Darrell, am I not blessed beyond blessing! I, who had been such an unkind, bad wife, to have been so mercifully dealt with! I, who never dared to hope I should ever see my poor ill-used husband again! If ever any body's prayers were heard, mine must have been, for it has pleased our blessed Lord to send him back to me once more, to prove if I am sincere in my desire to make up, as well as I can, for the past; and I may entirely thank you, dear lady, and that good, kind Mr. Coulson, for talking to me so much, and teaching me where to apply for strength and consolation in my distress. I can never thank you and him enough. Dear sir," she added, turning to my brother, "you are a young and lighthearted gentleman now, and I hope it may please God to bless you with a happy life; but, if ever trouble should come upon you, there is but one way in which you can be enabled to bear it, and that is by humble, faithful prayer; for you. know, sir, our Lord has promised that whatever we ask for, believing, we shall receive, and do but see how true it is. I never knew the comfort of prayer before, and I can see now how curious everything does work together for our good, for had I not suffered so much pain, both in body and mind, I never should have been brought to lay my sorrows down at the foot of the Cross. I trust

to be strengthened in doing my duty now to my poor dear George, for I love him better than I ever did before, and will try my best to make him good wife so long as it shall please God to spare my life."

We stayed talking with them some time, and I felt sure that what Maud had been saying in her simple, truthful way, had made an impression on my dear Cuthbert-softened as his heart had been by the exciting events of the previous day; and when he went on up the parish to visit his distant patients, and I turned my steps towards home, I found my thoughts winging their way to Heaven in pious aspirations, that the light of life might be shed into my beloved brother's heart.

CHAPTER XII.

THE WALK.

AFTER her first walk, protected by her respirator, Lotty had gone out nearly every favourable day, and there was no doubt but that air and exercise were producing their usual beneficial effects on her health. The Graves were frequently visited by all of us, and new flowers were blooming around them. "How very pretty Our Graves' are looking," she said one day to me as we stood leaning over them. "Maggie darling, when I die. you must let me be laid just here, close to our precious Ellen; will you remember?"

"My darling, why do you talk of such things," exclaimed Cuthbert, who was with us. "I wont have you let such fancies come into your naughty head; dying and being buried, indeed! when you ought to be thinking of quite another matter! you must just come out of this dismal place directly, let me tell you," and he took her arm under his own and drew her away. We were en route for

a walk, and had to take our way through the church-yard.

"But, dear Cuthbert," said Lotty, "why should I not speak about death? It does not make me melancholy now in the least. I think everyone who dies young, is only another flower transplanted to the garden of Eden. Think of the happiness of being again with those dear ones who have gone before us, and of watching over those who will so soon follow. Oh dear, no! Cuthbert,

it is not in the least sad to me."

Cuthbert sighed, and said, as if thinking aloud, Ah, if one could be certain of all that!''

"And are you not certain of it, Cuthbert?" she answered with surprise, "Oh don't say that! Surely, surely, you do not doubt. Oh, no, no, No one can doubt of a life to come!"

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'Well, perhaps, it is all true," he rejoined thoughtfully. "I would indeed desire to realize an Eternity with you, my Lotty."

"You must, you do realize it," she said. "I could never have believed anyone could have had the slightest doubt on so vitally important a subject. Oh, Maggie, what can he mean?"

"Dear child," said Cuthbert, more gravely than he usually spoke, "don't go worrying yourself about me. I must think-I must study

these things more than I have yet done, I suppose; but-but-"

"Good morning-good morning!" screamed a shrill voice behind us, and I heartily wished her a hundred miles off just then. "Here am I, you see, all out of breath with making haste to overtake you."

She

It was Miss Penrudduck, one of the busiest little women in the whole parish, with a bundle of tracts in one hand, and her constant companion (a green umbrella of the olden time) in the other. I have not named her before, nor several other neighbours with whom we had become acquainted, because they were of no importance to my story. And even now I merely mention this good lady en passant, as she happened to come by so very inopportunely, and cut short the thread of our discourse. shook hands with us all round, and then said, "Yes, here I am as usual, trotting up the parish with a few tracts Mr. Coulson gave me for distribution. Here's one for Mrs. Tubbs at the beer-shop, a nice little temperance tract on the advantages of taking the pledge; and here's one for Tom Marlin, the sweep, called 'Cleanliness next to Godliness;' and this I shall leave with the carrier, on the duty of stopping at home and taking care of a family-all nice and