Grace, who was very quick-witted, soon detected that it was not without a purpose that Mary avoided the love songs.or sentimental English ballads they would have had her sing; and with that curiosity to understand the motives and feelings of others which girls of her age are very apt to evince, she said laughingly as her sister finished singing,

"Now, Mary, you shall not move till you have told me why it is that you so much prefer sacred music.'

"I will tell you," said Mary, "provided you will not think I am condemning others in describing my own taste, and provided also you quite understand that I do look upon it as a matter of taste, and not of principlethere is no harm in any sort of music where the words are not in themselves objectionable; but so far as my own personal feeling goes, I think that as music is the most heavenly and beautiful of all the talents GOD has given to man, and the one above all others which has power when rightly directed to fill the soul with high and holy thoughts, and draw us as it were to the centre of all melody in heaven, it is somewhat of a degradation to so glorious a gift to use it only as a means of winning earthly admiration and gratifying secret vanity."

66

Well," said Eva, "one feels that to be true, but I do not think any one but yourself would ever dream of acting upon it."

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Ah, that is just how it is," said Mary half sadly; "it is the world's principle to conform in theory to all that is good and right, and to ignore it wholly in practice.”

"If you do wish yourself to keep to such a rule, Mary, you may be very thankful that Grace's voice is coming out so strong and sweet! for mamma would certainly never have let you limit your singing to a few sacred things at home, if she were not really rather glad to keep you in the background in case you should eclipse.

any

Hush, darling!" exclaimed Mary hastily placing her hand on her sister's lips; "you must not speak so of dear mamma; I should be perfectly ready to sing to her in style of music she might like best, but as she has no preference, so far as I am concerned it is all right and exactly as I could wish, so let us talk now of something else."

The day passed in unwearied efforts to amuse and interest her sisters without a moment spent on herself, but when at last they went to bed, Mary turned gladly to the solitude of her own room. That quiet little room, the simplest and dullest in the house, was next to the Church, the scene of her greatest happiness; not because it contained any means of amusement or occupation beyond a few devotional books, but because there she could pass from all the frivolity of this mortal world into scenes of blessedness and glory such as tongue could never utter. She had but to kneel down in the place she had set apart for her devotions, and earth and the things thereof passed away, and the portals of the mystic Sion, the Church beyond the grave, were opened to let her longing soul pass through, and soon she was with the innumerable company of angels and the spirits of the just made perfect, who trod this vale of misery upon the track left by their Master's bleeding Feet, and the martyrs, who by a little torment won eternal rest: and then hastening onward through them all, holy and lovely as they were, she could fly in spirit to the One Object of their common worship and sink in adoring love before the throne of Him Who was dead and is alive, and ever lifts up His holy Hands in intercession for the sons of men. And in such hours as these how poor and worthless seemed this earth's best gifts to her; how light and easy its worst cares! Then life and death changed places; life, which at her age seems often so bright and desirable, appeared but as a veil hiding from her the light and loveliness of her true Home; and death, the gloomy and repulsive, was to her but the gateway, radiant as the golden sunset, leading to the Blissful Presence of Him Whom her soul loved and longed for beyond all words. Oh joy which the world. can neither give nor take away! happy the soul who has thee in possession!

CHAPTER II.

THE next morning Mary went to church alone as usual, before her sisters had made their appearance.

The day had dawned beautiful and bright after the

rain, and when the service was over daily visit to Cecil's grave, which she with the sweetest flowers. She had, this care; poor Willie, "silly Willie, on his apparently meaningless existen young life that had been given for his the dust, never failed to bring all the collect from the village gardens to ado place where he would sit for hours afternoons angrily driving away any of approach, excepting only Mary herse have some strange instinct which c this green bed, for when questioned 1 who it was that slept therein, and M that perhaps the angels who watched cent had whispered to his soul in its di hension of one who had been his pres their dear companion and so made hi minister of their own tender sympathy

Willie was seated as usual at the when Mary came to it, and he watch interest as she removed the faded wr them with those she had brought. S the side of the grave, almost at Willie this way, every now and then looking smile at the poor idiot as he laughed in when she heard a voice behind her excl "Oh, Mary, how can you ?"

