel-piece, and looking 
 down on her he said, "There is nothing else 
 you want to make you happy ? How about 
 walking would you not like to be able to 
 walk?" 
 
 " I think I would, but it is better than walk- 
 ing to have every thing so pleasant, Cousin 
 Ernest, and Mrs. Morton's text is the best cure 
 for that trouble." 
 
 "Just let me hear it before I go, little 
 cousin." 
 
 Put thou thy trust in the Lord, and be 
 doing good.' " 
 
 " O Coralie, little Cousin Coralie," said he, 
 looking down on her ; then hearing a step he 
 added, "Ah, there is Kosie. Now, Kosie, if 
 you will give me a kiss, and tell me that you
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHABITY. 165 
 
 have had a happy Christmas, I will go down 
 stairs. I know Honor is not far behind, for I 
 can hear her shaking the house with her heavy 
 tread upon the stairs." Rosalie willingly gave 
 the kiss, and as willingly said she had spent a 
 happy day. 
 
 It was so bright a night, the moon shining 
 so very clearly, that Honor proposed that they 
 should open the blinds, that they might enjoy 
 the beauty of the moonlight. Pat just put his 
 head in at the door to say good-night, and the 
 children asked him to come in to talk all about 
 the day at Mr. Morton's, and to hear Pat's 
 glowing account of their pleasant time, of the 
 beauty of the church, with its wreaths of green 
 about the walls, and to give Betsey's and 
 Susan's thanks to the young ladies for the 
 presents they had sent them. He was very 
 joyous. 
 
 " Indeed then, miss dear," he said, looking 
 about the room, " it seems the very same, the 
 night, now, as in the city where we used to sit 
 together, and Miss Cora used to tell about the
 
 166 COJRAME Am> KO8ALIE, 
 
 grand plans for doing things when she got big, 
 and about being a sister of charity." 
 
 "Ah, Pat, it is different, because I have con- 
 cluded not to think of it any more, because 
 Mrs. Morton showed me that it was not right 
 to be looking forward to that, but to be con- 
 tented with things as they are, trying to do 
 the little good we could around us. And I 
 don't know, I think I have tried to do so. I 
 hope I have. Rosie, dear, I suppose it is very 
 good to do that when we grow up, but it is 
 not right, Mrs. Morton thinks, to live so in the 
 future." 
 
 " Ay, my pets," said Honor. 
 
 " Indeed, miss dear, it's I that knows it, and 
 haven't both of ye'es been a doing for a poor, 
 ignorant fellow like myself, iver since your two 
 dear selves brought me out of the cold storm, 
 a poor wandering boy ? And you teached me 
 from your own dear lips all the good I iver 
 knew, till I came to this place, when the minis- 
 ter, thanks to his kindness, tried to teach such 
 a dunce as myself."
 
 THE LITTLE BISTERS OF CHAEITT. 167 
 
 " O Cora, you are a dear good girl, and we 
 are very happy now, but I cannot help wishing 
 you could walk a little." 
 
 "Tis better than walking. I told Mrs. 
 Morton so, to-day." 
 
 Kosalie cannot say that, but she adds, "I 
 will try to do better, Cora. We are with so 
 many kind friends, it is easier to be good now 
 that we are happy. Dear old aunty, we will 
 never forget our first friend ;" and Kosalie 
 climbed into her lap, and covered her wrinkled 
 face with kisses. 
 
 " Aunty knows that, Kosie," said her sister. 
 
 " O miss, dear, I can do nothing for ye'es, it 
 is too cold to drive the little carriage, and 
 so" 
 
 " You must not say that, Pat. Tou are 
 always kind. What should we have done 
 without you ?" 
 
 " O Miss Cora dear ! thank you for that 
 same, and I wish it was more." 
 
 Pat gives a little whistle to hide the tremble 
 in his voice, and tries very hard to look sol-
 
 168 CORALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 emn ; but he does not succeed at all, for his 
 eyes laugh so, that his face soon feels it and 
 goes into its sunshine, do what he will to keep 
 it back. After Pat had gone, they sat quite 
 still for awhile. Then Coralie asked Honor if 
 it is not nice to have all their happiness about 
 Christmas time. 
 
 The bright moon streams into the room, and 
 falls on Coralie as she sits with Rosie's head in 
 her lap. As she raises her head, Honor sees 
 the bright eyes softened with a quiet solemnity. 
 This, and the light shining on her head, for an 
 instant almost startle the old woman. She 
 murmurs a blessing on her darlings, and prays 
 that God will keep them always as now, un- 
 spotted from the world. 
 
 On returning to the parlor from his cousins' 
 room, Ernest found that his father and mother 
 were talking about the children. 
 
 " I wish she could run about as Rosie does," 
 said Mr. Somerville, and these were the first 
 words that he heard. " I cannot see how she 
 stands it ; though she doesn't stand it after all,
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHAKITY. 169 
 
 does she?" Here Mr. Somerville stopped 
 talking a moment to laugh at his own witti- 
 cism. " Doctor Conover thinks there is very 
 little hope of her recovery. Poor little patient 
 thing!" 
 
