loves all men, even though they are sinners, and is ready to give them strength to resist temptation and conquer sin, if they will diligently seek the aid of his Holy Spirit—in Bible words, to make them "whiter than snow." These are the true themes of Sunday-school teaching; the one end to be aimed at is so to bring up the children in the "nurture and admonition of the Lord," as that when they come to years of discretion they shall gladly confess him as their Master, and become noble, intelligent, active Christian men and women. Lacking this, all outside things are, as the apostle says, "sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal."

The only positive harm which Miss Etta did to her class was to foster in some of the girls a great admiration for dress and an ardent desire to imitate their teacher in this respect. Since the days of Eve a taste for dress has always been an inherent part of a girl's constitution, and is apt to become one of her greatest temptations, especially if she be a poor girl, as were most of these, and must procure cheap imitations of finery; or, if even these are beyond their reach, indulge in discontented repinings, which are really rebellion against God.

Squantown Sunday-school was a very pleasant one. Quite unlike the usual oblong wooden building, which in many country places serves for a secular school during the week and a Sunday-school on Sunday, it was a pretty gothic brick building, handsomely fitted up with folding-seats, a reed organ, and an uncommonly good library. A nice carpet was upon the floor, and pretty illuminated texts painted upon the walls; the windows were narrow and pointed, with little diamond-shaped panes, and when opened gave a near view of the minister's garden full of bright-hued flowers, and a more distant one of softly outlined blue mountains, whose tops, capped in summer with snowy clouds and in winter with veritable snow, formed apt illustrations to thoughtful teachers of the "mountains that stand round about Jerusalem," and symbolized the protecting love and care of the Lord for his people.

The beautiful Sunday-school building was largely due to the efforts of Mr. James, who had his father's well-filled purse to draw from; and he had interested himself in getting the scholars together, as well as in introducing among them all modern improvements. He was greatly interested in his class of big boys, over whom his influence was most beneficial. Nearly all of them had already confessed Christ, and were mostly manly Christians, exercising a good influence upon the other boys in the mill or bindery, to which they, as well as nearly all the members of the school, belonged.

Miss Eunice Mountjoy was also engaged in the Sunday-school, having charge of the Bible-class, which contained all the oldest scholars, some of them quite young men and women. She was a very different sort of person from her youngest sister. Fully twelve years her senior, she looked and seemed much older than she really was, and no one had for years thought of calling her a "girl," although now she was only twenty-nine. When she was quite a girl her mother had died, leaving her with the care of all her sisters and her brother, to whom she had, indeed, done a mother's part. Her chief aim in life had always been to "do all to the glory of God," and to her Bible-class she gave her most earnest efforts and her warmest prayers. Her influence was great at home, in the mill, and throughout the town of Squantown, though, as far as possible, she obeyed the scripture injunction not to let her left hand know what her right hand was doing. She always invited the female members of her class to take tea with her every Wednesday night; the boys and young men being expected to come afterward, remain a little while, and then escort their sisters, cousins, and friends home. These little meetings were very pleasant; sometimes pretty fancy-work—to be sold for the benefit of the class missionary fund—was done; sometimes clothes were cut out and made for some of the poorer factory children, or some fatherless baby, while Miss Eunice read aloud some interesting book; sometimes when the topics suggested by last Sunday's lesson had proved too voluminous for the time of the session, they were taken up and discussed on Wednesday; sometimes difficult points in next week's lesson were anticipated. In this way the teacher became really acquainted with the members of her class, their dispositions, temptations, and interests; she gained their confidence, and was often able to advise and assist them in many ways, and they learned to look upon her as a friend to whom they might apply in time of need. And, as a secondary benefit, the girls learned a great deal in the way of cutting out, basting, and other mysteries of needlework calculated to prove very useful to them in their future capacity of wives and mothers.

Eunice had often wished that the same plan could be pursued in the other elder classes; but their teachers, who were mostly employed in some capacity in the mill, could hardly spare the time, and Etta certainly was not fitted for the work. As an experiment, however, on the first Sunday after Katie entered the mill she came over to her sister's class and invited all the girls, or as many as chose to do so, to join hers on Wednesday afternoon next, saying she had something of interest and importance to talk about. As the invitation was one that seemed to place those to whom it was given in the rank of grown-up girls, it was at once gladly accepted, especially as most of the girls had never been inside of Mr. Mountjoy's house and grounds, and would gladly see the luxury of which they had heard so much.

There was a great deal of talk after the close of the session about the invitation and the proposed meeting, and some curiosity was expressed as to the "important thing" Miss Eunice was to talk about. One or two of the girls said they were sorry they had accepted the invitation; they didn't like "to have religion poked at them"; they guessed they wouldn't go. Before the appointed day, however, curiosity got the better of these fainthearted ones, and not a girl of Etta's class was wanting when the time arrived.

CHAPTER V.

THE TEA-PARTY.

At exactly six o'clock some twenty young girls of various ages assembled at "the great house," as Mr. Mountjoy's grand mansion was called in the village. They could not come earlier, as most of them worked in the mill, which they could not leave till five or half-past five; consequently they all arrived at about the same time. They were received with perfect politeness by the servant, who opened the door and ushered them, as she would have done any other visitors, into the spare-room, prettily furnished in blue and white satin, with white lace hangings and silver ornaments. Here they laid aside their hats, and taking their little work-baskets, descended to the great drawing-room, whose splendors considerably surprised the younger girls; the older ones were used to it. At the door Miss Eunice with Etta, the latter arrayed in a wonderful costume, met and received their guests, and after lingering for a while among the paintings, engravings, nicknacks, etc., led them to an inner room, the windows of which overlooked the garden in summer, and a door from which opened into a greenhouse, now full of blooming flowers.

This was the family sitting-room, generally the abode of Miss Eunice, for Etta was too much of a butterfly to stay anywhere, and Rhoda, the middle sister, now about twenty, was an artist, entirely devoted to painting, spending her days and a great part of her nights in her studio, and caring nothing for any of the interests connected with our story. It was luxuriously furnished, more with a view to comfort than to show, and as the girls sank into the easy sofas or into the deep stuffed chairs, or else made themselves comfortable upon low seats and divans,