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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76570 ***
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  WOODCLIFF.
+
+
+  BY
+
+  HARRIET B. McKEEVER,
+
+  AUTHOR OF "EDITH'S MINISTRY," "SUNSHINE," "FLOUNCED ROBE," ETC.
+
+
+  PHILADELPHIA:
+  LINDSAY & BLAKISTON.
+  1865.
+
+
+
+
+  Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, by
+  LINDSAY & BLAKISTON,
+  in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States
+  for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.
+
+  STEREOTYPED BY J. FAGAN & SON.  PRINTED BY SHERMAN & CO.
+
+
+
+
+  CONTENTS.
+
+
+  CHAPTER
+
+  I.--The Sea-Shore
+  II.--A Ride on Horseback
+  III.--Maddy's Triumph
+  IV.--Too Proud to Bend
+  V.--Youthful Visions
+  VI.--A Scotch Matron
+  VII.--The Cottage and the Hall
+  VIII.--Boston Relatives
+  IX.--Home Again
+  X.--Sunshine at the Hall, Shadows at the Cottage
+  XI.--A Mother's Life Sorrow
+  XII.--Stars in the Night Season
+  XIII.--Driftwood
+  XIV.--Excelsior
+  XV.--Strife
+  XVI.--Rugged Hills for Weary Feet
+  XVII.--Mirage, or Madeline after a Triumph
+  XVIII.--The Early Dawn
+  XIX.--"Auld Lang Syne"
+  XX.--Out in the Light
+  XXI.--Searching for Scottish Friends
+  XXII.--Mist on the Mountain
+  XXIII.--Graham Hall
+  XXIV.--Wings Clipped that had Commenced to Soar
+  XXV.--Parting from English Friends
+  XXVI.--The First Link Lost and Found
+  XXVII.--Hearts' Ease
+  XXVIII.--Seaweed
+  XXIX.--Beatitudes
+  XXX.--Fellow Heirs of the Grace of Life
+  XXXI.--Reunion
+
+
+
+
+WOODCLIFF.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+THE SEA-SHORE.
+
+It is a summer afternoon--the light fleecy clouds float lazily over
+the glowing landscape--the sun is shining brightly over the deep blue
+waves, gilding their crested foam with sparkling diamonds, and
+lighting up the golden hair of a little girl, who sits upon the
+beach, gazing out upon the wide-spread ocean.  It is a graceful form
+which sits there, tapping her dainty little foot, and laying her hand
+caressingly, every now and then, upon the head of her favorite old
+dog, Hector.
+
+Her hat is thrown down by her side, and leaves uncovered a head of
+remarkable beauty: the deep blue eyes, fringed with their dark
+lashes, express a world of feeling; the delicately arched nostril and
+curved mouth betoken pride, but a troop of dimples is playing around
+that expressive feature, lighting up the whole face with arch humor;
+the transparent complexion, through which glows, in rosy tints, the
+feelings of her sensitive nature, lends its finishing touch of
+enchanting loveliness to the sweet picture; and, as the sea-breeze
+lifts the flowing ringlets which lie in such rich profusion around
+her shoulders, seldom could be seen such a revelation of bright and
+happy childhood as the young being who sits there, singing one of her
+favorite songs.
+
+A passer-by, who knows something of the thorny paths of life's
+pilgrimage, would scarce know which to do, to sigh or smile at the
+glimpse of such a beaming face; but the ever-changing expression and
+flitting color would be most likely to cause a sigh, as one might
+anticipate the discipline which such a spirit must taste in a rough
+and stormy world.
+
+But we will not anticipate sorrows, sweet child!
+
+Bright days of happy childhood are before thee!
+
+She certainly dreams of nothing yet but joy, and hope, and love.
+
+"You're a good dog, Hector--don't we love each other, old fellow?"
+and Madeline stooped down to rub her cheek against her pet's shaggy
+head.
+
+Looking up in her face as though he understood all she said, he
+seemed proud of his little friend's caresses, and making a kind of
+pleasant growl, he put up his shaggy paw, as was his custom, when he
+wanted to be especially petted.  Not far from where she sits, may be
+seen a group of children playing with their wheelbarrows.
+
+A little girl of six, and two older boys are busily engaged in
+filling their barrows with shining white pebbles, and while pursuing
+their innocent play, they prattle merrily together about the riches
+which they supposed themselves to be gathering.
+
+But little difference is there between these children and men of
+larger growth--for these are gathering pebbles, and men are gathering
+dust.
+
+"Look here!  Philip," said the little girl, "I am sure that this is a
+real diamond; don't you remember when John Stanley came from Cape
+May, what a heap of diamonds he brought with him, and sold them for
+ever so much money?"
+
+"Yes, sis, but then you know that he said you might gather a great
+many pebbles, before you get one diamond?"
+
+"But I'm sure, Philip, that I have found a great many; so clear and
+so big; I'm so glad, because I'll give 'em all to mother, and we
+shall be so rich; she won't have to work so hard any longer; I could
+work here all day if I could only see dear mother smile again."
+
+"Well, you're a good little girl, sis, and I hope that we shall find
+that you are right," and as they continued their innocent employment,
+they sang cheerily, and little Susan, in her delight, would
+frequently stop to clap her hands, and dance with joy.  Just then, a
+couple of boys came up, who had been watching the children for some
+time.
+
+They were clad in the height of boyish fashion, and with a conceited
+air, approached our little speculators, tapping their pantaloons with
+their canes, and with a supercilious manner, accosted them.
+
+"What are you about there, you little fools?" said Harry Castleton.
+"Do you call these stones that you have been wheeling up diamonds?
+they're nothing but common pebbles, and you're a set of fools for
+your pains--you'd better go home, and dig potatoes," and rudely
+snatching the wheelbarrow, Harry tumbled it down to the edge of the
+surf, and upset all the contents into the ocean; while Charles
+Davenport stood by snapping his fingers with malicious delight.
+
+It was a dreadful loss to poor little Susan, who burst into a bitter
+fit of weeping, and Philip stood looking angrily on.
+
+These were larger boys, and neither of Susan's brothers felt old
+enough to attack them, although they were boiling with anger.
+
+Just at that moment, a poor boy who had seen the whole proceeding,
+stepped up.
+
+'Tis true that he wore patched pantaloons, which were too short, and
+an old threadbare jacket; but his linen collar, though coarse, was
+white; and his shoes, though very old and worn out, were neatly tied
+with black strings--poverty was stamped upon his attire, but nobility
+upon his broad expansive brow.
+
+A look of manliness which shot from his fine dark eyes, and the
+firmness which compressed the lip, rather overawed the boys who saw
+him advancing; but when their mean spirits perceived the poverty of
+his attire, contempt mastered their temporary fear, and they stood
+ready for the encounter.
+
+"For shame! young gentlemen," said the boy, "couldn't you find your
+equals in size and age when you attempt such cowardly acts?"
+
+"Who are you, sir?" said Harry Castleton, "that you dare speak to
+your betters in such a tone? take yourself off in a minute, or I'll
+lay the weight of my cane across your face."
+
+"I'm a boy like yourself, young gentleman, but I scorn to attack weak
+little children in their plays, or to fight with puppies."
+
+"Do you dare to call me a puppy?" shouted Harry Castleton, and flying
+at the boy, he dealt him a violent blow across the face, causing the
+blood to fly from his nose, and at the same moment, kicking the
+little wheelbarrow out into the ocean.
+
+The little girl with the golden locks had been looking on the scene,
+but as soon as she saw the blow struck by the young upstart, she flew
+towards the boy.
+
+"Oh, Harry Castleton! aren't you ashamed of yourself! first to
+disturb these poor little children, and then to make a coward of
+yourself by attacking a boy that won't fight?" and hastening up to
+the boy, she took her delicate handkerchief, and wiping his bleeding
+nose, she said kindly,
+
+"I am afraid that you are hurt."
+
+"Not much, miss, it's only a trifle;" but as she seated the boy, she
+perceived the blood gushing from a wound in the temple, that she had
+not seen before.
+
+Running to the surf, she brought the handkerchief back again, and
+with the most tender, generous care, continued wiping the blood which
+still kept oozing from the wound.
+
+Charles and Harry stood by sneering.
+
+"Really, coz," said Charles, "you are making a fool of yourself,
+waiting upon a beggar boy, as if he were the son of a gentleman."
+
+"I don't think that fine clothes always make the gentleman; for I'm
+sure I've learned this afternoon, that the feelings of a gentleman
+may lodge under a threadbare jacket; what is your name young
+gentleman?" continued the child.
+
+"My name is Roland Bruce," was the answer.
+
+"And mine is Madeline Hamilton," was the frank response.  "Why didn't
+you knock Harry down!  I should have been so angry that I'm sure I
+should have struck back again."
+
+"I was very angry, miss, but I've been taught that 'He who mastereth
+his spirit, is better than he that taketh a city.'
+
+"But when you are struck, I think that you ought to defend yourself."
+
+"I did, by trying to ward off the blow; but I should have made it no
+better by stooping to fight with such a boy as that."
+
+"Well, I'm glad to see that you're a proud boy," continued the child,
+laughing, "and I'm sure that you made those upstarts ashamed of
+themselves--see how they're slinking off!  I'm ashamed to call
+Charles Davenport cousin--do you feel better?" added the little girl.
+
+"Yes, thank you, I'm much obliged to you for your kindness; and here,
+miss, is your pocket-handkerchief."
+
+"I don't want it," said the child; "you must wear it home," and she
+tied it carefully over the wounded temple.
+
+As the boy raised his cap to bid her good afternoon, looking after
+him, she said aloud, "I wonder what is meant by a nobleman, nature's
+nobleman?  I guess that's one--I'd rather call him cousin, with his
+patched clothes, than that mean, contemptible pair."
+
+Thus soliloquized Madeline Hamilton, the spoiled and petted child of
+rich Mr. Hamilton, of Woodcliff.  Turning to little Susan, who still
+cried for her wheelbarrow, she said,
+
+"Let us see if we can't find your barrow," and running down to the
+shore, she found that it had been washed up, and was fastened between
+a couple of large stones, from which she soon lifted it, and restored
+it to the poor child.
+
+"Come over to Woodcliff to-morrow, and Aunt Matilda will give you
+something."  Then giving the child particular directions, Madeline
+returned to the spot where she had left her flat, and calling Hector,
+hastened home.  It was a tolerably long walk, and by the time that
+she reached home, it was late sundown.
+
+She entered full of excitement.  Throwing down her flat, and seating
+herself at the tea-table, she commenced telling her adventure.
+
+"Aunt Matilda," continued the child, "what is a nobleman--nature's
+nobleman?"
+
+"Why, a nobleman is one who is born of a noble family, to be sure,"
+was the answer.  "Our descent is English, and our ancestors were all
+nobles."
+
+"Once I remember that you told me a nobleman was coming to dine with
+us, and I expected to see a very grand person; and when he came, he
+was only a little man, who took snuff out of a gold snuff-box, drank
+wine, and talked about hunting.  I didn't see anything noble about
+him.  Another time, our pastor said that Mr. Linwood would call upon
+us, who had divided a very large fortune equally among his brothers
+and sisters, though they had all been cut off by the father's will.
+Our pastor called him noble, because he had done a noble deed.  Now,
+aunty, there is no use to try to make me believe anything
+else--everybody is noble who does noble acts; and I don't care how he
+is dressed, or where he lives.  Now, aunty, don't be affronted, I
+can't help my feelings; I do love good people, and high-spirited
+people, even in rags; and I hate mean, low-minded people, even
+dressed in fine clothes.  I can't act deceitfully; they make me mad,
+and I can't help showing it.  Now, aunty, what is a gentleman?"
+
+"One who is brought up with the manners of a gentleman, who dresses
+like a gentleman, and who belongs to a genteel family."
+
+"Well, aunt, I suppose then that you call Charles Davenport a
+gentleman?"
+
+"Why, to be sure I do."
+
+"Well, I call him a vulgar, low-bred boy; and, aunt, I suppose that
+you would call Roland Bruce, with his patched clothes, short
+pantaloons, and old jacket, a common boy?"
+
+"To be sure I would, child; why, what is he?"
+
+"Why, I think he must be one of nature's noblemen, for he looked ever
+so much grander than Charles or Harry, as he stood on the beach,
+taking the part of poor little children, and wouldn't fight, either.
+They looked really mean in their fine dress, and he looked like a
+hero in his poor clothes.  Give me nature's nobleman, after all,
+aunty."
+
+"Brother, just listen to the child," said Aunt Matilda; "did you ever
+hear such horrid talk?  I can't instil any proper pride into that
+girl."
+
+Mr. Hamilton threw himself back in his chair, and laughed heartily at
+what he called "Madcap's spirit," and told his sister "not to be
+alarmed, for he was afraid that they'd find too much pride there some
+day, for either of them to manage."
+
+Aunt Matilda loved her high-spirited little niece, and found it very
+easy to forgive her; but she was often sadly afraid that she would
+forget her rank, and disgrace her family, by improper connexions.
+Soon after tea was over, Charles and Harry made their appearance, but
+Madeline was still so indignant that she quickly left the room, and
+steadily refused all her aunt's entreaties to return.
+
+"They're a mean pair, aunty, and I can't see either of them this
+evening," was all the response that she could obtain from her wilful
+little niece.
+
+Before retiring, the warm-hearted child sought her father's study,
+and seating herself on his lap, laid her cheek softly against his,
+and said, "Papa, kiss me before I go to bed.  If I've said anything
+wrong, forgive me, dear papa."
+
+"No, little Mad-cap, you've done nothing wrong; only, dear, I don't
+want you to associate with all kinds of common people."  And thus the
+impulsive child's faults were winked at by her indulgent father, and
+false worldly sentiments inculcated by her frivolous aunt.  The next
+day, little Susan presented herself at Woodcliff, and Aunt Matilda,
+who was really kind-hearted, gave her some very nice garments for her
+mother and brothers; and Madeline, with the impulsiveness of her
+nature, was loading gifts upon her that were wholly unsuitable, until
+aunty came in to check the profuseness of the generous child; and
+Madeline was sadly disappointed as she carried back to her wardrobe a
+handsomely flounced pink lawn, and a pretty little jaunty hat trimmed
+with flowers.
+
+"I'm sure they would have been very nice for Sundays," soliloquized
+the child; "at any rate, I wanted her to have them.  Aunt Matilda is
+so stingy and so cross--dear me!  I wish I was a young lady, just to
+do as I please.  I'll have what I want, and give what I choose, then,
+that I will."
+
+Many a nice garment found its way to Mrs. Grant, for Madeline
+regarded little Susan as her own particular protégé after the
+adventure by the sea-shore, and the child herself was never tired of
+telling her mother about the good boy that took her part so warmly,
+and the beautiful child that wiped his face with her fine linen
+handkerchief; and the mother could not help laughing as she mimicked
+the manner in which Harry and Charles sneaked away after her
+indignant rebuke; "and I am sure that they are no gentlemen, though
+they were dressed ever so grand," was the conclusion that little
+Susan always reached at the end of her story.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+A RIDE ON HORSEBACK.
+
+Woodcliff is truly a pleasant home, where Mr. Hamilton has displayed
+his fine taste, and rendered it one of the most attractive residences
+in the whole neighborhood.  It is a very elegant mansion, surrounded
+on the first floor by piazzas, while balconies from the second story
+command a fine view of the adjacent country.  It stands majestically
+on the top of a high cliff, sloping down in grassy terraces to an
+artificial lake, where numerous goldfish enjoy their merry gambols,
+and where Madeline frequently sits dabbling her pretty white feet,
+and throwing crumbs of bread to the pets which she has tamed.  At the
+back of the house may be seen a large conservatory, filled with rare
+and beautiful flowers, and at the opposite wing a fine library; both
+wings opening into gardens laid out with the most exquisite taste,
+adorned with every variety of rich and costly shrubbery.
+
+And here has passed the childhood of Madeline Hamilton, the only and
+petted child of a father who idolizes her, and who will not cross her
+strong will, or deny any indulgence that wealth can purchase.
