have been thus comforted. Living or dying, we are both Christ's.

"I do not ask you to write me, Bessie. When I set foot again on my native shore, your presence shall be sought at once. Your lips shall pronounce my doom.

"God bless you and keep you and be very near to you, Bessie, dearest, first and last. "Yours unchanged,

"LARRY ESTERLYN.”

Weeping endureth for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." "Even so," I said, as, rising from the perusal of Larry's letter, in which I had been interrupted many times by the violence of joyful emotion, I saw the pink clouds where the steps of the Dawn had passed on her way to herald the sun.

Holding fast the precious letter and the miniature of Lawrence which had accompanied it, I laid my head on my pillow, to seek a happier rest than had been mine for months. The thought in my mind found its way to my lips, and I sank to sleep, murmuring,

"Dear Lawrence! Not forsaken!"

CHAPTER XXII.

"" 'UPON THEMSELVES," IF NOT UPON THEIR

CHILDREN."

"Men never will be wise till they are fools

Forever."

BAILEY.

"Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind ex

ceeding small;

Though He stands and waits with patience, with exactness grinds He all."

B

ESSIE, come up hither!"

And hearing the voice, I looked, and behold! Lawrence Esterlyn stood on a far height, which rose on the distant shore of a great water, spreading between him and me.

"I will come !" I cried, and embarking in a boat that was moored close to the water's edge, floated swiftly on and on to Lawrence. Overhead, the blue smiled in the light of the summer's sun; underneath, the waves sparkled

with transparent splendor; around me, the creatures of the deep sported in innocent glee. Soft zephyrs filled the white sails of my tiny bark, and on the shore left behind and that to which I was approaching, pleasant landscapes spread, verdant and fair. But my eyes beheld nothing but Lawrence standing in the distance, with a blessed smile of welcome in his face. Stretching my arms toward him, I called to him in the excitement of a wild joy. Soon I had landed and was climbing the eminence on which he stood, and from which he descended

to meet me—

"Bessie! Bessie! Wake up! Do wake, Bessie!"

I opened my eyes at the call, and they rested on the figure of Kate, who in bonnet and shawl stood at my bedside. I closed them again half involuntarily, and would fain have dreamed on.

"Bessie! Sluggard and dreamer, what vision did you have but now of Lawrence Esterlyn, that you murmured his name in your sleep?"

Broad awake now, I started up. The letter

and miniature fallen from my, relaxed grasp lay on the pillow. Kate seized the latter, and turned a questioning gaze on my face.

"Open it?" she returned. Say yes, quickly, sister."

"Some explanation is necessary before you see this miniature," I answered, laying my hand upon it. "Will you forego it, and gratify curiosity?"

She did not answer, but opened the case. "Larry!" she exclaimed in astonishment. I handed her the letter, which she took in silence, and began its perusal. Soon she came quietly to me, and said with a caress,

"Bessie, how stupid I have been! Can you forgive me? All this time you have loved and suffered, and I have never suspected what strangers have been aware of. I can understand now Ellice Manvers' questions regarding you. I thought her strangely inquisitive at times."

"What did she ask you, Kate?" I said.

'Oh, she asked if you were well; this was

346

UPON THEMSELVES.

a matter of course; and if you liked teaching, and if your pupils were troublesome ? She asked these things many times."

"I must write to Ellice," I said, with a pang at heart, remembering how jealous and unjust I had been.

Kate sat apparently absorbed in thought. I went quietly about the room, now that I was dressed, putting it in order, and opening the windows to give entrance to the clear, bracing air of a fine day. Presently Kate said: "Poor Walworth Forrester ! "

"What of him?" I inquired.

"What of him?" she repeated half indignantly. Bessie, are you aware of what your marriage-day will be to him?"

"A trial, I know," I said; "but it will pass, sister. The woman whom he could not and would not wed, even did she love him, he must resign to another. Henceforth himself must suffice for himself for a space at least, and God is over all. He has learned this long before now, Kate."

"And yet I say again," she said persistently, "Poor Walworth Forrester ! "