“When Herbert Philipson was twelve years of age he was sent off to school, and Cecilia was confided to the care of a governess, who, under the direction of Mrs. Foster, was to undertake her education.  But neither music nor drawing, needlework, grammars nor exercises, could make little Cecilia forget her absent companion.  Absence, that cools older friendships, had a contrary effect on her heart; the months, weeks, days, and hours that were to elapse before Herbert returned for the holidays, were counted and recounted.  When that period—­so anxiously desired—­at length arrived, there was no end of rejoicing:  she told Herbert of all the little boys and little girls she had clothed and fed, of the old people she had relieved, of the tears she had shed over tales of woe and misery, how she had carried every week a little basket covered with a white napkin to widow Robson, how often she had gone into the damp and dismal cottage of the dying miner, and how happy she always made his wife and their nine pitiful looking children.”

“That is a way of conquering human hearts,” remarked Mrs. Becker, “often more effective than those referred to the other day.”

“Once, when Herbert was at home for the holidays, he accompanied Cecilia on her charitable visits, and was greatly surprised to find that blessings were showered upon his own head wherever they went; people, whom he had never seen before, insisted upon his being their benefactor.  This he could not make out.  At last, by an accident, he discovered the secret—­Cecilia had been distributing her gifts in his name!  He remonstrated warmly against this, declaring that he had no wish to be praised and blessed for doing things that he had no hand in.  Finding that his protestations were of no avail, he determined, on the eve of his returning to school, to have his revenge.”

“He did not buy Cecilia a doll, did he?” inquired Jack.

“No; he collected all the eatables, clothing, blankets, and money he could obtain; went amongst the poorest of the cottages, and distributed the whole in Cecilia’s name.”

“Ah,” remarked Mrs. Becker, “it is a pity we could not all remain at the age of these children, with the same purity, the same innocence, and the same freshness of sensation; the world would then be a veritable Paradise.”

“For some years this state of things continued, the affection between the young people strengthened as they grew older, the occasional holiday time was always the happiest of their lives.  Herbert, in due course, was transferred from school to college, where he obtained a degree, and rapidly verged into manhood.  Cecilia from the girl at length bloomed into the young lady.  A day was finally fixed when they were to be bound together by the holy ties of the church; everything was prepared for their union, when the commercial world was startled by the announcement that Philipson was a ruined man.  A ship in which he had embarked a valuable freight had been wrecked, and an agent to whom he had entrusted a large sum of money had suddenly disappeared.”