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CHAPTER XXX.

"Home is the sphere of harmony and peace,
The spot where angels find a resting place,
When, bearing blessings, they descend to earth."


Shall we describe the angel-child Lilly, whose symmetrical features and quiet ways were the exact counterpart of her father's, or shall we leave her to the creation of the fancy, after giving the brief outlines? Fair as a lily her straight soft brown hair was of the richest hue in which nature asserted her independence, as that of both her parents curled. Mrs. Claremont christened her the Mayflower. Kate declared her the "most perfect incantation of the saint she ever knew," and Milly abandoned her old daily occupation of analysing men and things, to devote her attention exclusively to this new revelation of the divine genius. It had never been her fortune to live with a baby before, and her warm affections soon twined around her with all the strength of a nature which had expanded without any particular object of love. This sweet companionship with a child formed one of the most blessed experiences of her life. A priceless blessing to this sorrow-stricken world is ever the presence of childhood. When bowed with age or rent with anguish, cheerily sounds the innocent little laugh coming from a soul bubbling over with its own merriment. And the bounding little footstep and the roguish little hand, alike ruffling to the