+
+Having lost her mother in her infancy, her only female guide is a
+maiden aunt, whose weak character is entirely unable to control the
+strong will of her wayward little niece.  Indeed, though often much
+provoked, a few cunning compliments, and a shower of warm kisses,
+could at any time disarm Aunt Matilda's anger; so that by flattering
+her aunt, by numerous blandishments, and by sundry coaxing ways with
+her father, Madeline pretty generally ruled the household.  Though
+proud spirited and passionate, she had a warm and generous nature--a
+creature of storms, and tears, and smiles; and parlor and kitchen
+alike bent to the will of the spoiled child, for her witcheries had
+bound all to her little car.  Her favorite amusement was riding about
+the country upon a pony, which her father had purchased for her two
+years before.
+
+Mounted on Selim, away she would scamper up and down the lanes and
+hills of Woodcliff, sometimes attended by a groom; but if she could
+contrive to elude his vigilance, most frequently she took these rides
+alone.
+
+Selim was very gentle, and they were great friends; but occasionally
+he had been known to run away when suddenly frightened.
+
+Aunt Matilda often remonstrated against these wild rides, but all in
+vain.
+
+"There she goes like a Mad-cap down the lane!  I tell you, brother,
+that we shall have her brought home some day, either crippled or
+killed."
+
+Just as Aunt Matilda concluded her speech to Mr. Hamilton, the child
+turned her beautiful face, beaming with mischief, back upon her
+father, and waving her little whip in defiance, she tossed her bright
+locks to the wind, and galloped off.
+
+"I can't bear to restrain her, sister; nothing has ever happened yet,
+and it seems such a pity to check such a spirit as that."
+
+Madeline was in high glee, and Selim was equally frolicsome.  Taking
+the path with which they were both familiar, she rode gaily along,
+fearless and joyous, singing some merry song.
+
+Passing a corner of the road, she was suddenly attracted by the sight
+of the boy of the sea-shore.  As she passed, he took off his cap
+respectfully to the little girl, and she returned the salutation by
+reining up her horse, and inquiring about his injuries.
+
+"They are quite well, miss," was the reply; "and mother is very
+thankful to the young lady, who so kindly lent me her handkerchief."
+
+Just then Maddy perceived Harry and Charles riding rapidly up the
+road, and who started off at a quick pace as they passed her.
+Charles gave two or three cuts of his whip upon Selim's haunches, a
+liberty which he would not bear.  He started in full gallop.
+Madeline kept her seat bravely, but with a pale cheek and quivering
+lip; for now she was really frightened, and found herself incapable
+of checking his speed.  On he galloped, more and more fiercely, for
+the sight of the flying horses but increased the swiftness of his
+flight.
+
+Roland saw her danger, and every moment expected to see her thrown as
+he perceived her swaying backward and forward.  With lightning speed,
+he had started as soon as he saw the mean act of the boys, and by
+wondrous efforts succeeded in reaching the horse.  Exerting all his
+strength, he headed off the animal at the risk of his life, and
+seizing the bridle, held on even while the horse was rearing.
+
+"Hold tight, Miss Madeline," said Roland, with a firm voice; "men are
+coming."
+
+At that moment he was thrown to the ground, but still held on to the
+bridle, though kicked severely by the frightened animal.
+
+In another instant two men arrived, who succeeded in lifting Madeline
+from Selim's back; and extricating Roland from his perilous
+condition, found that he had severely sprained his ankle, and
+received several bruises.
+
+Madeline was laid fainting upon the ground, and when the boys who had
+caused the accident rode up, their blanched countenances indicated
+the terror which they really felt.
+
+"We did not mean to throw you, coz," said Charles; "all we meant was
+a little sport."
+
+"You might have killed your cousin, young gentlemen," answered Roland.
+
+"Hold your tongue, you low upstart!  What right have you here?" was
+the rude reply.
+
+"It was well that I was near, for Miss Madeline had not much to hope
+for from her manly cousins."
+
+"Begone! you ragamuffin!  We want none of your help."
+
+"I shall not go, sir, until I have seen Miss Madeline safe in her
+father's house," was the quick reply; and with a firm step, Roland
+advanced towards the little girl, and after she was sufficiently
+recovered, succeeded, by the help of the men, in placing her upon
+Selim's back, who was now quite pacified.  Roland, though suffering
+from a sprained ankle, taking the horse's bridle, led him quietly
+along.
+
+Seeing Roland master of the field, the two boys sneaked away, and
+Madeline said,
+
+"I'm glad that they are gone; a pair of mean cowardly fellows!  I
+can't bear Charley Davenport; but I'm afraid that you are hurt,
+Roland," continued the child, "and I'm so sorry that those rude boys
+spoke so insultingly.  But don't mind them, Roland; I only wish you
+were my cousin, instead of Charles."
+
+"Don't think of me, miss; you were kind to me when I was hurt the
+other day; and I am so glad that I can be of any service to you.  As
+to the boys, I pity them; they have never been taught what is true
+politeness."
+
+"There is Woodcliff, Roland," said Madeline, as she turned into the
+avenue which led to the house.
+
+Mr. Hamilton and Aunt Matilda ran hastily down to meet her; and soon
+they perceived her horse led slowly along.
+
+"What is the matter, my darling?" inquired the father, lifting her
+from the horse, and alarmed at her pallid countenance.
+
+"Not much, now, papa; but if it had not been for the bravery of this
+good boy, I might have been killed," and as soon as she was seated,
+she related the story of her rescue to her grateful father.
+
+"Thank you, my brave boy," said Mr. Hamilton, as he wrung Roland's
+hand.  "You have done me a favor which I shall never forget."
+
+As Roland stood uncovered in Mr. Hamilton's presence, he thought that
+he had never seen a more noble boy, though clad in the garb of
+poverty.  Taking out his pocketbook, he offered him a five dollar
+note, a great treasure for Roland Bruce.  Drawing himself proudly up,
+while the color mounted to his very temples, he said:
+
+"Excuse me, sir; I would not lose the pleasure of helping Miss
+Madeline, and poor as I am, I cannot receive anything for an act so
+simple."
+
+"If I can serve you in any way, my boy, come to me freely; I should
+be most happy to aid you."
+
+Just then the two cousins rode slowly up the avenue, and felt justly
+humbled at the sharp reproofs administered in the presence of Roland
+Bruce.
+
+"Boys, I am heartily ashamed of you.  When you practise jokes of this
+kind, let it be on some one beside a little girl; I am sorry that
+your cousin had to find a protector in a stranger."
+
+"Papa, look at Roland, how pale he is!" exclaimed Madeline, just as
+he sank down exhausted on the step of the piazza.
+
+"You are hurt, my boy," said Mr. Hamilton.
+
+Roland tried to smile, but the pain of his ankle was so severe, that
+he could no longer conceal his sufferings.  "I think that I have
+sprained my ankle," was the answer.
+
+Mr. Hamilton instantly took off the shoe, and was shocked to see how
+much it was swollen.
+
+"You must come in, my boy, and have remedies applied at once."
+
+After bathing and bandaging the limb, much to the mortification of
+the two boys, Roland was sent home in the buggy, under the care of
+the coachman.  Charles and Harry shrank away into the house, and
+Madeline cried because her friend was hurt.
+
+"Won't you send over to-morrow, papa, to see how he is?  He is such a
+good, brave boy."
+
+"Yes, my child, all shall be done that is right; but you must not
+fret so much about a stranger."
+
+With the careful nursing of a good mother, and the kind attentions of
+Mr. Hamilton, Roland soon recovered, and Madeline frequently stopped
+at the cottage door to inquire for her young protector.
+
+Mr. Hamilton was sadly puzzled to know what to do with his wild
+little daughter.
+
+She was now ten years old, with bright talents, but a wholly
+undisciplined mind; for nothing of importance had yet been done in
+the great task of education, unless we except a physical form of
+perfectly healthy development.
+
+She had free access to her father's library, and devoured
+indiscriminately whatever came in her way--history, poetry,
+romance--and it was really amusing to see with what facility she
+personified her favorite characters; and how much she remembered of
+the wild legends of feudal days, and of the lords and ladies that
+graced the Courts of Queen Elizabeth and Mary Stuart.
+
+Sir William Wallace and Robert Bruce, were, however, her great
+heroes, and were ever uppermost in her mind whenever she heard of a
+great man.
+
+Fairy tales were her delight; and Madeline was never better pleased
+than when she could gather an audience of youthful listeners, to whom
+she could relate the wonderful doings of these little people.
+
+Acting out in her fanciful costumes either the grandeur of Queen
+Elizabeth, the grace of Mary Stuart, or the changing fortunes of
+Cinderella, Madeline amused her father and Aunt Matilda by her
+witcheries part of the day, spending the remainder of her time in her
+wild frolics on the back of Selim, scouring the woods, or frequently
+attended by Hector, rambling on the sea-shore.
+
+Two or more hair-breadth escapes by land and water, at last decided
+Mr. Hamilton that he must get a governess for his mad-cap daughter,
+and much to her disgust, she was told that papa had gone to Boston to
+bring back a lady, to take charge of her education.
+
+"Now, I suppose, aunty, that I am to be tied down to old musty books,
+slate, pencil and pen, and everlasting thrumming on the old
+piano--good-bye to the wild woods, and the sea-shore.  I know I shall
+get sick; I always get sick over school-books; and then papa will
+have to send.  Miss Prosy away; we'll see, that we will," tapping her
+little foot impatiently on the velvet carpet, and darting a quick
+mischievous glance at her aunt, she continued, "I'll make this house
+too warm for Miss Prosy.  I tell you, aunty, she'll be glad to get
+rid of Madeline Hamilton before long," and tossing aside her
+ringlets, she dashed out of the room, humming a lively tune.
+
+Madeline sought her maid, Nanny, into whose ears she poured all her
+grievances.
+
+"Nanny, is it not too bad?  There's papa gone off to Boston, to bring
+back some horrid old teacher to spoil all my fun.  I expect she is
+tall and thin, and yellow and cross.  I know I shan't like her; I
+never did like a teacher yet."
+
+"I'm real sorry, Miss Maddy, for I think you know more now than half
+of the little girls.  You can say Cinderella, and can act Queen
+Elizabeth, and Queen Mary, and can make verses, and ever so much."
+
+Madeline was a shrewd child, and knew very well that such foolish
+things were of no manner of use to any little girl.
+
+She could not help smiling at Nanny's simplicity, and said,
+
+"Why, you see, Nanny, these things only amuse me.  I know that there
+is a great deal more to learn, but I don't want to take the trouble."
+
+"Don't be afraid, miss; your papa won't make you learn if you don't
+want to; and if you don't like the teacher, I can help you to get her
+away."
+
+"That is a dear good Nanny; I'll give you a new dress, and pretty
+collar, if you'll only be my friend."
+
+"I know what to do, miss; if I tell your papa that you don't sleep
+well, and that you are getting pale, he'll think that you are going
+to be sick, and will send her away, I know."
+
+"Well, Nanny, I am not sick now.  I feel as merry as a lark.  Do you
+want to hear my little song, Nanny?"
+
+Dancing about the room, in a sweet clear voice, she commenced singing,
+
+  Away, away to the woods for me,
+  Away, away to the dear old sea;
+  Away up the hills, and down the lanes,
+  As I give to Selim the lightest reins.
+
+  Then away we scamper in many a race,
+  Giving old Hector a good wild chase;
+  Books and slates are very good things,
+  But Mad-cap would rather dance and sing.
+      Away, away to the woods for me,
+      Away, away to the dear old sea.
+
+
+"Did you really make up that song, Miss Maddy?" asked the wondering
+Nanny.
+
+Madeline burst out laughing as she replied, "Why, yes, Nanny, I often
+make up such little pieces."
+
+"Why, how do you do it, Miss Madeline?"
+
+"I don't know, Nanny; the words just come to me themselves."
+
+"Why sure! what a wonderful child!  What's the use of getting a
+teacher; I guess Miss Prosser can't make verses."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+MADDY'S TRIUMPH.
+
+Late on Saturday evening, Mr. Hamilton arrived with a pale sad
+looking lady, whom he introduced as Miss Prosser.
+
+Aunt Matilda received her as a lady, but wilful little Madeline, with
+a cunning glance of her eye, extended her hand reluctantly, and
+saluted her as Miss Prosy.
+
+"Prosser, my dear," corrected the father.
+
+"Oh, yes, I forgot--Miss Prosser; do you give hard lessons, Miss
+Prosy?" continued the child.
+
+"I do not think that you will have any cause to complain, if you will
+only be diligent and obedient."
+
+"Those are two words which I have never been taught yet, Miss Prosy."
+
+"Prosser, my dear, Prosser," interrupted the father.  "I hope that
+you will find Madeline all that you desire after awhile.  She is a
+wild little girl now; lessons will be hard at first, and you must not
+keep her too close."
+
+Monday morning arrived, and Madeline was summoned to the library,
+where her studies were to be pursued.
+
+Miss Prosser was one of the rigid school of disciplinarians; and
+Madeline, with the quick instinct of a bright child, soon felt that
+there would never be any bond of union between herself and the sad
+lady, who appointed her daily tasks.
+
+The first hour passed tolerably, the second wearily, but the third,
+which introduced her wild imaginative mind to the severe discipline
+of arithmetic, was insufferable; and throwing down her book
+impatiently, she said, "I'm tired of this stuff; I can't do any more
+this day; good-bye, Miss Prosy," and away started the wild child, ere
+her governess could express her surprise.
+
+Running to her father, who was just going out to ride, she begged so
+bewitchingly to accompany him, that papa could not refuse her; and
+Miss Prosser had the mortification of seeing her out of the library
+window, galloping down the avenue on Selim, with her flat set
+jauntily upon her bright young head, and she, poor lady, mourning
+over her wilful scholar.
+
+"Really, my dear, you must not do this again; Miss Prosser will be
+offended."
+
+"I was so tired, dear papa; I felt as if I would smother in that warm
+room; and when she placed the multiplication table before me, I knew
+it was of no use to try; I shall never learn the horrid old thing, I
+know."
+
+Day after day, Madeline wearied the patience of her teacher.
+Sometimes, when it was her whim, she would apply herself most
+earnestly to some favorite exercise, and surprise her at the
+quickness with which she mastered even difficult lessons; but as to
+regular, systematic study, it was out of the question.
+
+Sometimes she would teaze Miss Prosser with endless questions.
+
+"Miss Prosy, why did you not get married? you are very good-looking,"
+inquired the teazing child.
+
+"Miss Madeline, study that lesson, and don't spend your time in
+asking such foolish questions."
+
+"I'm not in the humor, Miss Prosy; I feel lazy; I'd much rather talk;
+and papa says he don't like me forced to study."
+
+"Don't you want to be an intelligent woman, Madeline?"
+
+"I don't know, indeed; I am afraid I should be an old maid, if I
+think too much of learning.  I can gain a great deal by reading, and
+that is what I like."
+
+"Aren't you going to study this morning?" continued Miss Prosser.
+
+"I don't think I shall; I don't feel very well; and if you have no
+objection, I'll lie down on the sofa, and read the Lady of the Lake."
+
+Miss Prosser knew that it was in vain to enforce obedience; for in
+all cases, appeals to Mr. Hamilton ended in Madeline's victory, and
+generally she had to wait upon the young lady's whims.
+
+"Why, Miss Prosser, I do believe that you are growing gray; and you
+always look as if you were going to cry."
+
+Just then, perceiving that two large tears dropped upon the book
+which she was using, Madeline, with all the impulsive warmth of her
+nature, threw her arms around Miss Prosser, saying,
+
+"I did not mean to hurt your feelings; I do so like a little bit of
+fun."
+
+"You should learn, my child, to restrain your impetuous nature, for
+thoughtless words may wound as deeply as intended ones.  I have known
+much of sorrow, Madeline.  Once I was the centre of a happy home,
+where I was cherished as tenderly as you are now; but now I am all
+alone in the world--an orphan, and penniless."
