THE GRANDMOTHER'S SHOE.
had her know for anything. I thought I should never be happy again.'
'And, after all,' I added, 'there was no harm done.'
'No harm!' said sister, quietly, 'what dost thou mean?'
'Why, you know,' said I, carelessly, 'the grandmother was not there.'
'Thou heedless child,' she answered, with that look of pity and regret, 'art thou really so much afraid of my grandmother, and dost thou wholly forget the ear that did listen to thy talking, and the eye that was upon thee all the time?'
We both looked about us, at the curtain, at the places where we had been sitting, and in sister's face, with a sudden sense of the presence and nearness of God, that I believe we had never felt before. When she added, 'What wouldst thou have done if, when I drew back the curtain, thou hadst seen the Redeemer standing there? Shouldst thou have said then there is no harm done? We neither of us answered a word, so completely were we surprised into awe by the aptness of this word in season.
'Years have passed since then,' said my friend, 'but I believe the effects of that gentle rebuke have not altogether passed away with them; it made a greater impression upon us than even the grandmother's anger could have done, however great that might have been.'
When 'sister' had left us, we went to one of the open casements, and I well remember the sensation of repose with which we congratulated one another on
