poor helpless earthly nature craves this mercy. I pray, as did our blessed Lord, that the bitter cup may be permitted to pass from me.' Nevertheless, not my will, but God's be done."

She could speak no more, but every word was written on my memory as with a pen of fire. Harry, in an agony of grief, had fled from the room, and my heart-broken brother, with his ardent impulsive nature, was leaning on the bed, with his head buried between his hands, sobbing like a child, yet, in all this misery, one strange consolation still remained to us in poor Mrs. Wilson's unconsciousness of the full extent of it, from the indistinctness with which, latterly, all outward things seemed to impress her mind. Even now she was sitting with half-closed eyes, as though our melancholy conversation was scarcely intelligible to her.

Lotty spoke again presently. "Hark," she said, in the same low tones in which she had been previously speaking, "do you not hear the dear old church bells calling, calling, calling. Oh! Cuthbert, they must never more call to you in vain. They are calling to you in our Father's name to bring all your cares and sorrows to his feet; go dearest, lest it be too late and the door be shut.""

In a broken and tremulous voice, as he pressed

his lips on her pale forehead, I heard him softly whisper the words, " My love, the time has come, I go." In faith and hope, sorrowfully, but with prayerful hearts, we entered the portals of the old ivy-clad church, and if ever a striken soul poured fourth its wailing to the ear of a pitying God, my brother's did that day. My darling, noble, broken-hearted brother, through much tribulation, the time at length had come!

Mr. Coulson, whatever may have been our former silly prejudices against his manner, gave us a most impressive sermon on the uncertainty of earthly happiness, which bore so much upon the present state of our feelings, that it conveyed conviction in every word, but poor Harry's grief was literally uncontrolable.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE DEATH-BED.

FROM this time a very perceptible change took place in our poor invalid, she would be for several consecutive days unable to be removed from her bed, but, as she grew weaker, we were only too thankful to see that she suffered less and less bodily pain, so that she was enabled to enjoy the society of those so dear to her, and to listen, without distress, to our voices, when engaged in reading to her.

It was extraordinary how long she lingered in this pitable state, hovering, as it were, between life and death, but the arm of the Lord was supporting her until her mission should be accomplished, and then I knew he would take her to himself.

"Cuthbert," said Lotty, one evening as she sat leaning her head on her mother's bosom, who was seated on the low chair close beside her, twining her fond arms about her, "One thing

more you must do for your little Lotty, she is going to make you her last request."

"My own love," he cried, coming round to the back of the sofa and leaning over it, looking down upon her sweet pale countenance with his deep earnest eyes, "I have asked Mr. Coulson to come and administer the Sacrament to me tomorrow evening and I should wish, my Cuthbert, that we receive it together-All my precious ones together with me; it will be for the first and last time."

Cuthbert laid his arms on the back of the sofa and hid his face upon them, he trembled but did not speak.

"You will not deny my last request, my own?"

"Oh, my child," he mourned, "do not ask it; I am not worthy! I dare not!"

"Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest,'" she whispered, "does not our Lord bid us come, and dare we refuse his invitation? Cannot his blood cleanse us from all sin? Is His arm shortened that he cannot save? Oh, fear nothing, my own Cuthbert. I know how sorry you are for the light and careless way you once used to think and speak of holy things. Oh, yes; I am quite sure you are very sorry now, are you not?"

N

"Oh, Lotty, Lotty, to my very very heart's

"I would give worlds

Oh, if it had not been

core!" he cried bitterly. to wash out the past! for all this wretchedness, I tremble to think what I might have become."

“Then, dearest, we cannot but acknowledge the hand of God in this affliction. How all things work together for good to those that love Him!"

So sweetly she talked on to him, that she soothed his fears away, and led him faithfully to trust in the death and merits of a pitying Redeemer. Sweet angel she was, hovering on the confines of Eternity, only lingering here till her blessed work was done.

The next evening, we all knelt around the dying Lotty's bed (from which she had not strength that day to be lifted), to partake with her of the Holy Sacrament. With smothered tears and sobs, lifting our hearts in our great sorrow to Him who alone could sustain them, and praying that He would smooth for our beloved sufferer her passage to the grave. It was dear Harry's first Communion, that sacred rite partaken of by the death bed of his only surviving and almost idolized sister, and I have reason to believe that it shed a holy and sustaining influence over the whole of his after life.