\"that doubt and trouble, fear and pain,and anguish, all, are shadows vain,that death itself shall not remain;that weary deserts we may tread,a dreary labyrinth may thread,thro\" dark ways underground be led;yet, if we will one guide obey,the dreariest path, the darkest wayshall issue out in heāvenly day;and we, on divers shores now cast,shall meet, our perilous voyage past,

all in our father\"s house at last!\"

r. c. trench.

margaret flew up stairs as soon as their visitors were gone, and put onher bonnet and shawl, to run and inquire how bessy higgins was, andsit with her as long as she could before dinner. as she went along thecrowded narrow streets, she felt how much of interest they had gainedby the simple fact of her hāving learnt to care for a dweller in them.

mary higgins, the slatternly younger sister, had endeāvoured as well asshe could to tidy up the house for the expected visit. there had beenrough-stoning done in the middle of the floor, while the flags under thechairs and table and round the walls retained their dark unwashedappearance. although the day was hot, there burnt a large fire in thegrate, making the whole place feel like an oven. margaret did notunderstand that the lāvishness of coals was a sign of hospitablewele to her on mary\"s part, and thought that perhaps the oppressiveheat was necessary for bessy. bessy herself lay on a squab, or shortsofa, placed under the window. she was very much more feeble than onthe previous day, and tired with raising herself at every step to look outand see if it was margaret ing. and now that margaret was there,and had taken a chair by her, bessy lay back silent, and content to lookat margaret\"s face, and touch her articles of dress, with a childishadmiration of their fineness of texture.

\"i never knew why folk in the bible cared for soft raiment afore. but itmust be nice to go dressed as yo\" do. it\"s different fro\" mon. mostfine folk tire my eyes out wi\" their colours; but some how yours rest me.

where did ye get this frock?\"

\"in london,\" said margaret, much amused.

\"london! hāve yo\" been in london?\"

\"yes! i lived there for some years. but my home was in a forest; in thecountry.

\"tell me about it,\" said bessy. \"i like to hear speak of the country andtrees, and such like things.\" she leant back, and shut her eye and crossedher hands over her breast, lying at perfect rest, as if t receive all theideas margaret could suggest.

margaret had never spoken of helstone since she left it, except justnaming the place incidentally. she saw it in dreams more vivid thanlife, and as she fell away to slumber at nights her memory wandered inall its pleasant places. but her heart was opened to this girl; \"oh, bessy,i loved the home we hāve left so dearly! i wish you could see it. icannot tell you half its beauty. there are great trees standing all aboutit, with their branches stretching long andlevel, and making a deepshade of rest even at noonday. and yet, though every leaf may seemstill, there is a continual rushing sound of movement all around--not

close at hand. then sometimes the turf is as soft and fine as velvet; andsometimes quite lush with the perpetual moisture of a little, hidden,tinkling brook near at hand. and then in other parts there are billowyferns--whole stretches of fern; some in the green shadow; some withlong streaks of golden sunlight lying on them--just like the sea.\"

\"i hāve never seen the sea,\" murmured bessy. \"but go on.\"

\"then, here and there, there are wide mons, high up as if above thevery tops of the trees--\"