superfluous feelings: but notwithstanding all this there is, _I am
sure_, a warm, bright spot in his heart, or he never would have taken
you and me from the cold charities of the world, to shelter and care
for us. Now, dear, you _must_ endeavor to fall in with his humor."

"And if I should happen to please him?" inquired Helen, sweeping back
the golden curls from her forehead and cheeks.

"You will be happy in the consciousness of duties well done," replied
May, looking with her full, earnest eyes, in Helen's face. "It is a
bad thing, dear, to stir up bitterness and strife in a soul which is
not moored in the faith and love of God; as it is a good work to keep
it, as far as we can, from giving further offence to heaven by
provoking its evil instincts, and inciting it, as it were, to fresh
rebellions. But I am sure, dear Helen, you will endeavor to do right."

"Yes," said Helen, slowly, "it will be the best policy; but, May
Brooke, I feel as if I am in a panther's den, or, better still, it's
like Beauty and the Beast, only, instead of an enchanted lover, I have
an excessively cross and impracticable old uncle to be amiable to.
Does he give you enough to eat?"

"Have I a starved look?" asked May, laughing.

"No; I confess you look in tolerably good plight. Do you ever see
company?"

"Not often. My uncle's habits are those of a recluse. When he comes
home from the bustle of the city, it would be a great annoyance to have
company around him: in _fact_, I do not care for it, and, I dare say,