spot, where the dream of life might not be disturbed, and where I might patiently await the revealments of time. 'Wherever my steps are directed, it will not be chance that points the way,' I silently decided: 'there is no such thing as chance.'

Nurse Tophan, on being consulted, eagerly proposed our taking up a temporary abode, at least, in her native village, which she had not visited since her youth, and yearned to behold again, retaining a lively recollection of its sylvan beauties. It was a great distance off, but that formed no impediment; once on our journey, it mattered not whither we went. Besides, an impulse swayed me which I attempted not to combat against-an impulse irresistible; and, our preparations being completed, we travelled down to Westmoreland, in compliance with Nurse Topham's suggestion, and the mysterious inner promptings which forbade me to turn a deaf ear to her advice. I had no friends to consult, no adieus to make. Clare was highly offended at my declining to reside at Arundel, 'where I could be so useful,' she said. Slumbering pride revolted at this; and, bidding a last farewell to the home where so many years had sleepily glided on, and accompanied by faithful nurse, I addressed myself to the pilgrimage before me. I found the village of Elvinside quite as beautiful and picturesque in point of situation, as nurse described it. It is a scattered hamlet, on all sides surrounded by wooded hills, valleys, streams, and pasture-lands, and the nearest town is some miles distant. We succeeded in obtaining accommodation in a pleasant farm-house, which nurse found belonged to a cousin of her own-the only individual remaining with whom she could claim affinity at Elvinside. Removing from the small markettown to this new home, it scarcely seemed to me like a strange place, or else I was easily made at home; but it was a long time before I could fully realise the fact of being at perfect liberty, and beyond control. From the windows of the little parlour we commanded a delightful and extensive prospect, and a church spire rose up in bold relief against the sky, from a rising ground whereon it was situated, apparently about a mile distant. One evening soon after our arrival at Elvinside, when the west wind blew, and the setting sun assumed that mellow and melancholy tinge peculiar to early autumn

that season 'when hearts are full of bygone story'-the soft slow chime of the sweetest silvery bells I had ever heard or fancied, stole on my enraptured ear, floating on the western breeze, 'nearer still, and nearer pealing,' then dying away, then chiming again. Holding up my finger to impress silence on nurse, I involuntarily gazed on the tapering church spire, almost expecting to behold a seraphic vision, so solemn and myste riously sweet was the music of those old church bells.

At length nurse, unable to keep silence any longer, whispered, 'Them is the bells of the Hill-side Church, Miss Winny, as we always hear at Elvinside, when the west wind blows; and many's the time I used to ask mother, when I was a little child, when the west wind would blow, and the beautiful music come? Ah, I remember them! they're just the same; they seem to speak, that they do, of those that be dead and gone.' And nurse sobbed aloud.

'They speak a welcome, dear nurse,' I replied, when there is no human voice to do so; they welcome us to Elvinside. Listen, let us listen!'

We sat in silence by the open casement; the pale stars came one by one in the sky; the soft sad music rose and fellrose and fell-and gradually night shades gathered, and all was still. Seldom, I believe, had nurse preserved silence for so long a period; but she had travelled to memory's golden land, and tears coursed down her furrowed cheeks.

Every morning, the first object I beheld was the church spire on the hill-side; it fascinated and enthralled me; nor could I withdraw my gaze from it. Will you inquire if there is daily service, nurse,' I said, 'and the pastor's name? I should like to walk there very much.'

'Old Mr Danvers was the parson,' responded nurse; 'but in course he isn't now, Miss Winny. But I'll go and ask John Topham all about it, though he and his missus don't go to the Hill-side Church, I know; its a'most too far for their old legs.'

Nurse was absent for such an unaccountable time, that I became afraid she was ill; and as I was about to go in search of her, she made her appearance. But no sooner had I seen her face, than I became aware something unusual had occurred, for she looked quite scared and miserable.

'What is the matter, nurse?' I demanded. 'What has detained you?'

'Oh, Miss Winny, don't ask me, pray don't. It'll only harass and surprise your feelings, as it has mine; though John Topham didn't do it intentionally, honest man, I must say. He's as sorry hisself as anything, though he don't belong to the Hill-side congregation. Oh! Miss Winny, prepare yourself, afore you ask me.'

What am I to prepare myself for, nurse?' I replied, with forced calmness; for prophetic and wild foreboding sickened me, and I turned faint and giddy.

For strange news, bad news, Miss Winny. Oh, what a funny life this is, to be sure! Little did I think, when you and I were a-listening to those old bells, that he was a-listening too, dear soul! and that he won't listen much longer to any bells on earth; for the bells of the celestial city, as we read of in the 'Pilgrim's Progress,' will ring out for him, be sure, when he enters the gates of gold, which he will do full soon,'

I

'Nurse Topham, do not trifle with me, but speak out distinctly, at once.' know that these words were uttered by my lips; but my voice sounded hollow and broken, and terrible anticipations of what I was to hear at that moment fell like an ice-bolt on my heart.

