“What sort of gimcracks must one have for supper?  I have invited a friend with whom I have business relations of some importance, to tea, and I wish to know what is usual,” said Mr. Stillinghast, addressing Helen, after breakfast.

“I don’t know, sir,” she said, looking down, with the half-frightened expression her face always wore when he addressed her; “people generally have cake, and other nice things.”

“Very well, make a supper to suit yourself,” said Mr. Stillinghast, tossing her a five dollar note.

“We ought to have silver forks, sir,” she suggested.

“Silver devils! well, wait—­” He went up to his chamber, and returned with a package, which he laid carefully on the table, saying, “There they are—­be careful with them,” and went out without noticing May even by a look, who felt the neglect more keenly than any trial he had ever caused her.  To find that Helen, who hated as much as she feared him—­whose life was so aimless and useless—­preferred before her, caused sharp and bitter emotions.  The flagrant injustice of his treatment galled, as much as his unmerited contempt humiliated her.  For a little while her feelings bore her along on their rough but silent torrent, while the hot winds of evil heated her veins with fire, and caused a hot flush to burn on either cheek.  Ho! how exulted the tempter now; he had long laid in wait for her soul, and now, while it oscillated and wavered, how triumphant he was; how defiantly he lifted his lurid brow towards the Almighty, while he spread out the snare for that tempted, trembling one! but let us listen—­for angels guard her, and watch, with sorrowful eyes, the dread conflict, while they pray for heavenly strength to sustain her—­let us listen to the words which go up from that heart, so stilly and whispered that they scarcely reach our ears, while in Heaven they ring out clear, and sweet, and sorrowful,—­“Sweet Jesus! merciful Jesus! suffering, calumniated dying Jesus, pity me—­rescue me,” she murmured, folding her cold hands together.  Far away fled the powers of darkness, and left only the sweetness and peace of that potent deliverer, JESUS, in her soul.  Once more the angels of her life looked up rejoicing, and spread their wings of light about her way. Without, there had been an exterior calm; but it was like that gray, sad stillness, which mantles the storm.  Now there was sunshine as well as calm.

“What shall I do, May?” said Helen, who had been reading the paper.

“We must try and make a nice supper, as my uncle wishes, Helen.  I will make waffles and tea-biscuits, if you wish it, and we can order cake from Delaro’s.  I think this, with chipped ham, tea, and coffee, will be sufficient.”

“Thank you, May.  I am so ignorant; if you will only do it all for me, I shall be so obliged to you.  You know I shall have to dress, and it takes me so long to arrange my hair gracefully.  I wish, sometimes, that I had none—­it is so troublesome,” said the selfish girl.