to the south of England, to see his widowed and invalid sister, who had long known and loved Leslie; while there, many arrangements for the future were talked over, and committed to the keeping of Him who was to be their guide in the wilderness and in the great deep, even as He had been in days of old.

"Can we take Barney with us, Philip?" said Leslie one day; "he is so anxious to go, and I do believe that it is the right love that is drawing his young heart, not the love of us. During that time of Stürm und Drang,' Philip, I thought I would like to bring sunshine to somebody else, and I think God blessed my weak words,--there was such a change in his conduct." Philip pressed her hand silently, and raised his heart in thanksgivings to God for his betrothed. "He knows something of strange tongues," said she, smiling.

"You did not give up your studies, dearest, when you gave me up," and Philip smiled too. "No; I did not think it right, for I knew

that a turn for languages was the principal talent that God had confided to me, so I went on, and somehow it came out that dear little Barney had a craze for books and for learning languages, and I gave him one or two lessons, and he came on so well, that at last it became one of my greatest pleasures, and I find that he went on in my absence with some books I had left for him."

"We will take him, Leslie, if Aunt Hester will give us leave."

The joy and the sorrow in the Corner House was great when it was found that Barney was to go away to foreign parts; it was generally believed, that tall as he was Flora had caught Barney in his old attitude when much overcome with joy, for she was overheard remarking in an injured tone that it was all one as if ostriches and giraffes were to stand on their heads in the back green." Both Flora and Susan were more incoherent than usual for some days, and Aunt Hester, though sorrowful too, had many happy hours of conversation with the

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boy, who threw off all reserve, and told his friend and benefactress all that had been working in his mind for so long; she had done much for him, Leslie had done more, but still he ended with "God bless the Ragged School!" Bible words and Bible lessons there learned, had worked in his mind long after they had sunk into it apparently lost or unheeded.

CHAPTER XVI.

WHAT IS DOING, AND WHAT REMAINS TO BE DONE.

If thou

"YE shall not afflict any widow, or FATHERLESS CHILD. afflict them in any wise, and they cry at all unto me, I will surely hear their cry, and my wrath shall wax hot."-Ex. xxii. 22, 24.

"There is no carpet upon the floor,

The wind whistles in through the cracks of the door,
One might reckon her miseries by the score,

But who feels interest in one so poor?

Yet she is my sister.

"She was blooming, and fresh, and young, and fair,
With bright-blue eyes and auburn hair,

But the rose is eaten with canker care,

And her visage is marked with grim despair,---
Such is my sister!

"When at early morning, to rest her head,
She throws herself on her weary bed,
Longing to sleep the sleep of the dead;
Yet fearing from all she has heard and read-
Pity my sister.

"But the bright sun shines on her and on me,
And on mine and hers, and on thine and thee,
Whatever our lot in life may be,

Whether of high or low degree,

Still she's our sister.

Weep for our sister;

Pray for our sister,-
Succour our sister."

PHILIP's sister, Mrs. Weston, lived in a

pretty cottage about twenty miles south of

London, where there is a long valley-like stretch of country, bounded by hills, and varied by undulating ground, and wooded knolls, which is a favourite locality for invalids requiring mild and salubrious air. The change had done Leslie so much good, and she and Mrs. Weston grew into such complete sympathetic regard for and with each other, that Philip agreed to leave her at Ivy Hollow, while he paid another passing visit to London upon business.

Mrs. Weston was one who did not possess many gifts, strong health and spirits were denied to her, she did not inherit the talents of her brother, and she often suffered painfully from nervous shyness; nevertheless she had long ago resolved to be a worker in the Lord's vineyard, under whatever disadvantages, and she had set herself to find out, with the help of her God, what line of service she was most fitted for. She had a gift for winning the confidence and affections of young girls, and this she resolved to cultivate to the utmost.

Unable from small means to