+
+"Do forgive me, dear Miss Prosser," replied the child; "I will never
+do so again," and she hid her face in her hands, bowed her head and
+wept.
+
+"I do forgive you, Madeline, heartily: but do, my dear child, try to
+think always of the feelings of others."
+
+Madeline was subdued all that day.  At the table, she was careful to
+see that Miss Prosser had the nicest little delicacies, and when she
+went to her room at night, the warm-hearted child followed to see
+that she was comfortable, and kissing her, bade her good night.
+
+Matters progressed very well for a few days.  Madeline seemed as if
+she really meant to be a good child, and under the new impulse, the
+governess was hopeful.
+
+The mornings spent in the library were all that she could desire.  It
+was so pleasant to come into contact with such a fresh, original
+mind, as that of her bright little pupil; and then Madeline really
+appeared to be learning the art of self-control.
+
+"There comes Hector!" she exclaimed one morning, as the sharp bark of
+her dog was heard at the door.  Formerly, she would have thrown down
+her books, and rushed out to meet her favorite.
+
+'Tis true that she did for one moment arise from her seat, but
+quickly returning, she said, "There, Hector, go away this time,
+that's a good dog;" and though he continued whining and scratching at
+the door, she remained resolute, and refused him admittance.
+
+This was quite a triumph for Madeline, and Miss Prosser repaid her
+with a smile of encouragement, which impelled Madeline, with a
+heightened color, to renewed efforts of diligent study.
+Occasionally, there would be outbreaks of the old spirt of mischief,
+but generally, the progress was onward.
+
+One morning, Madeline, full of excitement, met her teacher.  "Only
+think Miss Prosser, my cousin is coming; Lavinia Raymond.  Oh! what a
+nice time we shall have; she's the girl for fun; when she's here, we
+are out every day somewhere.  I know papa will give me a holiday; I
+mean to coax hard, and he never refuses his little Mad-cap."
+
+"But, my dear child, you certainly don't expect to give up your
+studies while Lavinia is here."
+
+"Yes, indeed; I think I have learned enough now for the last month to
+last me all the time that she stays with us."
+
+Mad-cap's spirits were fully aroused; it was almost impossible to
+bring her into any kind of composure, and Miss Prosser was compelled
+to shorten the exercises for that day at least.
+
+Lavinia was expected late in the afternoon.  As soon as dinner was
+over, Madeline commenced her visits to the window, the door, and even
+to the gate, which led to the avenue, backward and forward, until she
+was nearly tired out.
+
+"Papa, I don't believe that she is coming at all," at length uttered
+the impatient child.
+
+"Do you know, my dear, that it is only six o'clock," replied Mr.
+Hamilton, smiling, and taking out his watch; "they cannot possibly
+reach here before seven, so you had better run in, and amuse yourself
+at your piano."
+
+Away ran Maddy--opening her instrument, she rattled away for about
+ten minutes; then calling Hector, and throwing on her flat, down the
+avenue, through the gate, and out into the open road she started at
+full speed.  At length, after sundry races of the same description,
+she spied a distant carriage, but was bitterly disappointed when she
+found that it only contained a party of strangers.  Seven o'clock
+came, but no cousin.  Discouraged, she seated herself on the piazza,
+and when at length she found that the carriage had entered the
+avenue, standing tip-toe on the lower step, she awaited, with a
+glowing cheek, the letting down of the carriage step.  In another
+minute, Lavinia was in her cousin's arms, and Mrs. Raymond warmly
+welcomed by her brother-in-law and Aunt Matilda.
+
+She was a woman of the world, devoted to fashion, and training her
+daughter in all its follies.  Lavinia was two years older than
+Madeline, but completely a spoiled child of folly--the only bond of
+sympathy between her and Madeline, was their mutual love of mischief.
+
+"Take me to my room, Maddy, I want to make my toilet," was the first
+request of Lavinia; and accompanied by her maid, Madeline led her to
+her chamber.
+
+Our natural little girl was greatly amused by the pains bestowed upon
+a child's toilet; for the utmost time that Madeline could spare, was
+to bathe thoroughly, twist her ringlets hastily around her fingers,
+put on her simple dress, and without another thought, her toilet was
+completed.  But Lavinia, was washed and powdered, combed and
+pomatummed, her head dressed like a woman's, and after the indulgence
+of an hour's whims, Susette pronounced her "comme il faut."  What a
+contrast between the affectation of Lavina Raymond, and the natural
+sportive grace of Madeline Hamilton!
+
+At the table, Mrs. Raymond answered the polite bow of Miss Prosser
+with a supercilious stare, and Lavinia, imitating her mother's
+rudeness, scarcely noticed her presence.
+
+After a few days of unrestrained license, Miss Prosser ventured to
+remonstrate with Mr. Hamilton, but he could not think of interfering
+with Mad-cap's pleasures; and all that he would consent to was, that
+Lavinia and Madeline should spend two hours daily at their studies,
+unless otherwise engaged.  Two or three mornings of every week, they
+were off on some excursion of pleasure; the remainder of the time was
+broken in upon by every trivial excuse that could be invented.
+Indeed, since Lavinia's arrival, Miss Prosser's influence was at an
+end; lessons were to be excused, musical practice virtually had
+closed.
+
+Lavinia would not study, and even when Madeline was so disposed, she
+would not allow her to do anything but play.  Weary were the hours of
+the sad governess, and once more the prospect of another change began
+to loom up gloomily in the distant horizon.  She had hoped that she
+was at least for years at rest; but the orders to march rang daily in
+her ears.
+
+After many trials and disappointments, Miss Prosser, utterly
+discouraged, was contemplating the perplexity of her situation.
+Seated one morning in the library, waiting for her wayward pupils,
+she was suddenly surprised by the entrance of Mr. Hamilton.  Her sad
+weary expression of countenance touched him for a moment, and he
+said, "I am sorry, Miss Prosser, that my little girl is so wilful,
+but I have not the heart to deny her anything, and when Lavinia has
+gone, we shall return to the old order of things."
+
+"I fear, by that time, my dear sir, that I shall find it impossible
+to bring Madeline into any kind of subjection; I am greatly
+perplexed, for I cannot bear to receive a salary for doing nothing."
+
+"You need not mind, Miss Prosser, if I do not complain."
+
+"I do object, sir, to receive a salary without giving the equivalent,
+and seriously conclude that I cannot do so much longer."
+
+"Do have a little patience, Miss Prosser; Lavinia will leave in about
+a month, and then we shall be regular once more."
+
+Poor Miss Prosser was still severely tried; practical jokes were
+frequently played upon her, and although she was certain that
+Madeline had not taken an active part in them, still it pained her to
+see that even she could be amused at her expense.  Matters grew worse
+instead of better; Madeline was impatient, and Lavinia indifferent.
+
+The month rolled on; Lavinia and her mother took their departure; and
+Miss Prosser endeavored once more to regain her influence over her
+pupil.
+
+"Come, Madeline, aren't you tired of play?" asked the governess.
+
+"No, indeed; I hate books and study, and long, sad faces; Lavinia
+don't go to school but half the year, and I am going to coax papa to
+let me stop until next winter."
+
+"Just come, now, Madeline, and let us read a little together; you
+have not said one lesson for three weeks."
+
+"Well, I suppose I must, just to please you, Miss Prosser; but let it
+be a short one."
+
+Maddy soon commenced yawning, and as soon as the lesson was over,
+brought out her favorite volume of Shakspeare, and really did manage
+to spend another hour in searching for beauties in her pet author;
+but one hour was sufficient, and, begging to be excused, she was
+gone.  And thus the patience of the poor lady was taxed daily, her
+spirits sank, and too conscientious to hold such a position, she
+fully made up her mind to resign.  Accordingly, on the next day,
+Madeline's father was summoned to the library.
+
+"I have sent for you, Mr. Hamilton, to resign my charge; I have tried
+it for six months, but in vain.  Your child has the brightest
+talents, but the system of indulgence pursued towards her, precludes
+entirely the possibility of improvement.  I must have my pupils
+advance, or I cannot be happy.  I have nothing else to complain of;
+my quarter will expire next week, and then I feel that I ought to
+leave."
+
+"I am sorry, Miss Prosser; but I suppose that it cannot be helped."
+
+The lady smiled at this acknowledgment of weakness; but her
+resolution was taken.
+
+The sad, pale teacher took her leave on the following Saturday, and
+when Madeline found that she was really going, with the perverseness
+of such wayward natures, she was actually sorry; she had learned to
+respect her governess, and really liked her better than any who had
+ever taught her before.
+
+"Good-bye, Miss Prosser; I am sorry that I have been so naughty, but
+I can't help it.  Papa says so; and I know it is so.  Here's a
+breastpin, with some of Mad-cap's hair in it; will you show that you
+forgive me by wearing it?"
+
+"Thank you, my dear child; I shall always remember your warm little
+heart; and if ever you change your ways, and desire to hear from your
+friend, write to Messrs. Wood & Co., Boston.  I think that you will,
+Madeline; but some one else must be the teacher.  I have tried my
+utmost, and failed."
+
+Strange to say, Madeline shed some natural tears as she saw the
+carriage vanish with her governess; but in a few days, the feeling of
+perfect liberty in which she revelled, obliterated all the regret,
+and Hector and Selim were again her constant companions.
+
+"Dear me, brother," said Aunt Matilda, "what shall we do with the
+child; she is now nearly eleven, and scarcely any education."
+
+"Time enough yet, Matilda; she'll be all right; don't be afraid of
+Mad-cap, she is bright as a diamond."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+TOO PROUD TO BEND.
+
+"I wish I had something to do; I am tired of playing, tired of
+riding, tired of everything--I have nobody to speak to but papa, and
+Aunt Matilda, and Selim, and my other pets."  Thus soliloquized
+Madeline, as, with a weary yawn, she threw herself upon the sofa in
+the library.  "I get so tired of Aunt Matilda, she never talks any
+sense: nothing but head-dresses, and her complexion, her white hands,
+and the days when she was young.  Miss Prosser did talk sense, and I
+wish she were back again; I always liked her when she made me do what
+she commanded.  I did not let her know it, though; I am too proud for
+that."  And Madeline tapped her little foot upon the carpet, her
+usual way of expressing a chafed, impatient spirit.  "I think I heard
+the bell ring," and running to the window, she peeped through the
+thin curtains, to see who was there.  "Oh! dear, if there isn't
+Roland Bruce--what's that he has got in his basket?"  Just then a
+servant entered.
+
+"Miss Madeline, a poor boy wants to see you at the door."
+
+"O, yes, I know; I am so glad to see him," and away she flew.
+
+Roland took off his cap as soon as he saw the little girl, and with a
+modest air, he said:
+
+"I thought, Miss Madeline, that you would like these pretty doves,"
+uncovering his basket.
+
+Madeline peeped in, and there lay the sweetest little ring-doves,
+with their soft eyes looking up in her face.
+
+"Oh, Roland, what a good boy you are! they are so pretty; it's just
+what I have wanted so long."
+
+"Here's some chickweed, too, Miss Madeline, for your canary; we have
+so much in our garden; and I thought you would like some lilies of
+the valley."
+
+"O, thank you, Roland, how good you are to remember me!  Now let us
+run out into the garden, and you shall plant the lilies."
+
+Leaving her doves in the care of Nanny, her own maid, away scampered
+the child, hair flying, and eyes beaming with innocent delight.
+
+"Here, Roland, this is my garden," said the child, pointing to a
+corner of the grounds which bore many marks of careless culture.
+"Here I come to dig and weed, but I get tired of it; I get tired of
+everything, Roland."
+
+"If you'll let me, I'll come, Miss, and look after your flowers; I
+know something about them, for we raise them and sell them to our
+neighbors.  I have not forgotten your kindness, Miss Madeline."
+
+"I wish you were my brother, or my cousin, Roland, what nice times we
+should have!  I have a boat, a pony, and a dog, and so many things;
+but for all that, I get so tired."
+
+"Have you any books, Miss Madeline?" continued the boy.
+
+"Books! why I have more than I can count--all kinds of books."
+
+"Do you never study, Miss Madeline?" inquired Roland, with a look of
+surprise.
+
+"Study! no, indeed, I hate study.  I like to read stories, and
+poetry, and fairy tales, and accounts of great men--did you ever hear
+of Robert Bruce? he's my hero; wasn't it nice when the spider taught
+him such a lesson?"
+
+"I've read about him, Miss Madeline, for my mother has told me so
+much about Scotland--both my parents were Scotch."
+
+"Were they, Roland? may be you're some relation to Robert Bruce; why
+I do believe you are."
+
+Roland smiled at her simplicity, and stooping down, planted his
+modest flowers in a shady corner.
+
+"Wouldn't you like to go to our school, Miss Madeline?  Mr. Norton is
+such a good teacher."
+
+"Where is your school, Roland?" asked the child.
+
+"It is about a mile from here, in Maple Lane, and such a pleasant
+walk in fine weather."
+
+"Is Mr. Norton cross, Roland?"
+
+"No, indeed; he's the best friend that I ever had."
+
+"Have they more teachers than one?"
+
+"Yes--Mr. Norton the principal, Miss Adams the first assistant, and
+Miss Corning second."
+
+"Are there many scholars, Roland?"
+
+"I think we have sixty, Miss Madeline; Mr. Norton makes everything so
+pleasant, and learning so easy."
+
+"I'll coax papa to let me come; you'll help me to learn, won't you,
+Roland?"
+
+Madeline was sorry when Roland turned to go home.
+
+"Good-bye," said the child, "you'll see me at your school; if I take
+it into my head, I can go;" and running back to the house, once more
+she visited her little pets, and named them Patty and Jim.
+Impatiently she awaited papa's arrival from his ride.  As soon as he
+was seated, jumping on his lap, she threw her arms around his neck,
+and looking up in his face with her own bewitching way, she said:
+
+"Now, papa, I want you to promise me something."
+
+"What is it, Maddy?  It is not much that I can refuse you."
+
+"Well, it's something good, papa; you'll like it, I know.  I want you
+to let me go to the school in Maple Lane.  Mary James, Minnie Scott,
+Lizzie Belton, and Ellen Taylor all go; and I think it will be much
+better than school all alone, and no one to speak to but the teacher."
+
+"I must make some inquiries first, Mad-cap," answered her father.
+
+"Won't you go to-morrow, papa?  I want to go right off, and I promise
+you that I'll study hard; just let me go, that's a dear papa."
+
+"Well, I'll see about it to-morrow, Madeline, and if all is right,
+you shall go; I will do anything to make you learn."
+
+Next morning Mr. Hamilton made the necessary calls upon the parents
+of the children named by Madeline, saw the principal, entered her
+name, and all being satisfactory, his consent was fully given.
+
+"Well, Maddy, all is settled; you will go on Monday to Maple Lane.  I
+hope that you will be a good little girl, and not get tired of it in
+a week or two."
+
+"I hope, my dear niece," said Aunt Matilda, "that you will show some
+proper pride, and not make an acquaintance of everybody that you
+meet.  You must remember that there are many very common people who
+go to school there; no associates for Madeline Hamilton, the heiress
+of Woodcliff."
+
+Madeline put on her mischievous air as she replied, "I'm afraid I
+shall often forget that I must act the little princess; for when I
+meet a right funny little girl, I don't often stop to ask who she is,
+but I just play with those I like."
+
+Monday morning came round; papa's summer carriage was brought up, and
+Maddy, with a glowing cheek and dancing step, seated herself by her
+father's side.  A neat little satchel, and a basket with a nice lunch
+pleased our little girl mightily, for she had never seemed like a
+scholar before.
+
+Maddy was now about eleven years old--a bright animated being; and
+when Mr. Hamilton took her by the hand, and led her up to the desk of
+the principal, all eyes were turned towards the shy little creature,
+who was really abashed by the gaze of so many young faces, all
+looking with curious eyes upon the young stranger.
+
+"I have brought you my little girl, Mr. Norton; she is my only child,
+and quite a darling at home.  She has been so much petted, that I
+fear you will find her sadly deficient."
