She had been like an angel of innocence about his path from early years.  He knew her to be as pure as the mountain snow-flake.  And yet that sister’s influence over him was sneered at by one who had just uttered a foul-mouthed slander upon her whole sex.  The scales fell instantly from his eyes.  He saw the dangerous ground upon, which he stood; while the character of his associates appeared in a new light.  They were on a road that he did not wish to travel.  There were serpents concealed amid the flowers that sprung along their path, and he shuddered as he thought of their poisonous fangs.  Quick as a flash of light, these things passed through his mind, and caused him to act with instant resolution.  Rising from the chair he had already taken, he retired, without a word, from the room.  A sneering laugh followed him, but he either heard it not or gave it no heed.

The book which Blanche resumed after she had heard her brother go out, soon ceased to interest her.  She was too much troubled about him to be able to fix her mind on any thing else.  His singularly disturbed state, and the fact of his having left the house at that late hour, caused her to feel great uneasiness.  This was beginning to excite her imagination, and to cause her to fancy many reasons for his strange conduct, none of which were calculated in any degree to allay the anxiety she felt.  Anxiety was fast verging upon serious alarm, when she heard the sound of footsteps approaching the house.  She listened breathlessly.  Surely it was the sound of Henry’s footsteps!  Yes!  Yes!  It was indeed her brother.  The tears gushed from her eyes as she heard him enter below and pass up to his chamber.  He was safe from harm, and for this her heart lifted itself up in fervent thankfulness!  How near he had been to falling, that pure-minded maiden never knew, nor how it had been her image and the remembrance of her parting kiss that had saved him in the moment of his greatest danger.  Happy he who is blest with such a sister!  And happier still, if her innocence be suffered to overshadow him in the hours of temptation!

THE HOME OF TASTE.

There are three words, in the utterance of which more power over the feelings is gained than in the utterance of any other words in the language.  These are “Mother,” “Home,” and “Heaven.”  Each appeals to a different emotion—­each bears influence over the heart from the cradle to the grave.—­And just in the degree that this influence is active, are man’s best interests secured for time and eternity.

Only of “home” do we here intend to speak; and, in particular, as to the influence of the home of taste.  We hear much, in these days, of enlarging the sphere of woman’s social duties; as if, in the sphere of home, nothing remained to be done, and she must either fold her hands in idleness, or step forth to engage with man in life’s sterner conflicts.  But it is not true that our homes are as they might be, if their presiding genius fully comprehended all that was needed to make home what the word implies.  Among those in poorer circumstances, this is especially so.  They are too apt to regard matters of taste as mere superfluities; to speak lightly of order, neatness, and ornament; to think time and money spent on such things as useless.  But this is a serious mistake, involving, often, the most lamentable consequences.