upon

his face, and asked, quickly, "if anything were the matter?"

"Look up at the name, mother," replied Frank, in a voice of most unusual excitement; you are only looking at the windows. Look up at the name."

66

And his mother looked up higher, and read in large letters over the shop-windows the names— "Johnson and Elston."

Mr. Johnson, knowing that Frank would pass that way,-guessing that he would point out his shop to his mother, had had the name thus prepared to greet them both on their way to their new home. Mrs. Elston's proud delight, could he have seen her as she stood gazing at it, would have been a sufficient reward for his kind thought. It seemed wonderful. She could scarcely realise it. Her little Frank, who had begun life so humbly, as errand-boy to Squire Darby's gardener, promoted to be the owner of such a shop as that before which she now stood! Her widow's heart was beating so fast with many conflicting feelings, that she leant on Frank's arm for support,-many feelings, indeed, were there,― pride in her boy-joy at his having attained so good a position-relief from all anxiety for the present-a kind of longing for her husband's sympathy in a joy, the depth of which no earthly

friend but he could have understood; but prevailing through all, and above all thoughts, was the one deep feeling of intense thankfulness to Him who gives us, not only more than we have deserved, but even more than we have dared to desire. He it was who had caused the widow's heart thus to sing for joy, and with all her soul she blessed Him for His great goodness.

That night Frank could not sleep. Hour after hour he lay awake, thinking over all that had been, over all that now was, and over all that yet might be. And one feeling seemed to rise above every other, and present itself constantly before his mind. That feeling had been there for years. The time had been when it was clearly his duty to keep it down, and turn his mind resolutely from dwelling upon the thoughts he loved, to employ it often in many occupations and cares which he loved not,—always hoping that the day might yet come when the Friend to whom he had committed his way might see fit to bring it to pass. He hoped that this day might be dawning now. All his hopes, all his earnest longings, had been mingled with as earnest prayers. If it was the will of this all-wise Friend, in whom he had learned so confidingly to trust, the desire of his heart might be given to him. With this feeling in his mind, Frank met his mother the

next morning at the breakfast-table, in their bright little room; and when the meal was ended, he said to her, "Mother, if you will give me your blessing, I will go over to Fairlegh this afternoon, and speak a word to Mr. Chester."

"JOHN," said Mrs. Eggar to her husband, that same afternoon, as the schoolmaster entered his house," have you seen Frank?”

Mr. Eggar said, "No, he had not."

His wife continued: "He passed the house two hours ago, and never even looked this way; the first time he ever passed our door without coming in for these last three years. And when he has not been near us, too, for such a time! It's very strange! He must be gone up to the Park! And such a time as he has been there, too! Depend upon it, John, there's something going on. I should not wonder a bit if he had gone to see Mr. Chester, and ask him for his girl."

"Jumping at conclusions, as usual,” said Mr.

Eggar, quietly, as he took his book.

"Better not

be making up your mind so fast about things which, perhaps, may never come to pass after all. Go on with your work, like a sensible woman, and you may be quite sure, if there is anything to hear about Frank, we shall be the first people to hear it.”

But Mr. Eggar sat down in the window which looked towards Fairlegh; and though he held his book in his hand, he kept his eyes pretty steadily fixed upon the road which led from the Park. And when, about half-an-hour later, he saw the figure of a young man coming towards the house, he called out, "Here's Frank! Now we shall hear what made him pass us by in that way."

But Frank did not give any one time to ask him any questions, as he came quickly in, and with a brighter smile on his face than his friends had ever yet seen there, shook hands, first with the schoolmaster, and then with his wife, and bade them wish him joy, for he was the happiest fellow living. Ruth Chester had promised to be his wife, and her father had said he would give her to him with pleasure. Frank could not stay. He must go home and tell his mother; but he could not pass the house without letting his friends know of his happiness. Their pleasure seemed well-nigh equal to his own. Mrs. Eggar, particularly, scarcely knew how to express her gratification. "It had been the wish