 " They are certainly odd little things ; but 
 here is Ernest, who seems to have taken a 
 fancy to them at last, even with all their 
 oddities," said Mrs. Somerville, looking at 
 her son. " I feel quite used to them now 
 myself." 
 
 " Odd as they are, Honor says no person 
 has better children than her babies ; and Pat 
 said to me to-day : ' Sure, sir, there is no nicer 
 young ladies in the United Country than my 
 young ladies.' They've fairly snuggled them- 
 selves into the minister's family, too," said Mr. 
 Somerville. " That Cora is the exact counter- 
 part of her father. He was a good fellow so 
 full of energy and earnestness." 
 
 " What a curious idea of theirs," said Mrs. 
 Somerville. " Honor was telling me about it 
 
 to-day. I believe she came in my room for 
 15
 
 170 COKALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 the express purpose of talking about them. 
 She says they have talked, ever since they 
 have been with us, about being sisters of 
 charity when they are grown up." 
 
 " Who ever heard of such a thing? What 
 an idea for the children to get in their heads!" 
 cried Mr. Somerville. 
 
 " It is my opinion, father, they will not have 
 to wait until they are women, for that has 
 already come to pass." 
 
 " Their father over again," added Mr. Som- 
 erville. " I don't know what you think of it, 
 Charlotte, but it seems queer to me to see 
 those children an example for all of us ; yes, 
 they certainly are sisters of charity, our little 
 Coralie and Kosalie !" 
 
 "That is true enough, father, in their 
 kindness and love for others. Mother dear, I 
 fear it is we that are the most odd, not to 
 understand them better ;" and Coralie's words, 
 " It will all come right at last," came into 
 Ernest's mind, as he arose and handed his 
 mother her candle.
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHABITY. -171 
 
 She looked at him earnestly. 
 
 " You are very fond of Coralie, Ernest." 
 
 " You are right about that, mother. How 
 can one know her, and not be fond of her, and 
 respect her, too ?" 
 
 " The feet is, I do too, and there is no use 
 in denying it," said Mr. Somerville, stoutly. 
 " 'Tis wonderful how fond one gets of chil- 
 dren, having them in the house. All I hope 
 is, that no one will spoil them. Ernest, 
 remember you are not quite as strong as a 
 lion yet, and must not sit up late. Good- 
 night, my boy." 
 
 Mrs. Morton is in Arthur's room, standing 
 by his bed. 
 
 " Good-night, dearest mamma," he says. 
 " Tell papa it is as bright as if it was day, and 
 I will have to say over the Christmas hymn 
 till I can get asleep. I hope Rosie and Cora 
 see the bright moon to-night.
 
 172 COBALIE AND KOSALIE, 
 
 " ' While shepherds watch' d their flocks by night, 
 
 All seated on the ground, 
 The angel of the Lord came down, 
 And glory shone around.' 
 
 " And glory shone around," repeated Arthur ; 
 " as the moon is shining now, mamma. 
 Please to tell Margery to look out at it." 
 
 Instead of drawing the curtains and lighting 
 the lamp, as she had at first intended, Mrs. 
 Morton, when she went down, stood by the 
 window, gazing upon the quiet scene without, 
 thinking of Arthur's innocent voice and of the 
 line he had just repeated to her. She did 
 not hear her husband's step, or notice that 
 he had entered the room, until he was by 
 her side. 
 
 " I have been up to Arthur," said he, " to 
 say good-night. He is lying very quietly he 
 says, 'putting himself to sleep with his 
 hymn.' " 
 
 " Yes, the dear boy ; he has been very good 
 to-day, and so pleased to have the little girls 
 here. I feel more like saying our two little 
 girls, for I consider them as part mine. I am
 
 THE LITTLE SISTERS OF CHARITY. 173 
 
 BO thankful for Coralie's recovery, the pa- 
 tient-tempered child !" 
 
 " Yet her illness has been a benefit to Rosa- 
 lie. It has taught her to rely more on herself, 
 and to conquer that timidity which was so 
 painful to witness," said Mr. Morton. " And 
 it has brought out, too, so much affection and 
 kindness from their relations, that one could 
 hardly wish it had been otherwise. We know 
 too, Mary dear, that it is all for the best, 
 whichever way it is. They have done so 
 much good in the class by their example, by 
 their attention to their lessons, and their wish 
 to do right. I pray God that I may strive to 
 do my duty towards our sweet little sisters ot 
 charity. When I "saw Betsey Harper with her 
 new Bible to day, and knew her wish and 
 determination to study it, and witnessed the 
 improvement in her ; and the boy Pat, with 
 his love and respect for his young ladies, and 
 their teaching him so well ; and when I saw, 
 too, for the first time, all the Somerville family 
 
 at church this morning, and Coralie sitting 
 15*
 
 174: 
 
 COKALIE AOT> KO8ALIE. 
 
 among them with her happy, earnest face 
 the promise came forcibly to my mind, ' They 
 that be wise shall shine as the brightness of 
 the firmament, and they that turn many to 
 righteousness as the stars forever and ever.' "
 
 
 
 date stamped below 
 
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 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
 
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