As Nelly could not read, Miss Preston made her say these verses several times after her; and as she had a quick ear and a facility for learning by heart, she could soon repeat them.  That she could not understand them at present, her teacher knew; but she thought it something gained that the words at least should linger in her memory till their meaning should dawn upon her heart.  Then, telling Nelly she must take care of her pretty card, and try to learn to read it for herself, she bade her class an affectionate farewell, trusting that the Friend of whom she had been teaching them would care for them when she could not.

“I’ll learn the hymn, miss, and try to learn to read it, if anybody ’ll teach me,” said Nelly, her bright brown eyes sparkling through tears, for her warm Irish heart had been touched by the kind words and tones of her teacher, whom she expected never to see again.

Bessy Ford’s sunshiny face also looked unusually sorrowful, and Lucy Raymond’s trembling lip bespoke a deeper emotion, with difficulty repressed.

“I shall see you again, Lucy,” Miss Preston said, with a smile, as she affectionately detained her a moment, for Lucy had been invited to be present at her teacher’s marriage, at which her father was to officiate.  Lucy and Bessie walked away together, the former with her first experience of a “last time” weighing on her mind and spirits; and Nelly Connor slowly stole away among the trees toward the spot she called her “home.”

Bessie’s momentary sadness quickly vanished as she engaged in a brisk conversation with another girl about her own age, who was eager to gossip about Miss Preston’s approaching marriage, where she was going, and what she was to wear.  Lucy drew off from her companion as soon as Nancy Parker joined them, partly from a real desire of thinking quietly of her teacher’s parting words, partly in proud disdain of Bessie’s frivolity.  “How can she go on so,” she thought, “after what Miss Preston has been saying?” But she forgot that disdain is as far removed from the spirit of the loving and pitying Saviour as even the frivolity she despised.

“Come, Lucy, don’t be so stiff,” said Nancy as they approached the shady gate of the white house where Mr. Raymond lived; “can’t you tell us something about the wedding?  You’re going, aren’t you?”

Nancy’s pert, familiar tones grated upon Lucy’s ear with unusual harshness, and she replied, rather haughtily, that she knew scarcely anything about it.

“Oh, no doubt you think yourself very grand,” Nancy rejoined, “but I can find out all about it from my aunt, and no thanks to you.  Come on, Bessie.”  Bessie, somewhat ashamed of her companion, and instinctively conscious of Lucy’s disapproval, stopped at the gate to exchange a good-bye with her friend, who for the moment was not very cordial.

Thus Miss Preston and her class had separated, and future days alone could reveal what had become of the seed she had tried to sow.