'Oh, Miss Winny, I'm sure you'll be so sorry, for I remember how kind he was to you at the Priory-everybody saw that, and what pains he took with you; and how you used to walk together in that queer old garden, where the good men's bones lay a-mouldering. If he hadn't been such a saint, folks would have talked. But Mr Avenel did what he liked, nobody dared make free with his name, bless it.'

Not one word could I frame. Nurse met my eye, and cried, 'Good lack, Miss Winny, my dear Miss Winny, you're ill. I'm a-frightening of you to death, so I'll tell you what it is, or you'll fancy something worse.' Something worse-that was impossible!

'Only think, Miss Winny, the twitter it threw me into,' continued nurse, 'when, on asking John Topham who was the parson of the Hill-side Church now, he said, "Why, it's a real good dear gentleman, but we much afear that he's in a bad way, for a friend of his does duty for him this ever so long-a Mr Howardand he's a good gentleman too." But, said I, John, what is the real parson's name?

Quoth John, "a name that mony a poor creetur will remember in these parts for mony a day to come, with respect and love. He's a-worn hisself out," continued John Topham, "with study and fasting, and going about among the sick and miserable." Service is every day in the Hill-side Church, Miss Winny, and three times of Sundays, and also on festivals, o' course, just as it used to be at the Priory Chapel. And John says, that Mr Avenel denies hisself a'most necessaries, to give alms, and to adorn the church, which has all been new done up at his expense, and is most sumptuous and beautiful to behold. But now he is so weak, he can't leave the house, and Mr Howard nurses him; but Mr Howard has so much to do besides, that John says he is afear'd Mr Avenel is left too much alone-like; though he don't care for company, at the same time he is thankful and kind to all. But Miss Winny, Miss Winny, speak to me, and don't look so;. I know'd you'd be as sorry as could be to hear this."

Poor old nurse! her words entered my ears, not one fell to the ground; they entered, and pierced me to the soul. 'So this is why my footsteps were directed here,' I remember distinctly articulating more than once. Then a horror of great darkness fell upon me.

CHAPTER X.

To

On recovering, every energy was concentrated to gain speech with Mr Howard, whom I perfectly recollected as an esteemed friend of Mark Avenel's. This was not difficult of accomplishment; there was something beyond this which I had to achieve to see Mark Avenel - to see him again in a dying state-perhaps even to forget woman's nature, and to ask him why he had changed towards me? This was my first impulse. let him behold me whom he had lovedaltered and greyheaded; to hear the mystery explained which had divided us -to tell him of my trusting faith in his wisdom and goodness. What had pride to do with such love as mine? What infringement of woman's delicacy could there be, in seeking an interview with the dying saint-the beloved of a lifetime? I had never felt angered or revengeful, because he had forsaken me; I had bowed my heart in conviction of unworthiness to become his. Then wherefore should I be so near, and not tell him how I came thither-how the

Yes, indeed I will,' he replied, kindly; 'and I am sure the sight of an old friend will afford him comfort. He cannot come to see you, Miss Wardour; perhaps you will not mind calling at the Parsonage to-morrow morning, when I will apprize and prepare him for your visit.'

How cool and careless appeared these words; yet what else could Mr Howard say? what did he know of me? I murmured an apprehension of agitation being not desirable for an invalid.

'Agitation?' responded Mr Howard 'doubtless agitation would not be well. But I do not apprehend that the mere converse with a former friend can produce that effect. I am sure he will be pleased to see you, Miss Wardour.'

Mr Howard was a worthy, and not an unfeeling man; but to me he appeared hard as iron! To-morrow morning! I dreaded the intolerable suspense and anguish of the intervening time. Perhaps Mark Avenel might not care to admit me; perhaps he did not wish his latter moments to be disturbed by my presence. That evening, however, Mr Howard personally became the bearer of a message from his friend; and my anxious fears lest I might be denied admittance were dissipated by his communication. Mr Avenel had evinced much agitation and excitement on hearing my name. 'Indeed,' continued Mr Howard, 'were it not for his excessive debility and feverish prostration of strength, Miss Wardour, which may account for delirious fancies, I should be at a loss to know why he expressed so much surprise, repeating, "Winifred Wardour, Winifred Wardour-that cannot be her name now; there must be some mistake." But when I assured Avenel that I had it from your own lips, he gazed in my face with a strange, wild expression, which alarmed me for his intellects. He asked to see you, but fainting succeeded the exertion of speaking and essaying to move. We persuaded him to retire; and,

in compliance with his earnest wish, I am here, Miss Wardour, to tell you from our dear departing friend, his hope that not another day will pass without your meeting each other, to bid farewell on earth, for Avenel is conscicus his end rapidly draws nigh.'

Mr Howard's looks conveyed more than his words, and he regarded me with scrutinising attention; I merely bowed my head, and clasped my hands over a violently throbbing heart. He noticed the movement, and said, with tenderness, 'Forgive me, if I have been too abrupt; and may our pitying Heavenly Father strengthen and support you beneath this trial.'