+
+"We have excellent teachers, Mr. Hamilton, but strict discipline; I
+fear that you may think it too much so for your little daughter."
+
+"We can try it, Mr. Norton, and if too strict, there is an easy
+remedy.  May I ask in what class she will be placed?"
+
+"I presume in Miss Corning's; she has the youngest children."
+
+By this time, Madeline had gained courage enough to look around her,
+and was delighted to greet Roland Bruce on the opposite side of the
+room.  Finally, papa took leave; Madeline underwent examination, and
+was placed under Miss Corning's care.  Her chief study for the first
+day was faces and characters, for she was a quick little one at the
+latter.
+
+Maddy was much amused at the pretensions of some of the purse-proud
+in the neighborhood, and inwardly resolved that none of these
+would-be-ladies should be among her friends.
+
+During the intermission, Lizzie Belton, a young miss of fourteen,
+anxious to cultivate the acquaintance of a Hamilton, stepped forward
+with rather a patronizing air, to take Madeline out to the
+play-ground; but the proud little girl declined the honor, and looked
+eagerly around for Roland.
+
+"I'm so glad that you have come, Roland," said the child.  "I don't
+know any of these girls except by name, and I don't care for them.
+They all seem to think themselves so grand, because they are dressed
+fine.  I don't care for clothes that are too good for a brisk race."
+
+Roland had seen that the child was even rude to some of the girls,
+and said,
+
+"Miss Madeline, don't you think it would be better to be a little
+sociable with them?  You will have enemies among them if you do not."
+
+"If I can find one real little girl, who likes me for myself alone,
+that is the playmate for me.  Bring your sister, Roland; I'd rather
+play with Effie, than any of the rest of them."
+
+"She is not here to-day, Miss Madeline!"
+
+"What do you think of Miss Corning, Roland?  I don't think I shall
+like her very much; she has such a stern, cross way of speaking, She
+need not order me about; I can be led, but I can't be driven!" and
+the proud spirit flashed in Madeline's expressive eyes.
+
+"Just obey the rules, and study well, Miss Madeline, and you'll have
+no trouble with Miss Corning; but if you don't, you'll have a hard
+time.  Every one has to mind her, and you must not try to have your
+own way here."
+
+"Who is that queer-looking boy sitting under the tree, Roland?" asked
+the child.
+
+Roland smiled as he said, "Poor fellow! he is not very smart; his
+name is Tony Willikins; he is an only son, and his father is a very
+rich man, and gives him everything he wants."
+
+Just then Tony came near where Madeline was seated, and being an
+admirer of pretty little girls, he stopped before her, and making an
+attempt to bow by pulling his cap suddenly from his head, and
+clapping it under his arm, he said,
+
+"How do you do, Miss?  Please tell me your name."
+
+Madeline burst out laughing at the grotesque figure that stood before
+her, twisting his watch-chain, and simpering in such an unmeaning
+manner.
+
+"My name is Mad-cap Hamilton," answered the child.
+
+"That's a queer name!  I don't like it much, Miss.  My name is
+Anthony Willikins; my pop lives in a great big house; we have six
+horses and two carriages, and three dogs, and a big garden, and ever
+so many books, but I can't read any of 'em yet; and I've got a boat
+all to myself, and one carriage and two horses.  Wouldn't you like to
+take a ride with me, some day?  I'd like to take you; pop would let
+me, I know; won't you ask your pop to let you go?"
+
+All this time Madeline was convulsed with laughter, and could
+scarcely answer.
+
+"I don't think papa would let me go, Tony; he does not like me to go
+with strangers."
+
+Just then the bell rang, and after a short afternoon session, the
+school was dismissed, and Madeline went home with her tasks for the
+next day.
+
+While the novelty lasted, duties progressed very well; but the old
+habits of indolence returned, and then came the warfare between
+Madeline, the self-willed, and Miss Corning, the determined.
+
+"Madeline, how is it that you now come daily unprepared with your
+lessons?" inquired the lady.
+
+"I had something else to do," was the quick reply.
+
+"Do you expect to go home without reciting them?"
+
+"Certainly, Miss Corning!  I cannot learn them all in school."
+
+"We will see, Madeline! for you can't leave the room at recess, or go
+home until they are learned perfectly."
+
+Madeline threw her books aside, and sat with burning cheek and
+flashing eye, while the tapping of her little foot betrayed the
+tempest within.  Miss Corning said no more at that time.
+
+Roland saw the storm that was brewing, and seating himself near his
+little friend, he whispered:
+
+"Do not act so, Miss Madeline; it is very wrong.  God sees you, and
+you are sinning against him, by not obeying those who have the rule
+over you."
+
+Madeline looked up surprised at Roland, wondering how a poor boy
+could dare so boldly reprove her.  But he was not at all abashed; he
+knew that he was right, and Madeline wrong, and he returned the look
+of indignant scorn with one of pity.
+
+"How dare you pity me, Roland Bruce?  Don't you know that I am
+Madeline Hamilton?"
+
+"Yes, miss, I know all that, and I'm very sorry for it, for my Bible
+says that 'To whom much is given, of him much will be required;'
+Madeline Hamilton, therefore, is bound to be a better, wiser, holier
+child than Bessie Carter, because she has more advantages."
+
+Though Mad-cap was so angry, she inwardly respected the boy, who
+though so far beneath her in social rank, had the courage to lay her
+faults plainly before her.
+
+She sat however, still sullen and silent, and Roland said no more;
+recess had passed, and the school duties were resumed.
+
+Miss Corning glanced occasionally towards her refractory pupil, not
+at all disposed to yield one inch.  Madeline's reflections were of
+the most mortifying character.  She liked and respected Roland Bruce,
+and now she feared that she had lost his friendship by her bad
+conduct; then the inward conviction that she was wrong, and must at
+last own it, was deeply humbling to her pride.
+
+The afternoon passed by, school was dismissed, and Roland still
+lingered.  Walking directly up to Madeline, he said in a manly tone:
+
+"Miss Madeline, you are all wrong; just say so; give up this
+rebellion, and recite your lessons.  I can't go home and leave you
+here; I would not leave Effie, and I cannot leave you."
+
+Madeline was melting; for one moment she hesitated, and then turning
+with swimming eyes, extended her little hand to Roland, as she said:
+
+"You are a true friend; you have dared to tell a spoiled child how
+bad she is, and I honor you for it.  I will study all my lessons, if
+you will only hear me say them."
+
+Miss Corning nodded assent, and Madeline set to work with a good will
+to accomplish her task.  Soon she mastered it, and it was a curious
+sight to behold the flattered and petted child subdued and penitent,
+looking in Roland's face so timidly, for approval and encouragement.
+Such is the force of a strong character, even in a boy.
+
+"Forgive me, Miss Corning," said the humbled little girl, "you don't
+know how I have been spoiled; but I will try to be better in future."
+
+"You will always find me a friend, Madeline, when you do right, but a
+severe judge when you persist in wrong," was the immediate response.
+
+"Good-bye, Roland," said the child, as she left the school-room;
+"don't think me so dreadfully bad.  I am so sorry," and she wept
+bitterly.
+
+"Good-bye, Miss Madeline, I am so glad that you confessed that you
+were wrong; it has raised you so much in my regard; try to do right,
+and God will help you, Miss Madeline."
+
+Maddy had learned two valuable lessons on that day: one, that there
+were two in the world stronger than she, to whom she must submit; and
+the other, that happiness follows a conquest over the natural evils
+of a sinful heart.  Her path was smooth and pleasant for some time;
+she was studious, and improved rapidly.  Roland was her fast friend;
+aiding her in every difficult lesson, and keeping a constant watch
+over the outbreaks of her passionate nature.
+
+Miss Adams was one of Roland's teachers, and had a brother in school
+about his age.  George Adams was a bright boy, but could not compete
+with Roland Bruce; and feelings of jealousy, both on the sister and
+brother's side, were often manifested.  A written examination was to
+take place, which was to decide the question of promotion.  George
+Adams and Roland were in the same class, and had an equal number of
+questions to answer in grammar, geography, and algebra.  Their desks
+were side by side.  Roland had carefully written out all his answers;
+and, as he folded up his manuscripts, he said, with a bright look:
+"There, I have not one blank, nor one blot," and, closing his desk,
+he prepared to go home.  George Adams remained behind, and Madeline,
+having something to do, tarried also.  They left the school-room
+together, and the child, with her accustomed shrewdness, observed
+that George avoided her eye, and passed out without speaking.
+
+Next morning was examination-day--when Roland's turn came, his
+manuscripts were nowhere to be found.  Diligent search was made, but
+in vain.  Miss Adams arose and said:
+
+"It is very strange, Roland; no one would take them from your desk;
+it looks very much like deception."
+
+Roland's eye flashed, as he replied:
+
+"I wrote them all out, and placed them in my desk, yesterday
+afternoon."
+
+In an instant, Madeline Hamilton was on her feet; regardless of the
+presence of Mr. Norton, the assistants, and some of the directors,
+she exclaimed, as she pointed her finger towards the guilty boy:
+
+"I saw him open Roland's desk--Roland Bruce is not a deceiver; there
+is the deceiver!  I know that he was always jealous of him.  I
+watched him as he passed along the road; he scattered pieces of
+paper, I picked them up, there they are," and she handed them to Mr.
+Norton.  Madeline's cheek and eye were burning; but fearless, in the
+defence of her friend, she thought of no one else.
+
+"Madeline has always been the champion of Roland Bruce," said Miss
+Adams; "she certainly forgets who he is; a son of a poor huckster
+woman, who takes truck to market."
+
+"No, I do not forget, Miss Adams, that he is the brightest boy in
+school, has always been a mark to shoot at, and that there is not one
+boy in this school, half as wise and good as Roland."
+
+"Sit down, Madeline," said Mr. Norton; "this matter shall be looked
+into."
+
+The excitement had passed, and the little advocate, over-powered,
+bowed her head upon her desk, and wept convulsively.
+
+Mr. Norton examined the fragments of paper; they were all proved to
+be Roland's.  George Adams was suspended for dishonorable practice;
+and Roland, after another written examination, promoted to the
+highest rank in school.  A practical lesson of the truth of that
+Scripture which declares that, "He who humbleth himself shall be
+exalted, and he that exalteth himself, shall be abased."
+
+"Really," said Lizzie Belton, "I think that Madeline Hamilton makes a
+fool of herself by the fuss she makes over these Bruces; they are
+well enough in their place, but they are no companions for me."
+
+Lizzie had not forgotten her rebuff, nor, since that time, had she
+made any progress towards intimacy with Madeline Hamilton.
+
+After school, Roland hurried over to Madeline.
+
+"I am sorry that you have made such an enemy, Miss Madeline; Miss
+Adams will not forgive you very soon.  If you had only waited until
+school was out; it was such a public exposure."
+
+"I did not think of anything, Roland, but two people; I did not even
+see any body but Roland Bruce, and that mean, contemptible George
+Adams."
+
+"Won't you try to subdue some of your quickness, Miss Madeline?  I
+fear that it will bring you into trouble."
+
+"There is no use, Roland; I have a hot, quick temper, and it makes a
+hasty tongue."
+
+"You are a warm little friend, and I thank you for your kindness to
+one so humble as I, for I am nothing but the son of a very poor
+woman, who has to struggle hard to find her children bread."
+
+"Just to think of that Miss Adams, calling your mother, your good
+mother, a low huckster woman."
+
+"I know that she is not, and I pitied Miss Adams when she made such a
+speech before her scholars; for she hurt herself more than the did my
+dear, precious mother."
+
+"Don't I wish, Roland, that you would live to be a great man;
+wouldn't they all be ashamed of themselves?"
+
+"Don't be troubled, Miss Madeline, I am trying all that I can to be a
+learned and good man; and I know that God will take care of me if I
+am His child, and I humbly hope that I am."
+
+"When you are a great man, you shall come right down here among them,
+and make grand speeches; and won't I be glad to see them all bowing
+to Mr. Roland Bruce, the poor widow's son."
+
+Roland could not help laughing at the little enthusiast, for he was
+but sixteen now, and many a weary year must pass away, and many
+rugged hills be scaled, ere he should figure as a great man among the
+people of Maple Lane school.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+YOUTHFUL VISIONS.
+
+A nest of rocks standing out upon the ocean, around which the waves
+dash with mournful measure, is one of the most inviting retreats for
+the people around Woodcliff.
+
+On this bright summer afternoon, a beautiful dreamer sits upon its
+summit, with eyes turned upward on the rapidly changing clouds.  Ever
+and anon, a smile passes over the young face, as some bright thought
+flits through the teeming fancy.
+
+"Down, Hector, what is the matter?" said the child; but the dog
+continued barking and wagging his tail, as he ran down the side of
+the rock, and bounded along the beach.
+
+Madeline soon saw that her young friend Roland was coming towards
+them, with whom Hector was well acquainted.
+
+"Come up, Roland, it is perfectly splendid," exclaimed the little
+girl, and soon she was joined by her young companion.
+
+"I want you to come and help me watch the clouds.  I don't know if
+you can see as I do, but there is everything that is beautiful this
+afternoon."
+
+"Look there, Roland! see that white-winged angel sailing along so
+softly; but it is fading--it is all gone--it seemed to wave its hand
+to us, bidding us farewell.  Oh! look there at that group of clouds;
+there are soldiers, and banners, and spears flashing--don't you see
+that flag waving so grandly?  Now just see, Roland, the flag has
+turned into a long fish with wings--now don't laugh at me, Roland."
+
+Roland could not but smile at her wild fancies, and replied,
+
+"I ought not to laugh at you, Miss Madeline, for many a beautiful
+picture have I seen on the clouds, and many an odd one in the winter
+fire."
+
+"Don't call me Miss Madeline, Roland; we go to the same school; I am
+younger than you, and I'm sure that you are a great deal wiser and
+better than I.  It sounds so stiff; call me Madeline, or Maddy."
+
+"I'm only a poor boy, very far beneath you, Miss Madeline, and I
+don't think I can take the liberty," answered Roland.
+
+"Well, I won't answer you, Roland.  If my father is a rich man, I'm
+only a little girl."
+
+"Look there, Madeline! that is a very black cloud.  I think that we
+shall soon have a storm."
+
+"I'm not afraid of a storm; I rather like to see the lightning flash,
+and to hear the distant thunder; but I don't much like the thoughts
+of being wet."
+
+The clouds thickened rapidly; thunder began to rumble in the
+distance, and some large drops fell around them.
+
+"Had we not better turn our steps homeward?" asked Roland.
+
+"I think not," was the quick reply, "I have a fancy for seeing this
+storm."
+
+"Is there any shelter, Madeline?"
+
+"Yes, there is an old fisherman's hut among the next nest of rocks.
+We can go there."
+
+Quickening their pace, Roland took Madeline's hand, and hurried her
+rapidly along, for the wind was now blowing at a fearful rate.
+
+They were soon sheltered in old Peter's cabin, and the children stood
+at the door, watching the storm.  It was a grand sight, but not more
+so than the little enthusiast, who stood with parted lips, eyes
+turned upward, and her long ringlets waving wildly in the wind,
+gazing entranced on the war of the elements, and looking the very
+genius of the ocean.  The waves dashed in foaming spray against the
+rocks; the sea gulls in large flocks flew low down, skimming the
+white caps of the crested billows, which chased each other out on the
+stormy ocean, the birds screaming as if inspired by the spirit of the
+storm.  The lightning flashed, the thunder roared, and the rain now
+fell in torrents.  Poor Hector was sadly frightened, and cowering at
+Madeline's feet, continued whining so long as the storm lasted.
+
+It raged furiously for one hour.  When it subsided, the sun once more
+appeared in his setting glory, shining on the still falling rain
+drops, painting a rainbow on the clouds which spanned the ocean.
+Further up the beach, the town of L---- lay in the sunlight, and
+reflected on the window-panes, the whole town glittered as though
+each house was decked with diamonds.
+
+Madeline clapped her little hands with delight.  "Was there ever
+anything so beautiful?"
