SCHOOL DAYS AT ST. MARY'S.

 Lydia and Emily were silent, each feeling too much
to speak.
 I can't think what makes people ready," said
Susan; I'm sure I'm not worse than many girls, not
so bad as some, and yet the thought of death is fear-
ful, and I am always dreadfully frightened in a thunder
storm, or when the train stops, and I think there's an
accident; oh, and often besides !"
 Susan, dear," said the teacher, laying her hand
softly on the girl's shoulder as she stooped over her
box; "there is something else wanted besides being
no worse than others; 'being no worse than others'
is surely only very poor service to give such a loving
Saviour as ours. Our whole lives, our whole energies
and affections, all should be devoted to Him; and if we
truly love Him death is only going home-going to a
friend."
 "1 Yes, I know," said Susan; and I often think
it very mean and shabby only to be good when there's
nothing else to do-to give only the worst to God; but
somehow I don't know; it seems very hard, there is
so much to give up."
 It isn't so very hard when you once begin," said
Lydia shyly, and it makes life a good deal easier."
 Miss Wilmot looked surprised. Indeed it does,
Lydia; it would be unbearable without. It is always
hard to be misunderstood, but we can bear it when we
think how much Christ went through for us; and one
learns to feel it a privilege to walk in his steps, even
ever so feebly. It would be dreadful if one had no
Friend in Heaven to turn to."
 "Ah, I'm afraid we often plague you," said
Emily.
 Well, sometimes it's hard, but then I know you
don't always think, and it might be worse; and I