All night long-and oh, what a dreary, interminable night it seemed!—I lay tossing about on my bed, yearning for morning light, and haunted by the singular exclamation which Mr Howard had recorded as his friend's respecting my name. Why could it not be my name now? In a few hours I should behold his dearest face again, clasp his hands, and, kneeling beside him, pray God to take me too. Silently, secretly, thus I would pray, for I meant to be very composed, and quiet, and friendly; the inward agony I endured should not gain the mastery-should not betray me, or agitate him.

And all this came to pass. Silently I knelt beside the shadow; for he was a shadow, most sublimated, most spiritual, his dark_eyes_burning like two lamps. Silently I knelt down beside him, and took his wasted, transparent hands in mine; nay, more-I kissed them, but no tears came to my relief. He did not speak, but continued gazing on me; and at length I gasped, 'Mr Avenel, dear friend and pastor, I come to receive your blessing.'

In broken sentences he replied, 'Do I indeed address you as Miss Wardour? I believed that name was changed long ago.'

'Changed, Mr Avenel? What do you mean?' I exclaimed, with unfeigned surprise. Under what delusion are you labouring? My name is the same as it has ever been. I am still the Winny Wardour whom you left at the Priory— the same in heart, but otherwise changed indeed, as you see.'

'Changed indeed!' he faltered, with a deep sigh, and mournfully pondering my features'changed indeed! Alas! you have known sorrow, Miss Wardour, since we parted-disappointment and bereavement-I fear,' he continued, with tender delicacy. Our eyes met: he started con

vulsively; I knew not what he read there, for I did not mean to reveal a passing thought. Think not I wish to pain you, Winifred, or to intrude on sacred sorrows,' he faintly murmured, exhausted with emotion; but at this awful hour I must know the truth: I ought to know it, for your eyes speak another tale than that I was led to believe.' What had my tell-tale eyes revealed unconsciously? A burning blush mounted to my temples, as Mark Avenel proceeded in a firmer tone 'When I decided on quitting the Priory, so soon as my duties there were fulfilled, it was with the conviction that you, Winifred, were affianced and attached to another: my informant was your sister.'

'It was false-cruelly, fatally false!' burst from me in uncontrollable anguish and bitterness, as the past became clear to us both at the same moment-clear to him as me.

A fearful spasm passed athwart his wan countenance; he drew me to his bosom, pleading low, 'Forgive me-forgive me that I ever doubted you-my love-my life!' Wildly-passionately—I replied I know not what. He clasped me closely to his heart, articulated distinctly, 'Mine in heaven!' and, as the encircling arms relaxed their support, with a prolonged gentle sigh the pure spirit fled to Him who gave it.

Ages of unutterable wo rolled over me; and the first light that dawned on my soul was vouchsafed in the form of a dream-a vision of sleep. I beheld my mother and my lover hand in hand, robed as shining angels, and with radiant smiles beckoning to me from their blissful home, to come and join them. I awoke, crying, 'I come, beloved ones! Oh, joyously I come!' But that bright and welcome vision was sent to comfort me long ago; and I can distinctly remember, when I awoke from the long dark night of sorrow, that I felt as if awaking into a world I had not known before-an unreal, a strange world, where I had to enter on a new phase of existence. I can remember, too, the clear impression on my mind was, that between me and my anguish even time could never intervene with healing; but that, if I lived for half a century to come, the unclosed wound would still remain the same. Unconsciously, however, and by slow degrees, precious balm descended gently on my sick heart, and it gradually revived with the blessed assurance that I had

been loved-faithfully, fondly, passionately loved, as only the noble-hearted can love to the death. We had been permitted to know each other's hearts in life; we had breathed our vows of faith and love on the margin of the grave; and now-now my lost lover looked down with my sainted mother from heaven, and illumined my desolate path with the sunshine of their smiles. Yes; their hallowed memory was light and life, and strength and hope. How short appeared the probation of the longest life on earth, when throughout a glorious eternity we should be re-united. The crown glittered before me on high-it was yet to be

won.

'Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest,' and 'If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me'-these gracious words were written in characters of shining gold, look which way I would. Take up the cross! Yes; and follow him, so that, at the last, I might win an entrance to their home through my Redeemer's merits; easy the yoke and precious the cross to my desolated heart! And thus I began my new existence, with all this pitying help to guide and aid me on my pilgrimage; with a broken heart, but certain that He would vouchsafe to bind it up sufficiently, to enable me to perform His appointed work, and no longer to indulge in selfish grief. His' poor were around me on all sides; 'His lambs to be fed and tended in the wilderness. Mark Avenel had worked before me, and I was privileged, indeed, thus humbly to follow out his charitable plans and efforts; an unworthy and deficient labourer after him in the Master's vineyard. God's grace I have toiled and striven, nor fainted during the heat of the day; and the reward has been-oh, so far beyond my deservings-the reward of a 'great calm,' which by degrees fell on my afflicted soul, and lulled the tempestuous billows to sweet and lasting rest. I may not aver that I have not known many lonely, unspeakably lonely mournful hours, during this latter-day wayfaring, for I am but a frail, weak mortal; and in the silent watches of the night the dear familiar voices whisper kind words in my ear; while the icy breath of the grave comes between, and chills me with its dread approach. But God is near-I call upon His name at such

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