+
+"Look, Maddy!" said Roland, "at those clouds piled up so grandly;
+they look like the snow-clad Alps that hang in your father's library."
+
+"See how the sun glistens on the top of them, Roland; it looks just
+as if the light came right down from the palace in the skies, and as
+if the angels stood in crowds on the mountain tops, looking down upon
+us."
+
+"We don't know, Maddy, how many of the shining ones may be there; for
+the Bible tells us that they are ministering spirits, sent down to
+minister to God's people."
+
+"Look, Roland, at that bird; it seems to fly right round the top of
+that mountain-cloud.  See how its white breast shines in the
+sunlight!  Did you ever wish you were a bird?  Wouldn't I like to see
+as much as that bird sees now, so far above the earth."
+
+"Did you ever see a mountain, Maddy?" inquired Roland.
+
+"No, I have not; I have often looked at papa's pictures, and wished
+that I could climb up one of the mountains of Switzerland."
+
+"I have seen mountains, Maddy, so grand! so dark! so rugged!  I
+suppose that the mountains of Scotland are not so beautiful as those
+of Switzerland; they are so dark and gloomy, and those deep ravines
+which lie among them are so terrible.  I have walked there after
+sunset, and heard the thunder echoing from cliff to cliff, while the
+wild birds screamed as they flew to their mountain eyry."
+
+"Were you not afraid, Roland, to be there all alone?"
+
+"I was not alone, Maddy, my uncle used to take me, for I was a little
+boy; but I shall never forget the fear which I have felt among those
+heather-clad mountains; I used to cling so tightly to his hand, for I
+was filled with solemn awe."
+
+"I wonder if I shall ever see a mountain, Roland?"
+
+"I dare say that by-and-bye your father will show you all these
+wonders."
+
+"How long since you were in Scotland, Roland?" asked Madeline.
+
+"It is now seven years.  My father was a very sad, strange man,
+Maddy, and he took a sudden fancy to come over to America; my mother
+was a minister's daughter, her name was Mary Gordon; she lived with
+my grandfather at the manse even after she was married."
+
+"What is a manse, Roland?"
+
+"A manse is a Scotch name for a parsonage; it was a pleasant little
+home, situated in a hamlet, at the foot of the mountains, not far
+from my grandfather's kirk."
+
+"What is a kirk, Roland?"
+
+"A kirk is a Scotch name for a church.  There was a lake not far from
+our house, and many a time did Uncle Alick take us children out in
+the boat; sometimes we would cross the lake, and pay visits to our
+neighbors.  Once he told me that he was going to show me a place that
+I must never forget; he said that we should be gone all day; so my
+mother, Effie, Uncle Alick and I started with our little basket of
+provisions.  We crossed the lake, and made our way up the sides of
+the mountain; at length, we commenced descending, and soon found
+ourselves in a thickly shaded glen, covered with a heavy sward of
+rich green grass.  We stopped under a large old tree, and after we
+had been seated awhile in silence, my mother said: 'Roland, do you
+see that old ruin behind that clump of trees?'  'I see a pile of
+stones and an old chimney, mother,' I replied.  'There lived our
+ancestor, the old pastor of Glencoe.  His name was David Gordon; he
+lived in those dreadful days when men were hunted like wild beasts
+for conscience' sake--your great ancestor was a holy man, and had
+bound his soul by the solemn "League and Covenant," not to submit to
+the tyranny of the English Church.  He was the father of a large
+family, and was a faithful shepherd of the flock of Christ.  Many a
+time, when those bloody troopers were in hot pursuit, did this aged
+man of God, at the head of his little flock of parishioners, sally
+out at night, marching over the wild moors and up the steep mountain
+sides, seeking shelter in the caves of these old hills.'
+
+"'Who was king then, mother?' I inquired.
+
+"'Charles the First; and who, though a good husband and father, was a
+bigoted and tyrannical king.'
+
+"'Did he hurt God's people?' I asked.
+
+"'He let his soldiers persecute and kill them.  Their blood cried to
+Heaven against him, and deeply were they avenged.'
+
+"'Then I'll never love the Church of England, mother,' and my little
+heart burned within me.  'But, mother, you were going to tell me a
+story.'
+
+"'Yes, Roland, I want to show you how strong the old pastor of
+Glencoe was when called to suffer for God.  One day, his eldest son,
+Gilbert, had gone away from home on an errand that would bring him
+back late in the evening; and David Gordon, his wife, and
+granddaughter, Lilian, were left at home.  Suddenly, they heard the
+sound of horses' hoofs, and they knew that their day had come.  In a
+very few minutes, a company of troopers appeared in the green before
+the manse; dismounting, they fastened their horses to the neighboring
+trees; the captain, entering the manse, dragged old David Gordon from
+his study, and bade him prepare for death.
+
+"'Down on your knees, you old canting hypocrite!' said the hardened
+man; 'you have but a minute to prepare for death.'
+
+"'Just let me hae a few minutes for prayer,' said the old Christian;
+and, kneeling down, he raised his eyes to Heaven, while his white
+hair floated in the cool breeze, and ought to have softened the
+hearts of those cruel men.
+
+"'In another minute his faithful wife, the companion of fifty years,
+knelt by his side.
+
+"'I am wi' ye, David, whatever is yer fate; I will be wi' ye; and the
+blessed Saviour, who strengthened the martyr Stephen, will stan' by
+his weak disciples.'
+
+"'Hold your clatter, you old beldame; see if your God will come to
+save you from the bullets when they are sent.'
+
+"'How lang, O Lord! holy an' true, shall the wicked triumph?'
+breathed out old David.  'Wilt thou leave us forever? hae mercy, O
+Lord! upon our enemies; turn the heart o' Charles Stuart to thysel.'
+
+"'Do you dare to speak the name of the king?' shouted the trooper, at
+the same time pointing to the band that stood waiting his orders.
+
+"'Planting themselves opposite to the kneeling pair, they commenced
+loading their carbines; and, just as they prepared to fire, a young
+creature, not more than sixteen, rushed from the manse, and throwing
+herself upon the bosom of her grandfather, stretched forth one
+pleading hand, exclaiming,
+
+"'Oh! spare his grey hairs; he has ne'er harmed ye! he has done
+naething but guid a' the days o' his life, an' if ye kill him, his
+bluid will call frae the ground against ye at the judgment-day.'
+
+"'Take her away,' shouted the Captain; 'the old parson must die.'
+
+"'I will na gae!  I will na leave my dear auld grandfather; an' ye
+can na hae the heart to kill us a',' answered Lilian, in her innocent
+trust.
+
+"'Fire, men!' shouted the Captain, and in another minute, the sharp
+report of a dozen guns, echoing through the glen, sending their
+deadly bullets among the kneeling group, released the souls of the
+aged pastor, his faithful wife, and sweet Lilian Gordon, covered with
+the blood of her aged grand-parents.  She lay on the green sward, and
+even those fierce soldiers were touched when they looked at the pale
+face of the beautiful girl, around which hung in rich profusion those
+golden locks, stained with her life-blood, as it oozed quietly away.
+
+"'She might have gone away,' said one of the troopers; 'we didn't
+want to kill her or the old woman; it was their own fault.'
+
+"'All this fearful scene had been witnessed by a faithful servant,
+who had hidden herself in a loft, where, trembling and overpowered
+with grief, she had seen and heard all.
+
+"'When Gilbert Gordon returned in the evening, what was his horror to
+see his father, mother and only daughter weltering in their blood on
+the green sward in front of the manse!
+
+"'With the assistance of a few mourning parishioners, by the light of
+the pale moon, they dug a hurried grave, and after a few words of
+solemn prayer from the lips of Gilbert Gordon, they laid away the
+precious remains of the martyred dead in hope of a joyful
+resurrection, placing a small board to mark the place where they
+slept; and when those troubled days were over, an humble tomb-stone
+marked the very spot where they lay down their lives for Jesus.
+
+"'Go, read it, Roland,' said my mother; 'and never forget that the
+blood of martyrs flows in your veins.  Always be strong for the
+right, my son; and remember that you are a Gordon as well as a Bruce.'
+
+"I read the inscription on the simple tomb-stone, partially defaced
+by time; the letters were very faint, but I still could read: 'The
+Rev. David Gordon; Janet, his wife; and his granddaughter, Lilian
+Gordon; martyred on the 20th day of October, 1643.  They sleep in
+Jesus.'
+
+"Maddy, I have never forgotten that sacred spot; and so deep was the
+impression that, boy as I was, I felt as if my soul grew larger from
+that day, and as if I would rather suffer anything than dishonor a
+name so sacred as that of Gordon.  I remember every word my mother
+said.  I have thought of the story in the dark hours of the night,
+and have prayed that God would give me such a heroic soul as David
+Gordon's."
+
+Maddy listened to the recital, and all the deep feelings of her
+imaginative nature were stirred to their very depths.  She could
+never again look upon Roland Gordon Bruce with any other feelings
+than those of deepest veneration; for, boy as he was, and poor as he
+was, was he not a descendant of martyrs? and as much of a hero in her
+young fancy, as though he had figured himself upon that bloody sward,
+and as though, instead of occurring in 1643, it had been an event of
+yesterday.
+
+The story had ended--returning to the rock, they took their seat once
+more upon its summit.  The storm had all passed away; the gulls were
+flying to their nests, their white breasts glistening in the bright
+sunlight that now flooded the waters.
+
+"Maddy, I do think that I like storms better than calms.  I like
+everything that brings the grandeur of God before me; there is a
+voice within, Maddy, that answers to the music of a storm."
+
+"I never could tell just how it was, Roland, but I often think just
+as you do, only I never could speak it in words."
+
+"Maddy, our talk to-day has brought back my home in Scotland; and it
+makes me feel sad to think that I am so far away from the land that I
+love.  You ought to hear some of our music, it is so beautiful."
+
+"Won't you sing me one of the songs that you like, Roland?"
+
+"Will you try to sing one with me, Maddy?"
+
+"Yes, I would if I only knew one."
+
+"I will teach you one, Maddy, if you will try-.--I know that you will
+like it;" and Roland dictated the words of the following Scotch song:
+
+  "Scots, wha hae wi Wallace bled!
+  Scots, wham Bruce has often led!
+  Welcome to your gory bed,
+                  Or to victorie!
+
+  "Now's the day, and now's the hour:
+  See the front of battle lour:
+  See approach proud Edward's power--
+                  Chains and slaverie!
+
+  "Wha will be a traitor knave?
+  Wha can fill a coward's grave?
+  Wha sae base as be a slave?
+                  Let him turn and flee!" &c.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+A SCOTCH MATRON.
+
+Mrs. Bruce had seen many sorrows.  She had married Stephen Bruce
+chiefly to please her father.
+
+Early in life she had been betrothed to Malcolm Graham, a young man
+of excellent character, who dearly loved sweet Mary Gordon.  She had
+another suitor, Stephen Bruce, the son of her father's most intimate
+friend; this was the one preferred by her parent.
+
+Malcolm went to sea; the vessel foundered, and his name was among the
+missing.  Mary pined away for two years in sadness and sorrow; at
+length, to please her father, she accepted the hand of Stephen Bruce,
+and made him a faithful wife.
+
+When Roland was about one year old, one stormy winter evening, Mary
+was rocking her child to sleep, singing a sweet cradle hymn, when the
+door of the manse opened suddenly, and Malcolm Graham, her early
+lover, stood before her.  A scene of agony passed--they parted in
+sorrow.
+
+Stephen Bruce, on discovering that Malcolm was still alive, became
+morose, jealous, and at last unkind.  After the birth of Effie, he
+suddenly embarked for America, where he lived with his family for
+several years.  At length, he returned to Scotland on business; the
+vessel in which he sailed for America was wrecked, and nothing was
+ever heard of Stephen Bruce.
+
+In Mrs. Bruce's neighborhood lived a strange woman, named Elsie
+Gibson, a Scotch woman, who had also lived several years in America.
+
+She was a frequent visitor at the widow's cottage, and exhibited a
+mysterious interest in all their affairs.  Soon after the wreck of
+the vessel in which Stephen had sailed, she presented herself at the
+cottage.
+
+"I came to ask for the bairns, Mrs. Bruce," said Elsie.  "We are
+baith Scotch people, and I kenned aboot the Gordons in the auld
+country.  Dinna think me officious; are the bairns weel provided for?"
+
+"Stephen had a good support, Elsie, but it will be some time before I
+can hear from home; then I shall know what is to be done."
+
+Elsie was a strange, solitary woman, associating with no one but Mary
+Bruce.  Sometimes they would miss her from the neighborhood for
+weeks, then suddenly she would make her appearance, always exhibiting
+the same interest in the Bruce family.
+
+In about four months after Stephen's disappearance, a package,
+directed to Mrs. Bruce in an unknown hand, was left at the cottage
+door by a little boy, who as quickly disappeared.  It was found to
+contain fifty pounds, saying that the same would come quarterly from
+her husband's estate.
+
+Mrs. Bruce was amazed.  How could it have come to her?  Why did she
+not receive letters from Scotland?  It was evidently not a foreign
+letter.  She could not fathom the mystery.  On the following day
+Elsie paid her accustomed visit.
+
+"How fare the bairns, Mrs. Bruce?  Where is Roland?"
+
+When he stepped forward, Elsie laid her hand upon his head and said,
+with deep emotion,
+
+"God bless you, my bairn, ye're the vera image o' yer father."
+
+"Did you know my father, Elsie?" asked the boy, surprised.
+
+Elsie seemed to recover herself in a minute, and replied, coldly, "I
+hae seen him, Roland."
+
+This time her visit was a short one, and, as she left the house, Mrs.
+Bruce said to her children, "Elsie is a strange woman; I wonder what
+makes her think so much of us?"
+
+Next evening she called again.  They were all seated in the little
+porch enjoying the cool evening air.
+
+"There, mother!" said Effie, "is the boy that brought the package."
+
+"What package?" asked Elsie.
+
+"A strange thing happened day before yesterday, Elsie.  A little boy
+called towards evening and left a note, in an unknown hand, enclosing
+a remittance of fifty pounds from my husband's estate."
+
+Roland was by this time running after the boy, calling to him to
+stop; but he was too quick, and disappeared in the woods close by.
+
+Elsie looked pleased and said,
+
+"I ween that Roland will na catch the lad, he is a swift little
+hare-foot."
+
+"Why, do you know who he is?" asked Mrs. Bruce.
+
+"I dinna say sae, Mrs. Bruce."
+
+Elsie arose hastily and took her leave.
+
+For several years the same mysterious notes came quarterly, but at
+last they entirely ceased.  Elsie Gibson had been absent for months,
+and the family were wondering what had become of their old friend,
+when, one evening, Roland spied the same tartan plaid which Elsie
+always wore, and which distinguished her from all her neighbors.
+
+"Mother, I do believe that Elsie Gibson is coming up the lane,"
+exclaimed Roland, and in a few minutes she opened the door and walked
+in.
+
+Elsie looked sad and careworn.  "I maun sit me doon, Mrs. Bruce, for
+I'm a weary body this cauld night," and she took her seat near the
+fire.
+
+"Where have you been so long, Elsie?" asked Mrs. Bruce.
+
+"I hae been far awa', tending on a sick friend; but he's better
+now--that is, better in body, but sore stricken in mind."
+
+"I have had trouble too, Elsie, since we parted.  My quarterly
+allowance has all stopped, and I must look around for means of
+support."
+
+Elsie looked concerned; a deeper shade passed over her pale features
+as she replied,
+
+"Great changes hae come owre me, Mary, that is, Mrs. Bruce.  I too
+hae lost the wee bit o' money that I had, and I maun gang out to
+service."
+
+"I am sorry, Elsie, but I hope you know the blessedness of looking up
+in the midst of all the sorrows of this life; if we have a home
+above, we need not mind the trials of the way, they will be very
+short compared to the rest beyond."
+
+"Sometimes, Mrs. Bruce, I lose sight of the promises, and gang doon
+into the 'Slough of Despair;' then the burden is a heavy load to
+carry.  But there is a storm brewing, and I maun hurry awa'."
