The girl did arrive that day. She sprang into the house like a loud sunbeam—loud for a sunbeam, not for a young woman of sixteen. She was small and bright and cheerful, with large, sparkling black eyes. Her face was rather small, her hair a dead brown, almost black. Her figure was, if not essentially graceful yet, thoroughly symmetrical, and her head, hands, and feet were all small and well-shaped. She had as little shyness as forwardness, being at once fearless and modest, gentle and merry, noiseless and swift—a pleasure to eyes, nerves, and mind. Her sudden appearance in rosebud print, to wait upon the Raymounts the next morning at breakfast, startled them all with a sweet surprise. Every time she left the room talk about her broke out all over again, and Hester’s information about her was a welcome addition to their astonishment. A more striking contrast than that between her and her two aunts could hardly have been found in the whole town. She was like a star between two gray clouds of twilight. But she had not so much caused her own cheerfulness as her poor aunts had caused their misery. She so lived because she was so made. She was a joy to others as well as to herself, but as yet she had no merit in her own peace or its rippling gladness. So strong was the life in her that, although she cried often over the loss of her mother at night, she was fresh as a daisy in the morning, opening like that to the sun of life, ready not merely to give smile for smile but to give smile for frown.

In a word, she had one of those lovely natures that need but to recognize the eternal to fly straight to it. But, on the other hand, such natures are in general very hard to awaken to a recognition of that unseen eternal. They assent to every good thing, but for a long time seem unaware of the need of a perfect Father. To have their minds opened to the truth, they must suffer like other mortals less amiable. Suffering alone can develop in such any spiritual insight, or cause them to care that there should be a live God caring about them.

She was soon a favourite with every one of the family. Mrs. Raymount often talked to her. And on her side, Amy Amber was so much drawn to Hester that she never lost an opportunity to wait on her, and never once missed going to her room to see if she wanted anything, last of all before she went to bed.

The only one of the family that professed not to think much of her was Cornelius. Even Vavasor, who soon became a frequent caller, if he chanced to say some admiring word about the pretty creature after she had just flitted from the room, would only draw from his friend a grunt and a half sneer. Yet now and then he might have been caught looking at her, and would sometimes, in spite of himself, smile on her sudden appearance.