mourner's w

o hide his g

for confess

to bear a

n that dark

waiting

and gently

s-will not

Christ

d, gravel terrace. The smoothly shaved lawn in front of the house was shaded by two magnificent elms; a quaint old garden full of sweet-smelling, old-fashioned flowers lay below the terrace, and a curious yew-tree walk bordered one side. This was Mr. Ferrers's favorite walk, where he pondered over the subject for his Sunday's sermons. It was no difficulty for him to find his way down the straight alley, An old walnut-tree at the end with a broad, circular seat and a lit

lies of the old Fathers and the abstract philosophical treatises in which Mr. Ferrers's soul delighted mus

ong, hardy diet provided for it; she knew Mr. Ferrers's favorite authors, and would

a little Greek, and was able to read the Greek Testament to Raby-she was indeed "his eyes," as he fondly termed her, and those who listened to the eloquent sermons of the blind vicar of Sandycliffe li

her hand and a volume of Herbert's poems-for wearied by his labors, Raby often preferred some sacred poetry or interesting biography to be

there was another seat, where on cold autumn mornings or mild winter days one could sit and feel the mild, chastened sunshine stealing round one with temperate warmth; a row of bee-hives stood

he looked more than usually tired, she thought; deep lines furrowed his broad foreh

m whence can a man satisfy these men with bread here in the wilderness"-the very text as she knew that Raby had selected for his evenin

f fear! yet,

not in thy

urn to seek th

sickening th

d Saviour

or balm e'en now

us," muttered Raby, in a tone so hu

at verse was beautiful; it reminded me of our child at once"-but as he hid his face in his hands with

was full, and she w

rget her! when every night in the twilight I see him fold his hands as though in prayer, and

rga

new well what that action signified; in another moment he had drawn out a letter and had placed it in Margaret's outstretched palm. Ever since this letter had reached them about two mo

nd the letter itself was evidently writ

ur dear face again-that I can hardly endure it; there are times when the restlessness is so unendurable that I can not sit still and bear it-when I feel

ve ever overshadowed your happiness. You and Raby are troubling your k

kindly natures-natures as true as yours, Margaret-gentle, high-souled women, who, like the charitable traveler in the Bi

d-they asked no questions; I was young, friendle

nd is only a child, have high, cultured natures. The mother-forgive me, Margaret, for I dare not mention her name-teaches in a school close by us, and her daughter is also a daily governess. I am thankful to say that their recommendations have procured

little by this bitter penance and mortification, till even I can feel I have suffered and repented enough, I will come back and look on your dear face again. And this for you, Margaret; know that in the

yst

d away, Raby turned his

copy of your answer; I think I would like to hear that once

t need is there of penance and expiation when all has been forgiven? The evil spirit that tormented our child has been cast out, and you are clothed afresh and in your right mind now; come home, for dear Raby's sake, and be his darling as of old! Do you know how he longs for you? Daily he asks 'Any news of her, Margaret?' and last night, as I was passing his study door, he called me in and bade me give you this message-'Tell my child, Margaret,' he said, 'that every night I bless her and fall asleep breathing her name;

rga

two months ago, Madge,

we must hav

know that the woman you love has made herself an exile from all she holds dear. Margaret, I was wron

it for the

of her youth; it did not seem right or honorable. Let her go into the world a little

the result of such an ordeal; Crystal would never have loved a

k what, M

of Mona-that she mis

avens! M

so strangely when you were talking to her; and once she asked me if you admired fair women, and if you did

f her sick fancies, poor unhappy child-as though my heart had ever swerved from her

know Crystal, her heart has

little clew-one faint hint-and I would keep my word and seek for her; but, as you say, we must have patience a little longer," and Raby straightened himself and

py ignorance of what the next day may bring forth. As Margaret looked out on the moonlight that evening, she little

t afternoon, when Sir Wilfred Redmond was announce

; and yet, why did he come alone-why was not Hugh with him? Hugh's father was almost a stranger to her. He was a man of re

blushing still more rosily under his penetrating glance. "I am

er as he spoke, and Margaret noticed that he seemed rather nervous. "My business is with you,

first keen glance at her, he had averted his eyes. He looked older than he had done yesterday, and there was a harassed expression in his face. "It is rather strange," he went on, "that Hugh should have left me in ignorance all these months, but that"-as Margaret seemed

indignant color rose to her fa

our reason,

t reason," returned the old ma

ot unde

w I see you; I am quite sure that you are all he represents you to be; that in all respects you are fitted to be the wife of a wealth

rgaret, with noble frankness; "I am promi

ened insensibly. "My dear, I know how my boy loves you, how his whole heart is centered on you. I can do nothing with him-he will not listen to

t's face grew pale, and for the f

peak plainly and tell me what you mean? Why do you ask me to save Hugh-my Hugh-when I am ready

et-I may call you Margaret, for I knew you as a child-it is no fault of y

her white brows as though she were trying to recall that childish past, "that she was very ill-she had to go away for a long time

You are not like her; she was dark, but very beautiful. Yes, she was ill, with that deadly hereditary ill

lips refused to finish the sentence. Sir Wil

o marry me. She was beautiful, and so many loved her-your father and I among the number. No