+
+Mrs. Bruce helped her on with her tartan, shook her hand warmly, and
+bade her look up in the midst of darkness.
+
+"Guid-night, Mrs. Bruce; may the guid Lord guide and keep us a', and
+prosper his poor servant in her new home; it will na tak meikle to
+find my claithes, and the rest shall go to ane I luve weel; that is
+blessed wark, Mrs. Bruce, a' my puir life is spent for that."
+
+Roland walked with Elsie to the turn of the lane, and as she bade him
+"guid night," she added, "I shall always luve ye weel, Roland, for
+the sake o' ane that's awa'."
+
+Roland returned wondering how it was that they seemed to constantly
+connected with Elsie Gibson--some mysterious links which he could not
+trace, certainly bound them together.
+
+In a short time Elsie obtained a good place, but with the condition
+that once a month she was allowed to be absent for one day, returning
+the next; and thus she had continued for several years, until we
+bring Madeline acquainted with the Bruce family.
+
+* * * * * *
+
+"Good morning, Mrs. Bruce; you are always so busy; don't you get
+tired of working all the time?" asked Madeline, as she entered the
+humble cottage.
+
+"It is better, Miss Madeline, to have too much to do, than too
+little.  I am never so happy as when I am fully occupied; and then I
+am working for my children, and that is always cheerful work."
+
+Madeline looked around the humble room, and thought how neat
+everything looked.  True, there was a rag-carpet on the floor, but
+the simple furniture was well kept; the tins, bright as silver, hung
+upon the wall, the family work was all done, and Mrs. Bruce and Effie
+were busy with their needles.
+
+Effie was a mild, gentle girl, with a pale complexion, light hair,
+and very soft blue eyes, resembling her mother, only not so lovely as
+Mrs. Bruce had been in her youthful days.  It was her delight to
+lessen her mother's cares, for she had a heavy burden to carry; but
+the devotion and love of her children was a sweet cordial to an
+aching heart.
+
+Madeline sat down on a low chair by the side of Mrs. Bruce, and
+throwing off her flat, opened a little basket which she had brought
+with her.
+
+"I hope you will not be offended, Mrs. Bruce, but I've brought you
+some very nice tea and coffee that papa has just received from
+Boston; there is some white sugar, and some rice, too.  I hardly knew
+how to bring it, for you are not like the other people that live in
+the cottages round here; but I hope that you will not be hurt at me;
+we have so much, and I know that you have so little."
+
+Mrs. Bruce dropped her head lower down to hide the tears that would
+start as she replied, "We Scotch people have a great horror, my dear,
+of receiving anything but what we work for; but I'll take the little
+gift to please you, Miss Madeline."
+
+"I am so glad, for I was so afraid that I was not doing exactly what
+would please you, that I really trembled when I got to the door.  I
+don't know how it is, but from the first day that I saw Roland on the
+shore, I knew that he was not a common boy."
+
+Hanging between the windows was a small portrait of a venerable man.
+
+"Whose likeness is that, Mrs. Bruce?" asked the child.
+
+"That is my father's picture.  He was the minister of the parish
+where we lived.  He was a good man, Miss Madeline, but he is now
+among the spirits of the just made perfect."
+
+"How is it, Mrs. Bruce, that you and Roland seem to think so much of
+the world to come?  I never used to hear anybody talk about it until
+I met you."
+
+"Why, my dear child, what should I do with all my cares and sorrows,
+if I had no hope of a better life than this?"
+
+"I don't want any better world, Mrs. Bruce.  I have everything that I
+wish, and more too.  This world is very beautiful to me; I should not
+like to leave it and go down into the dark grave."
+
+"That is the natural feeling of a young heart, Miss Madeline, but the
+day will come when you cannot live without such a hope."
+
+"I don't have many cares, Mrs. Bruce," said Maddy, with a mischievous
+twinkle of her eye.  "I am puzzled a little about the pattern of my
+doll's bonnet, but the greatest trouble just now is, that papa has
+brought down a French governess to teach me French and music.  That
+is not very pleasant, for it takes so much of my time out of school
+that I get tired to death."
+
+"You ought to be very thankful, Miss Madeline, to your father for all
+his kindness and care.  I hope that you will improve your time
+diligently."
+
+"You ought just to see Mademoiselle Fouladoux; she is such a queer
+little person.  I tell you that I have fun with her; she speaks
+broken English, and makes such odd faces when she talks.  She has a
+little lap-dog named Fanfan; she makes as much fuss with her as if
+she were a child--nasty, cross little thing it is!  She must have
+sponge-cake and cream twice a day.  I tell you, Mrs. Bruce, our cook
+gets mad enough.  I wish the little cur was in the ocean.  What do
+you think? she sleeps in the bed with Mademoiselle!  Just think of
+that! a dog in the same bed with a lady!" and Madeline threw herself
+back, and laughed heartily at the thought.
+
+"I hope you do not tease Mademoiselle, Miss Madeline?" answered Mrs.
+Bruce.
+
+"Tease Mademoiselle!  Not much!" answered the child, with a roguish
+smile upon her dimpled face.  "Only when she gives me a hard lesson,
+I give her a hard one back by pulling Fanfan's tail, or boxing her
+ears slily; and then Mademoiselle rolls up her eyes, and cries out,
+'Oh! ma petite mignon, ma pauvre petite Fanfan!' and then she takes
+up the horrid thing, with its sore eyes, and kisses it.  Just think
+of kissing a lap-dog."
+
+"Try to be a good girl, Miss Madeline; it is a hard task for a young
+lady that has a good home to go out to teach.  If you'll only think
+of that, I am sure that you will be kind to Mademoiselle!"
+
+"I'm not a good girl, Mrs. Bruce.  I'm not used to thinking whether a
+thing is right or wrong; nobody ever said much to me about it but
+Roland.  I am sorry to be bad when it grieves Roland, for he is such
+a good boy.  I do believe that he is a Christian.  Where is he
+to-day, Mrs. Bruce?"
+
+"He has gone to market with the vegetables; he always goes on
+Saturday, for he saves his mother all the labor that he can."
+
+"How does he go?  Has he a little cart?" asked Madeline.
+
+"One of the neighbors lends him an old cart and horse, that is too
+old to be used by the family; but it makes Roland feel badly, because
+he is afraid that the poor horse is too old to work."
+
+"Is that all you have to live on, Mrs. Bruce?"
+
+"No, my dear, I sew and knit for several of the neighbors."
+
+"I think we can send you some work.  Aunt Matilda often wants some
+one to do plain sewing."
+
+Mrs. Bruce loved the warm-hearted little girl, and pitied her
+motherless condition.  She saw countless weeds springing up in the
+heart of the child, and resolved to try to scatter seeds of truth
+around her.
+
+"What are you making, Effie?" inquired Madeline.
+
+"I am making a shirt for George Belton, Miss Madeline.  I made two
+last week."
+
+"Why, how in the world did you do that, Effie? go to school every
+day, learn your lessons, and make two shirts!"
+
+"I rise very early in the morning, and sew two hours before school; I
+study as much as I can in school; and I sew all my leisure time."
+
+"That's what makes you look so pale, Effie; what a pity that you have
+to work so hard!"
+
+"I don't feel it, Miss Madeline; my mother has been so good and kind
+to me, that I am only too glad to help her now."  And Effie's blue
+eyes were turned upon her mother's face, with a look full of filial
+love.
+
+"Well, I must go now.  I learn good lessons here, Mrs. Bruce; you'll
+let me come and see you often--may I?"
+
+"You are always welcome, Miss Madeline, for I love you for your
+goodness to my dear children."
+
+"Good-bye, ma'am;" and Madeline Hamilton touched the hand of Mrs.
+Bruce with more real respect, than she felt for most of the circle of
+rich friends who visited at Woodcliff.
+
+"Aunt Matilda, don't you want some plain sewing done?" said Maddy, as
+soon as she entered the house, for her little brain was teeming with
+plans of how she might do good to the Bruce family.
+
+"I think we do," was the answer.  "I want some bed linen made up; our
+stock is getting low, and I was wondering whom I would get to do the
+work."
+
+"Mrs. Bruce will do it, aunty; she is such a nice woman, and such a
+good sewer; and then she is so good, and so poor."
+
+"You may tell her, Madeline, to come up to-morrow, or next day; the
+work is all cut out; I should like her to have it."
+
+Maddy hurried off early in the morning on her errand of love, tripped
+in so merrily, regardless of the dew upon the grass, so eager was she
+to carry good news.  Roland was at home, and met Madeline with a
+respectful manner that seemed very cold to our little girl.  Handing
+her the best chair, he bade her sit down, for this was the first time
+that he had ever welcomed her to his bumble home.
+
+"Aunt Matilda wants you, Mrs. Bruce, to send for the work to-day; she
+has it all cut out, and wants you to do it all."
+
+"I'll come up for it, Miss Madeline," answered Roland; "we are so
+much obliged to you for your goodness."
+
+Maddy began to laugh.  "I thought, Roland, that we made a bargain a
+little while ago; have you forgotten that you were to call me
+Madeline?"
+
+"I don't think that it would be very proper for one who comes to your
+house to get work for his mother, to take such a liberty with the
+heiress of Woodcliff."
+
+"Good-bye, Mrs. Bruce," said the child, and away she ran.
+
+"Mother, I cannot bear to see you work so hard," said Roland; "and
+then dear Effie looks so pale, her step is so languid.  Try, mother,
+to look up to Heaven, hoping and trusting; but everything looks so
+dark around us."
+
+"You must not say so, my son; the promises of God are 'yea and amen
+in Christ Jesus;' we believe that we are his children;' 'all things
+shall work together for good to those who love God;' let us keep our
+eyes upward, my dear boy; God is there, Roland--Jesus is there--our
+home is there."
+
+"There is not much for us here, dear mother."
+
+"Don't forget, my son, the blood that flows in your veins, the blood
+of Christian heroes; do not be unworthy of them, Roland.  I gave you
+to God as soon as you were born, my child; I have trained you for
+Him; He has work for you, my son--I am certain of that.  Just trust
+Him; look upward, Roland, and you will see everything that is noble
+and holy.  Don't keep your eyes upon the earth; that will draw your
+soul downward.  There is a great deal to live for, Roland; God will
+lead you to some high and holy destiny, if you will only trust Him."
+
+  "Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
+    But trust him for his grace;
+  Behind a frowning Providence,
+    He hides a smiling face."
+
+
+"You have cheered me, dear mother; what should I do without you?"
+answered the boy.
+
+The next morning, Roland went to Woodcliff for the work.  Madeline
+was not at home, and Roland was not sorry; for he felt that it was
+humbling to be there on such an errand.  The feeling was a wrong one,
+but Roland was a proud boy, though a poor one.  There was no little
+confusion in his soul on that day.  He was performing a filial duty,
+that he knew; he was doing nothing that he ought to be ashamed of,
+and yet the pride of his heart did rise up against the humiliation of
+menial service, in the sight of Madeline.
+
+Not far from Roland's home lay the village church-yard, whither the
+inhabitants of the country around often resorted.  It was a charming
+spot, beautifully kept, and adorned with shrubbery, fine trees, and a
+variety of exquisite flowers.  Many of Mrs. Bruce's lessons to her
+children were taught in that rural cemetery on Sunday evening, after
+the services of the day were over.
+
+On the following Sunday, Roland strayed thither alone.  He had not
+been there long, before Madeline entered, with Hector for her only
+companion.  Roland joined the child.
+
+"This is a beautiful place, Miss Madeline," remarked the boy.
+
+Maddy put her fingers on her lips with rather an arch expression, as
+she said:
+
+"I will not talk to you, if you call me Miss."
+
+Roland smiled, and continued, "Very well then, I suppose that it must
+be Madeline."
+
+"Come with me, Roland; I want to show you my mother's grave," and
+Madeline led her companion to a secluded corner of the cemetery,
+where stood a splendid monument, on which was inscribed, "Sacred to
+the memory of Julia, the beloved wife of Lewis Hamilton, who departed
+this life June 16th, 1837."  The enclosure was beautifully laid out
+and adorned with choice flowers, and over the monument bent the
+branches of a noble tree.
+
+"Was your mother a Christian, Madeline?" asked the boy.
+
+"I do not know, Roland; I was too young to remember anything; I hope
+that she was."
+
+"Do you ever think of dying, Madeline?" asked her friend.
+
+"Not often, Roland; it is too dreadful to think of the dark and
+gloomy grave.  I would rather think of living, Roland, in this bright
+world."
+
+"Mother never lets me call it gloomy, Maddy; she says that it is only
+the gate which opens into heaven; and since Jesus hath lain there
+himself, she says that none who believe in him need be afraid."
+
+"Do you believe in him, Roland?" asked the child.
+
+"Yes, Maddy, I do with all my heart, and love him, too; and all I
+want is to serve him here on earth, and live with him forever."
+
+"How long, Roland, is it since you have thought about these good
+things?" asked the little girl.
+
+"Ever since I was a very little boy, Maddy.  I remember when I was so
+small that I could scarcely talk plain, that my mother used to lay
+her hand upon my head, and ask the dear Saviour to bless her boy.
+Then, when I was older, she used to take me every night to bed, and
+that was the time when she led my young heart up to Heaven.  She has
+had many trials, Maddy; but she is always happy, for she is always
+looking up, and she tries to make me just as hopeful."
+
+"I wish that I had such a mother, Roland; nobody ever talks so to me.
+Aunt Matilda taught me the catechism and the creed, but it was just
+like saying parrot words; I do not know what they mean.  I believe in
+Jesus, but not the way you do.  I believe more in Roland, I think!"
+and the child smiled.
+
+"Why; what do you mean, Maddy?"
+
+"Why when I want to do something wrong, I don't ask, how would Jesus
+like it; but I often ask, how would Roland like it?"
+
+"Just pray, Maddy, every night, 'Open thou mine eyes,' and 'Lead me
+to the rock that is higher than I.'"
+
+"What is that rock, Roland?"
+
+"That rock is Christ, Maddy; if we keep our hearts fixed on him, we
+shall walk in the blessed way safely."
+
+While talking thus, Elsie Gibson joined them.
+
+"What are ye talking aboot, children?" asked the woman.
+
+"Roland was showing me how to find the blessed way, Elsie."
+
+"He can lead you, Miss Madeline; he has a holy mother, he is a chiel
+o' prayer; and his ancestors were maist o' them holy men.  In the
+bloody days that tried men's souls, Roland's race was foremost in
+bearing their testimony to gospel truth."
+
+"You like Roland, Elsie, don't you?"
+
+"Yes, my little bairn, I luve him for his ain, and for his father's
+sake.  I kenned his father, Miss Madeline, when I wore the snood o' a
+Scottish maiden."
+
+"Wasn't his father a relation of the great Bruce, Elsie?  I have
+often thought so, but Roland laughs at me."
+
+"I dinna ken, Miss Madeline, for ye ken that was mony years syne, and
+we canna find kinship back so far awa'."
+
+"Elsie, is Roland's father really dead? sometimes I think that he may
+be alive yet;" asked the child suddenly, fixing an earnest look upon
+Elsie Gibson's face.
+
+The question was evidently unexpected, but after a moment's silence,
+Elsie replied:
+
+"The vessel was lost, Madeline, and it has aye been said that ilka
+soul went doon."
+
+The shadows of the setting sun were deepening, and Maddy, Roland, and
+Elsie walked together to the widow's cottage.
+
+Mrs. Bruce invited Maddy in.
+
+"Will you take a seat among us this evening, Madeline?  It is the
+time of our family worship."
+
+Maddy sat down on a low chair by the side of Mrs. Bruce, much sobered
+by the conversation in the cemetery.
+
+Reverently the mother read the sacred volume, and after singing a
+Sabbath evening hymn, in the words of solemn prayer, she addressed
+the throne of grace, commending all her dear ones to the care of the
+Good Shepherd, not forgetting the little girl who knelt with the
+humble family around that altar of domestic piety.  It was the first
+time that Madeline had ever joined in such an exercise, and she was
+deeply impressed by the sweet and soothing worship.