Looking round she saw Grace and E her-tempted by the bright morning t to look for her and had traced her to th with some surprise at the reproachful Grace had addressed her, but Eva aver Willie, said impatiently, "Do come a she followed them silently till they churchyard gate, when she said quietly, "What is it that annoys you, dear E Grace, always the most impetuous, an "Surely it is enough to annoy any on ing so complacently on that wretched cause of our poor Cecil's death. I wo dure the sight of him."

"I cannot myself understand how you even bear to go to the grave in the way you do," said Eva; "it seems to me almost unfeeling to stand so composedly over the spot where his dead body so bright and beautiful only three months ago is mouldering in the dust; just as if you saw him sleeping in his bed."

"But surely, Eva," said Mary quietly, though she was much pained, "surely it is more the part of a deep true love, such as we all bore our dear brother, to cling to everything connected with him, and try by any little token to show our constant remembrance, than to seek rather to keep ourselves out of sight of all that could recall him."

"We are not likely to forget him," exclaimed Grace, “but his sudden death just at that bright happy time of his life was so sad and dreadful that we feel it impossible to dwell upon it or to endure anything that recalls it; it seems as if the only way to go through life without him were to throw ourselves into new thoughts and occupations, and avoid every association with the joys we have lost."

"Oh, what a dreary creed," said Mary.

"And as for Silly Willie," continued Grace with increasing vehemence, "it is all I can do not to hate him.” "Hush, my darling, I cannot let you say that."

"I dare say it is wrong; but only remember that useless creature cost our noble brother his precious life. I cannot feel otherwise, Mary, when I look at him and think that Cecil might have lived to be a great man some day but for him."

"And I," said Mary, lifting up her eyes, "can never see him without thanking GOD with all my heart for allowing him to be the unconscious instrument of Cecil's most blessed glorious lot."

"Oh, Mary, who but yourself would say such a thing? Cecil is happy, no doubt, but he might have been just as sure of heaven at the end of a long splendid life as now,"

"Ah, dear Eva," said Mary with a sad smile, "it is not so easy to reach that blessed heavenly home as you suppose. Our sinless LORD Himself went not up to glory till first He suffered pain, and He taught us thereby that

of

none may hope to reach His rest except by the way sorrow wherein He walked. Think of these awful words, 'if the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear?'"

Grace and Eva were both silent; and after a moment Mary went on.

"I should have felt thankful for any one who departed this life in His faith and fear, for the Church tells us, you know, that they are taken out of the miseries of this sinful world to be with Him in joy and felicity; but in Cecil's case, though you do not know it, there was indeed a special cause for gratitude and rejoicing.'

"A special cause, Mary? oh, what do you mean ?" asked Grace eagerly.

"Do tell us," said Eva.

"I have often wished to tell you all the circumstances of dear Cecil's death and probation," said Mary, "but you have been so little with me that I never found the opportunity; and to tell the truth, I was unwilling to speak of what I felt to be most sacred till I could feel sure you would appreciate and understand all that was so blessed and happy in his early and sudden death."

"Oh, we will try to understand it," exclaimed Grace, "if you will only tell us, and I am certain already that you must have some good reason for feeling so differently from any one else about him, for I know you loved him well, Mary."

"GOD only knows how much," she answered softly, while tears fell from her eyes: "I will tell you all, my dearest sisters; I should like you to have the same rest and happiness in thinking of him that I have; but not ; it must be at some quiet time and place, when nothing will disturb us."

now;

"This evening, when we go out into the grounds in the twilight," exclaimed Grace; "it is always so still and peaceful when the pale stars are just beginning to shine out."

"By all means," said Mary, and they separated as they reached the house.