preoccupied with self as to lose an opportunity to serve others.

Two of the ladies, who had casually formed Miss Burton's acquaintance
at dinner, still lingered in the door-way to talk with her, wondering
in the mean time why they remained so long, and meaning to break
away every moment, but the expression of the young lady's eyes was
so pleasant, and her manner, more than anything she said, so like
spring sunshine that they were still standing in the door-way when
the rumble and rush of the carriage was heard. The others did not
notice these sounds, but Miss Burton, whose eyes had been following
the child with an amused interest, suddenly broke off in the midst
of a sentence, listened a second, then swiftly springing down the
steps, darted towards the child.

Quick as she had been it seemed as if she would be too late, for,
with cries of horror, the startled ladies on the piazza saw the
horses coming so rapidly that it appeared that both the maiden and
the child must be trampled under their feet. And so they would
have been, had Miss Burton sought to snatch up the child and return,
but with rare presence of mind she carried the child across the
carriage track to its farther side, thus making the most of the
impetus with which she had rushed to the rescue.

The exclamations of the ladies drew many eyes to the scene, and
all held their breath as the horses dashed past, the driver vainly
endeavoring to pull them up in time. Having passed, even Stanton
was compelled to admit that the "school-ma'am" appeared to very
great advantage as she stood panting, and with heightened color,
holding in her arms the laughing child that seemed to think that
the whole excitement was created for its amusement. She was about