+
+It was so different from her own domestic circle, that Madeline could
+not but muse deeply on her way home; and, unconsciously to herself,
+from this moment really commenced the germ of that life which, though
+smothered for awhile, still the seed, perhaps smaller than the grain
+of mustard seed, was planted, which would hereafter lead the warm
+young soul upward, heavenward.  Ever looking aloft was the load-star
+at the widow's cottage, around which revolved all their plans, all
+their hopes.  Perhaps wild little Mad-cap, attracted by the same
+power, may also learn to look aloft from even the dangerous heights
+of Woodcliff.
+
+Effie's feeble health called for many little comforts which Mrs.
+Bruce could not afford; but ever and anon the tripping feet of
+Madeline Hamilton, or a basket of delicacies brought by Nanny, made
+large demands upon the gratitude of the widow's family.
+
+"Don't thank me, Mrs. Bruce," Maddy would often say; "Roland is so
+good to me, is so kind at school, and teaches me so much, that I
+cannot feel that I ever do enough in return for you."
+
+It was, indeed, a strange sight to behold this little girl, usually
+so ungovernable, yielding to the slightest check from Roland; for she
+really respected the boy, who carried out his principles.
+
+Occasionally her wild spirits would burst forth, and an innate love
+of teasing led her to play jokes, even upon her friend Roland.  Fear
+of ridicule was his weakness; he could not bear to be laughed at; he
+was almost ashamed to own it, but it was really a fact.  Brave in
+other respects, he was really a coward here, and Maddy discovered it.
+
+Woe to Roland, when her mischievous fits were upon her!
+
+"Who is there, Nanny?" asked the child, perceiving that some one was
+in the hall.
+
+"A boy wants to see you, Miss Madeline; he has something for you."
+
+"Oh, Roland, is it you? come into the parlor."
+
+Nanny looked surprised, but Roland stepped in, and, taking off his
+cap, seated himself respectfully.  He looked as if he really belonged
+to the parlor of Woodcliff; his whole bearing was so manly and
+self-possessed.
+
+"Madeline, I have something for you.  You know how often we have
+admired the sea-weed together; for a long time I have been gathering
+the most beautiful specimens that I could find, and mother has been
+drying it, and together we have arranged it in a book."
+
+Roland opened the pages, and Madeline's joy was unbounded.
+
+"Oh, how beautiful!  How did you ever do it, Roland?  They look like
+the most lovely flowers.  Stop, Roland!  I'll get our microscope,"
+and away she flew.
+
+"Look!  Roland, look!  I never saw anything so sweet.  It is the most
+charming present I ever had in all my life."
+
+"I have some shells too, Madeline, but they are not very rare; but
+such as I could gather I have brought.  I am so glad that you are
+pleased."
+
+"I have nothing that I shall think so much of as these.  Your dear,
+kind mother, with all her cares, could remember little Mad-cap; and,
+Roland, it was so sweet to bring me just what I admire so much.  I
+shall keep them all the days of my life, to remember Roland and his
+mother."
+
+It was really an exquisite little book, arranged with the most
+delicate taste, and when Aunt Matilda was called in to see the gift,
+she was quite struck with the evidences of refinement visible in
+every page of these beautiful sea-weeds.
+
+"I have something else, Madeline," and Roland brought out a tasty
+little moss basket, the gift of dear Effie.
+
+That evening found Madeline running down to the widow's cottage to
+thank her for the gift.
+
+"Thank you, dear, darling Mrs. Bruce, for your beautiful present,"
+exclaimed the impulsive child, throwing her arms around her, and
+showering kisses upon her pale face.  "I shall keep it as long as I
+live, for I have nothing that I shall value like these beautiful
+weeds."
+
+"I am glad that you are pleased, Madeline; it made us so happy to
+arrange them for you."
+
+"How could you find time to think of little Mad-cap, with all your
+cares and troubles, dear Mrs. Bruce?"
+
+"How could you, Miss Madeline, surrounded by all the elegance of
+Woodcliff, find time to think of us in our humble cottage?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE COTTAGE AND THE HALL.
+
+There are sorer battles than those waged on the field of strife,
+where the old and the new man contend in a human heart; and such had
+Roland fought on the morning of this day.  He thought that he had
+conquered, and with a brave spirit and cheerful countenance, he
+started for Woodcliff with the bundle of work which his mother had
+completed.  When he came in sight of the Hall his courage began to
+fail, for on the porch were several of Madeline's young
+acquaintances.  Roland recognized Mary James, Minnie Scott, and Ella
+Taylor, all schoolmates, but who had little to do with the Bruces.
+
+"What ails me?" said Roland to himself; "is it possible that I am so
+wanting in manliness, as to fear the ridicule of those silly girls?
+Down at once with the feeling; poverty is nothing to be ashamed of;"
+and Roland hastened on with a firm step and head erect.
+
+"You seem to have a heavy load, Roland," said Mary James; "have you
+garden truck in your basket?"
+
+"No, Miss; I do not carry my vegetables around, we sell them in
+market."
+
+"Perhaps you are coming for old clothes, Roland; you look as if you
+wanted some," remarked Minnie Scott.
+
+"If you'll come round to our house, we can give you some," sneered
+Mary James.
+
+Poor Roland was sorely tried; his clothes were very shabby, for it
+had been a long time since his mother had been able to buy him
+any--patched pantaloons and worn-out shoes indicated his poverty.
+His cheeks were crimson, and his eyes flashed indignation, but he
+took no farther notice of the insulting remarks, or of the titter
+which passed round among the girls.
+
+"For shame, Mary!" exclaimed Madeline; "have you no feeling?  Roland
+is my friend, and shall be respected here."
+
+By this time the boy had advanced to the piazza, and Madeline called
+for Nanny to come and take the bundles which he had brought.
+Madeline then invited him into the house, and with real delicacy of
+feeling, made no farther allusion to the insolence of the children.
+They entered the drawing-room where Aunt Matilda was seated.
+
+"Aunty, this is my friend, Roland Bruce; he has brought the work
+home."
+
+She bowed stiffly.  "Could you not have taken the boy into the
+sitting-room, Madeline?"
+
+"If those upstarts had not insulted him, perhaps I might have done
+so; but, as it is, I prefer to bring him here."
+
+Madeline was by this time fully roused.  She could not endure that a
+boy of Roland's character should be first insulted by her friends,
+and then by her aunt.  Turning to the latter, she said, "Will you
+please, ma'am, to entertain the young ladies while I shall be engaged
+with Roland?"
+
+"Which are your guests, Maddy, this boy, or the young ladies who have
+come to visit you?"
+
+"Just now this is my guest, Aunt Matilda.  There is no use of arguing
+with me," and with a proud toss of her brown ringlets, she turned to
+the boy who stood a silent listener.
+
+"Come with me, Roland, I have many things to show you," and Madeline
+led the way, while Roland followed, by no means abashed by the
+magnificence which everywhere surrounded the young heiress--velvet
+carpets, lace curtains, rich furniture, splendid paintings, &c., had
+no effect upon the manly boy, who, with a proud step and dignified
+carriage, followed his friend.
+
+First she led him to the library.  "I want you to look around,
+Roland, at the books; here is where I like to come on stormy days,
+when the wind is howling around.  Many an hour I've spent in this
+room."
+
+Roland looked around delighted; he had never seen so many books
+together before.
+
+"Why, Madeline, I should never want any other friends.  Here are
+Cowper, and Milton, and Shakspeare, and our own Burns--and all these
+books of history.  You ought to be a very wise little girl."
+
+"Yes, I know that, Roland; but I have not read the useful books; I
+read novels, and fairy tales, and all kinds of poetry, and aunty says
+they fill my head with nonsense.  Would you like to read some of
+these books, Roland? for I have only to say so to papa, and he would
+lend them to please me."
+
+"I could hardly ask such a thing, Madeline, but if he will, I promise
+to take good care of them, and to keep them covered."
+
+Out of the library into the conservatory, Madeline conducted her
+friend.  Here again Roland was delighted, for dearly did he love
+flowers and all beautiful things.
+
+"How happy you ought to be, Madeline, with such a world of beauty all
+around you."
+
+"Which of these flowers would you rather take home, Roland?" asked
+the child.
+
+His eye roved hastily around, and rested with a smile upon a simple
+purple flower, as he said, "That little mountain heather."
+
+"What! pass by these lovely roses, and take that little flower!"
+
+"Yes, Madeline, I love it best; it is our own Scotch flower, and
+grows all over our dark mountains."
+
+"You shall have a plant to take home to your mother, Roland."
+
+Next she led him up a long staircase and directed him to stand still
+at the head of the first landing; leading him to the window, she
+said, "Hark!  Roland, do you hear any music?"
+
+Roland stood entranced as he listened to the low, plaintive strains
+that came swelling over the strings of an Eolian harp, and as the
+breeze rose higher, louder, wilder, fuller swept the weird sounds
+among the strings.
+
+"How beautiful, Madeline!" exclaimed the boy.
+
+"That's what I call the fairies' concert, Roland; on wild winter
+nights you cannot imagine what that music is like--it puts me in mind
+of Ossian's poetry."
+
+Down the stair-case and out among her pets, next we find our little
+girl.
+
+"Here are my pet doves, Roland; Patty and Jim; they know me now, and
+always begin to coo when I come near them.  And here is my
+canary--but I want you to see Bob," and out into the stable-yard
+trotted Maddy and ran up to a donkey that stood nibbling away at some
+grass.  She patted him on the head, and Bob made a singular noise to
+show his pleasure.
+
+Roland attempted the same liberty, but in a minute, Master Bob kicked
+up his hind legs, and set up a hideous bray.
+
+Maddy laughed heartily, and said, "Bob don't like strangers, Roland;
+but that's the most harm that he ever does."
+
+"They are useful animals, Madeline.  I have often thought that it
+would be such a treasure if I had a cart and donkey; but that I
+cannot get, for we are too poor."
+
+Maddy smiled with a knowing look as she conducted her favorite back
+into the drawing-room, and, finding the coast clear, she described
+the pictures to Roland, and then sat down to the piano, and played
+and sang sweetly,
+
+  "I remember, I remember
+    The house where I was born--
+  The little window where the sun
+    Came peeping in at morn;
+  He never came a wink too soon,
+    Nor brought too long a day;
+  But now I often wish the night
+    Had borne my breath away."
+
+
+"I am much obliged to you, Maddy, for your kindness, but I really
+must go now; I have kept you long enough from your friends," and
+Roland took up his pot of heather to go home.
+
+"Friends, indeed!  Fudge upon such friends!  They have no sense, and
+I don't care for one of them."
+
+Just then, Mademoiselle put her head into the drawing-room door.
+"Oh!  Mademoiselle Madeline, que fait vous?  vous êtes trés impolie,
+voila vos jeunes amis, et vous êtes ici avec ce pauvre garçon."
+
+"Do not faint, Mademoiselle, I know what I am about."
+
+"Que dira Mr. H.?  Lui qui est si Monsieur.  J'ai peur que tu ne
+seras jamais une dame; vous êtes impolie, M'lle.  Venez avec moi!"
+
+Madeline burst out laughing, and whispered to Roland, "She is a poor
+simple thing; I can't help laughing at her."
+
+"Don't, Maddy; she is your teacher, and therefore ought to be
+respected."
+
+"That will do for good people like you; Roland, I can't be so good."
+
+By this time they had left the piazza, and Madeline conducted Roland
+out to the gate, passing Aunt Matilda and the young ladies in the
+avenue.  He raised his cap and bowed gracefully as he took his leave.
+"Good evening, Miss Hamilton, I am sorry to have intruded so long."
+
+"Good evening, sir," replied the lady haughtily.
+
+"Where in the world did he learn to make such a bow as that?" said
+Mary James.
+
+"He was born a gentleman," answered Madeline, "and if he were clad in
+rags, he would carry the same manners everywhere."
+
+"Don't talk such folly, Madeline," said her aunt; "Roland is well
+enough, but he is not a gentleman, nor the son of a gentleman, and no
+associate for Madeline Hamilton.  You make a dunce of yourself, in
+the way that you behave to these people."
+
+"Perhaps so, aunty; but I shall never forget that I am a lady to
+every one."
+
+"You forgot it, Maddy, this afternoon, when you left your young
+friends, to entertain that boy."
+
+Madeline blushed as she replied, "They were so rude, aunty, that I
+could do nothing else."
+
+"Madeline has a remarkable taste," said Ella Taylor; "Roland and
+Effie Bruce are her chief companions at school."
+
+"I choose them for their worth, and because all the rest treat them
+badly," answered Madeline.
+
+"Well, we will not talk any more about it now," said Aunt Matilda;
+"Maddy always has her own way, and there is no use of crossing her
+while Lewis Hamilton is master."
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+"Papa, do you care much about my donkey?" said Maddy that evening to
+her father.
+
+"Why, Mad-cap, what makes you ask that question?"
+
+"Because I am tired of riding about with Bob.  It has been several
+months since I drove him, papa, and I thought that we could put him
+to such good use now."
+
+"Why, what do you want to do with poor Bob, Maddy?"
+
+"It would be such a nice little animal for Mrs. Bruce, papa.  Here,
+we only keep him for amusement, there, he would be so useful.  They
+have to borrow a crazy old cart, and a broken down horse every week
+to go to market, and if they only had a little cart, Bob could take
+their vegetables to market.  Shan't I give him to Mrs. Bruce, papa?"
+
+"Well, Mad-cap, I believe that you would give your head away if it
+were loose; you may do what you please with poor Bob; but what about
+the cart?"
+
+"Why, papa, there's a little cart that he used to drag sometimes; we
+don't use it now."
+
+"Do what you choose, Maddy; it would be a good thing for the widow."
+
+Maddy did not wait a second bidding.  Accordingly, on the next Friday
+afternoon, Bob was geared up to the little cart, and Maddy took her
+seat, full of glee.  He was a perfectly safe animal, and our little
+girl had driven him many a time around the lanes of Woodcliff.
+Madeline drew up to the door of the widow's cottage with a laughing
+countenance.
+
+"Come, Roland and Effie, I want to take you a ride this afternoon;
+jump in; I want to see if you can drive Bob, Roland."
+
+They were soon seated in the little cart.  Bob was rather restive at
+first, for he soon recognized the voice of a stranger; but with
+Madeline's coaxing, they proceeded very well, and had a merry ride.
+
+"Shall I drive you home, Madeline?" asked Roland, after Effie had
+dismounted at the cottage-door.
+
+"No, I believe not, Roland; Bob may as well stay here, for cart and
+donkey are both yours."
+
+"It cannot be, Miss Madeline; the gift is too costly."
+
+"Miss Madeline! here comes Roland's pride again!" answered the child.
+"Bob is of no use to us now; I am tired of driving him about, and
+he's just the animal for you, Roland."
+
+"What a good little friend your are, Maddy!  You are just like some
+kind fairy."
+
+"What a good boy you are, Roland!  You are just like some grown-up
+friend; so you see we are about even after all.  I can give you what
+money can buy, and what will soon be gone; and you give me light,
+knowledge, strength, goodness, Roland, and that money cannot buy; so
+you see at last I can make it out that your gifts are better than
+mine."
+
+This was an invaluable gift to our young friend, for it enabled him
+to go regularly to market without borrowing from his neighbors; and
+it made Madeline very happy to see the sunshine which she had carried
+to the cottage.
+
+Effie was a gentle girl, and all that she could do to show her
+gratitude, was to raise her soft blue eyes to Maddy's face with
+speechless thanks, and to press her hand as they passed into the
+cottage.
+
+"May the good Lord bless you, Miss Madeline, for all your goodness,"
+was the spoken gratitude of Mrs. Bruce.
+
+"It is getting late now, good-bye; I hope that Bob won't be running
+away to his old stable; give him plenty of cabbage or turnip-tops;"
+and, with this injunction, away scampered the child, happier than she
+had ever been in all her life before.
