-that she was well, and would write soon again when she was more settled; but that she was at present in excellent health and spirits.

When this was accomplished, it was still but seven o'clock; and, prompted by the restlessness of misery, she determined herself to seek her way to the post. Rolling herself in a large shawl, she made a few inquiries of the servant, and soon discovered the required locality-too

soon.

She could not return yet, so she strolled till she lost her way, and at last found herself beside a large white-washed building, the windows of which showed a strong light within, and from the open doors of which came forth a strong, deep

tide of human voices, intoning with tolerable accuracy the well-known hymn

'There is a Land of pure delight.'

An impulse to enter, and taste even the vague companionship of a multitude of strangers even the shadowy sympathy of common prayer seized her. The seats were full, and many stood in the aisles. The warm atmosphere and volume of sound, the nameless, hushed excitement, drew her for a moment from herself. By degrees the gradual movement of those behind her pressed Marie forward; and when the hymn ceased, she was beside a small pew, occupied by a large woman, three little girls from five to ten, and a rough-looking, sandy-haired boy of twelve,

with a red comforter round his throat, who was always trying to choke down a cough.

Marie had stood a few seconds by the door, when the large woman suddenly turned a broad, kindly, and surprisinglyyouthful face towards her. She immediately stretched a stout arm across her little flock, thereby disarranging their hats considerably, and signed to the rough boy to open the door-indicating with a polite smile to Marie, that she might enter. The boy stepped out to accommodate her entrance, and she found herself next a blueeyed, flaxen-haired mite, who looked up, half-smiling, half-awed, in her face.

VOL. II.

E

CHAPTER IV.

A TALL, quaint man, with wild-looking hair, who had mounted the pulpit, upraised a bony hand, and now the congregation bent in prayer; it was a long, rambling oration, telling a great deal about sin and temptation and the devil, but asking for nothing intelligbly; and Marie's attention began to wander back to her own troubles.

Then they sang another hymn-a sweet old tune, 'Rock of Ages'-which affected poor Marie inexpressibly.

Then the sermon began-a quaint and

stirring discourse, which riveted Our heroine's attention; and in the preacher's eloquent description of how to win the entrance of that world where all sighing and sorrow is at end,' and all' tears wiped from off all faces,' she forgot the crowdall-save the blessed picture, till she was roused from the vision by the flaxen-head falling against her in more than the heaviness of sleep.

Marie looked down, the pretty little round face was deadly pale. She felt one of the small ungloved and not very clean hands, it was icy cold. She leant across, and whispered to the fat woman—

'I fear your little girl is not well-as I am next the door, I will lift her out.'

'Oh, dear! goodness gracious!' whis