+
+Maddy was nearly right when she said, "we are about even after all,"
+for the influence brought to bear so unconsciously upon her by this
+humble family, was of a character that could not well be measured.
+
+It was a true remark which, in her simplicity, she had uttered, when
+she said, "I believe in Roland."  A word from him was of more avail
+than aught else, in checking her impulsive actions.
+
+On the next Sunday morning, as Roland and Effie were on their way to
+the Sunday-school, whom should they see, smiling at them from the
+carriage window, but Madeline, who was riding out with her Aunt
+Matilda.  Roland hoped that they were going to church; but he had
+some doubts, for he had seldom heard the child speak about the house
+of God.
+
+In the evening they met at the cemetery, for it was a common thing
+for Madeline to walk there on Sunday.
+
+"Where were you going, this morning, Maddy?" inquired her friend.
+
+"Aunty and I were taking a ride to see Mrs. Linden; she has not been
+very well all the week, and she thought that a ride would do her
+good."
+
+"But, Maddy, don't you know that this is God's day, and that we are
+commanded to keep it holy?"
+
+"I have never been taught, Roland, to make much difference; papa
+spends his Sunday mornings in the library; Aunt Matilda often has the
+head-ache, and cannot go out, and then I run off down to the shore
+with Hector, or else take the boat, and paddle about on the lake."
+
+"God did not give us the day of rest for our own pleasure, Maddy; it
+is the day when we ought to think especially of holy things, and
+spend it in such a way as will do our souls good, and please our
+Father in heaven."
+
+"What do you do on Sunday, Roland?"
+
+"We go to the Sunday-school, where we learn about our blessed
+Saviour, and join in singing sweet praises to his holy name; then we
+go to church; and when we come home, dear mother always contrives
+something nicer for dinner than on other days, though remember,
+Maddy, it is prepared the day before; then she explains the Bible to
+us, and tells us some of those old Scotch stories, which we love to
+hear, about the holy men who died for their religion.  Sunday is such
+a sweet day at our little cottage, we are all so close together then,
+and we feel how blessed is the thought that we shall spend our
+heavenly Sabbath together forever and ever."
+
+"Oh, Roland! how different you are from us at Woodcliff.  I get so
+tired of running about; I get tired of reading; I have no one to
+speak to, and we don't go to church more than once in every few
+weeks.  I run out in the kitchen and talk to our old cook, then I go
+talk to my pets, then I run into the library and read a little, but
+all the time, Roland, I want something that I cannot find."
+
+"I wonder if your father would let you come to our Sunday-school?"
+
+"I'll ask him, Roland; what do you do there?"
+
+"We learn Bible lessons, hymns, and catechism; we have such kind,
+excellent teachers; and once a month we have missionary meetings."
+
+"I should think that it was very stupid to hear nothing all the time,
+but solemn talk about death and judgment."
+
+Roland smiled.  "We hear of something else, Maddy; about the blessed
+Saviour, the friend of sinners, and about that happy land where
+Christians hope to go."
+
+Maddy turned an earnest look upon Roland's face.
+
+"How do you _know_, Roland, that all these things are true?  How do
+you _know_ that the Bible is really God's word?  Papa has some books
+in his library, by great men, who don't believe the Bible."
+
+"The Bible not true, Maddy!  I know but little of the reasons which
+prove it to be God's own word; but it would take me hours to tell you
+even what I know, there are so many things which prove it true.  It
+tells about so many things which were to happen hundreds of years
+before they occurred, and they came exactly as the Bible said they
+would.  It told that there would be a flood, and the flood came; we
+know that, not only from the Bible, but from other old histories, and
+from the sayings of many ancient nations.  Who could tell but God,
+what was going to come to pass, Maddy?"
+
+The child sat with a serious face turned towards Roland, as she
+replied, "I cannot answer that, Roland."
+
+"It has also foretold the fate of wicked nations, of Babylon, of
+Jerusalem, of Sodom and Gomorrah; and just as it declared, has it
+happened.  It told of Jesus, when, where, and how he should be born;
+and just so he came--and, Maddy, there is a voice in all our hearts,
+that wants something better than we can have here, something that
+will last forever.  The good Father knows that, Maddy, for he put
+within us that immortal soul that longs for immortal joys; and then
+he sent us down from heaven these precious letters, which tell us of
+just such a state beyond the grave.  These letters were sent to God's
+own servants at different times, and gathered together in the days of
+King James, and made into the book which we call the Bible."
+
+"I suppose, Roland, that the voice which you speak of, is that which
+makes me sometimes feel so tired of everything, although I have so
+much; yet I am always wanting something that I have not got."
+
+"That's what you want, Maddy; a heart at peace with God, through
+Jesus Christ our Lord."
+
+Madeline wore a very serious face, as she turned to leave her
+mother's grave, where she had been sitting; and, plucking a flower
+from one of the plants, she said:
+
+"Roland, I'll go with you to Sunday-school; I want to know more about
+these good things."
+
+"I am afraid that your father will not want you to go among the
+people of our church, we are not of the same sect as he."
+
+"Why, you know, Roland, I can coax him to anything; and though Aunt
+Matilda is very bigoted in her notions, he won't mind what she says,
+if I want to go."
+
+Saturday evening came, and Maddy, mounting her father's lap, said,
+
+"Papa, what would you give to know what I have in this paper?" (and
+folding her hands tight over the package, she turned her beaming face
+upon her father).  "Before I open it, I want you to promise me
+something--it is something very good, papa; just say I shall have it,
+and then I'll show what I have for you."
+
+Papa smiled upon his little daughter, as he said, "I should like to
+know what it is before I promise."
+
+"It is, indeed, papa, something very good--just say yes; that's a
+dear, good papa."
+
+"Very well, Maddy, I say yes--now open the paper."
+
+Bending over her package, she opened just a small portion, and
+holding it up before her father, said, with an arch expression on her
+bright young face,
+
+"Just peep a little, papa," (and then closing it again,) "now, as
+soon as you give me two sweet kisses, you shall see what I have."
+
+Papa was only too willing to grant the request, and Madeline,
+trembling with delight, said,
+
+"There, papa, see what little Mad-cap has made for you;" and, opening
+wide her package, she produced a pair of beautiful slippers, which,
+after months of labor, she had worked for her father.  It was her
+first piece of work, and quite a triumph of her skill.
+
+"It is a sweet gift, Maddy; I shall be almost too proud of them to
+wear them.  Who would ever have thought of my wild little daughter's
+working a pair of slippers?" and Mr. Hamilton kissed his darling
+child again and again.
+
+"I never should have thought of doing it, papa, but Mrs. Bruce told
+me that I ought to do something for my kind father; and she showed me
+how to work them.  Come, papa, put out your foot, let's try them on;
+why they fit beautifully; I am so glad!"
+
+"And now, what does my little daughter want?"
+
+"Why, papa, just let me go to Roland Bruce's Sunday-school.  I get so
+tired on Sunday.  Half the time Aunt Matilda does not go to church,
+and I have to wander about all day, tired of everything."
+
+"Brother, will you let the child go there?  They are not of our
+church; she will learn all kinds of puritanic notions; I really think
+she ought to be brought up in the religion of her parents."
+
+"And so do I, Matilda, most emphatically; but if you do not attend to
+that yourself, and she must either lounge about the house all day,
+rove up the sea-shore, and among the lanes and woods, or go to
+Sunday-school with the Bruces, where she can occupy her busy mind
+with something good, I think the latter is to be preferred.  You can
+go, my daughter, if it promotes your happiness."
+
+"She will have no associates of her own class, if you allow this
+intimacy."
+
+"She's only a child, Matilda; future years will regulate all that."
+
+"We shall see, brother; I am afraid that you will repent of the step."
+
+Maddy had gained the day; and on Sunday morning, off she trotted with
+her friends, the Bruces, with great delight.
+
+The exercises pleased her; fortunately, she was placed under the care
+of a wise and excellent teacher; and Maddy spent the first Sunday
+much to her satisfaction.
+
+But with all these influences, she was still the same mischief-loving
+child as ever.  Old Betty, the cook, Nanny, her own maid in the
+kitchen, Mademoiselle in the school-room, and Aunt Matilda in the
+parlor, were all in turn the subjects of her practical jokes.
+
+The first of April bad arrived, and her little brain was busy with
+its plans.  Early in the morning, Roland received a note in printed
+letters, stating that if he would go down to the sea-shore in the
+afternoon, and walk up to old Peter's cabin, then down to the rock,
+he would find something hanging on the flag-staff to his advantage.
+
+He had entirely forgotten that it was the first of April, and his
+curiosity being awakened, he started off early in the afternoon, and
+followed the directions given.  When he reached the rock, hanging to
+the flag-staff was a package directed to him, which he commenced
+opening; after removing many envelopes, he found a short note,
+directing him to take the donkey and go to the next town, stopping at
+the post-office, where he would find further directions, and with the
+injunction to be sure and not neglect the hint.  Accordingly, he
+went; when reaching there, he found a large and heavy package,
+directed in the same manner.  On opening it, it contained a brick,
+very carefully covered in a number of newspapers, with directions to
+go to the woods near Maple Lane school, and under the large oak-tree
+by the door, he would find a spot marked by a board with R.G.B.
+printed on it; on digging it up, he would find the object of his
+search.
+
+Roland followed the direction; and, after much digging, found a box
+directed as the rest; on opening of which he drew out a small toy
+bagpipe, with the direction, "For Roland when he visits the
+Highlands."  Just as he was examining the toy, out sprang Maddy, and
+making a low courtesy, said--
+
+"It is the first of April, Roland; I hope you are not very tired."
+
+It was the first time that she had seen him displeased.  He did not
+smile, for his time was very precious, and he had wasted the whole
+afternoon with Madeline's folly.
+
+"I am sorry, Miss Madeline, that you saw fit to send me on such a
+chase.  It will do for rich people to waste their time--I have
+something else to do."
+
+"I was only in fun, Roland; I did not think that it would make you
+angry."
+
+"I never could bear to be laughed at, and then I had something very
+particular to do for my mother.  It was not kind to serve me such a
+trick."
+
+"I did not know that you were such a touchy boy, Roland.  I don't
+think that you need make such a fuss about a trifle."
+
+"I can't help it; I never could take a joke.  Good-bye," and Roland
+mounted his donkey, and rode away without another word.
+
+Poor little Maddy! she had not thought of such an end to her sport,
+and her proud spirit was fully aroused.  She knew that she had done
+nothing very wrong, and felt really angry at Roland for his conduct.
+She thought that it was foolish, and determined to make no further
+apology.  He might go with his Scotch pride for all that she cared;
+and with one hand, she haughtily tossed her curls, but with the
+other, wiped away tears that would fall in spite of her pride.
+
+Roland had a battle to fight all the way home.  He felt that he had
+done wrong; he had betrayed unchristian tempers in the presence of
+one whom he desired to benefit, had injured the cause of his Master,
+and wounded the feelings of a kind little friend, who was only
+enjoying, as she thought, a harmless piece of fun.
+
+The old man was very strong that day in Roland's heart; and poor Bob
+felt something of the inward strife, as the boy unconsciously urged
+him forward with the hard heels of his boot.  The new man whispered
+other counsels--"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Roland Bruce;
+you pretend to be a Christian, and to get so vexed at a piece of fun
+from a frolicsome little girl, who is such a good friend to you."
+Roland slackened his pace, and by the time that he had reached the
+cottage door, the new man had prevailed.
+
+"Where have you been, Roland?" asked his mother.
+
+"Why, mother, this is the first of April, and Madeline has sent me on
+a wild goose chase this whole afternoon.  I was very angry at first,
+and said some unkind things for which I am very sorry."
+
+"I need not tell you what is your duty, Roland."
+
+"No, dear mother; I will not lay my head upon my pillow to-night,
+without clearing my conscience."
+
+As soon as tea was over, he walked over to Woodcliff; and when near
+the house, met his little friend walking with a serious step along
+the lane.  As soon as she saw Roland, she turned her head away, drew
+up her form to its utmost height, and with a proud step attempted to
+pass by.  But Roland crossed her path, and taking off his cap said,
+
+"Madeline, I could not go to my rest to-night, without asking your
+pardon for my rudeness.  I am very sensitive to ridicule, but I do
+hope that you will forgive my hasty speech.  I ought to have been
+ashamed of myself for such conduct to you."
+
+She turned her face towards the boy.  Her eyes were swimming with
+tears, but she extended her hand, and said,
+
+"I do forgive you, Roland, but I cannot tell you how much you wounded
+me, for I was only in fun; and then, Roland, I thought that
+Christians never get angry."
+
+"That is what grieved me so much, Madeline; that I, who try to teach
+you, should have forgotten myself so far; it has taught me a good
+lesson, and bade me to look up for help, for my strength is all
+weakness when the tempter comes."
+
+"Well, we are friends now, Roland; I could not bear to be angry with
+you.  I shall not forget this first of April, and know where to play
+my tricks in future."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+BOSTON RELATIVES.
+
+"Which way, Maddy, this vacation?" asked Mr. Hamilton.
+
+"What do you think of Boston, papa?  I have not seen Aunt Clara so
+long; may I not go there?  I don't remember her at all."
+
+"That is what I was thinking of, Maddy; your aunt has written so
+often.  I am afraid, however, that you will have a sober visit, for
+Aunt Clara is a very religious woman."
+
+"I have cousins in Boston, papa, and they will make my time pass
+pleasantly."
+
+"Well, you shall go, Maddy, and then your cousins may visit you at
+Christmas."
+
+"What kind of a looking person is Aunt Clara, papa?"
+
+"She used to be a pleasant looking woman when she was young, not very
+handsome, Maddy; but since she has lost her children she has also
+lost all her bloom, and lives entirely secluded from the world."
+
+Maddy was full of anticipated pleasure; but there was one
+drawback--she did not like to leave her friends at the cottage.
+
+"I came to bid you good-bye, Mrs. Bruce," said the child.  "I am
+going to Boston to spend the holidays; but I shall not find such good
+friends there, I am sure."
+
+"There is one request I have to make, Madeline."
+
+"What is that, Mrs. Bruce?"
+
+"That you will bring me back your likeness."
+
+"That I will, if you want it."
+
+Roland, Effie and Maddy started to pay their last visit for some time
+to the sea-shore.
+
+"Shan't I miss the old ocean, Roland?  I do so love to hear the music
+of its waves."
+
+"We shall miss you, Maddy," said Effie.  "Only think, you will be
+gone three whole months, and when you get to Boston, you may forget
+your country friends."
+
+"That's what I never do, Effie," replied the child, with a glowing
+cheek.  "I do not fancy very many people, but I never grow cold to
+those I once love.  I hate warmly, and I love with all my heart."
+
+Roland sat very still, for secluded as their lives were, there was
+but one source of pleasure to them outside the cottage walls, and
+that was the society of our impulsive little Madeline.
+
+"Papa told me to say to you, Roland, that you may come up to
+Woodcliff every Saturday, and get any book you want to read."
+
+"Thank you, Madeline; that is very kind.  It will help to pass my
+leisure time until you return."
+
+Madeline mounted the highest rock, and, standing by the flag-staff,
+she spread out her arms towards the sea, saying, "Good-bye, old
+ocean, until I come back.  I shall find nothing so grand as this, go
+where I may."
+
+They parted at the cottage door, and next morning, Aunt Matilda was
+busily employed in packing up all the finery that she could gather
+for her little niece.  Handsome dresses, and pretty tasty waists,
+several new bonnets, and every variety of adornment that she could
+devise, were heaped upon the child.
+
+"Now, Madeline, I do hope that you will not be such a wild little
+thing in Boston.  If you want to be like a young lady, you must not
+race about so--it tumbles your curls, and disarranges your dress.  No
+young lady is ever noisy or boisterous.  When you are invited out,
+you must always wear gloves, and make a courtesy when you come in and
+when you go out."
+
+"I am afraid, Aunty, that I shall often forget these rules; I shall
+never stop to think of half of them."
+
+"I hope, Madeline, that you will not mortify me by any breach of
+etiquette."
+
+"A fig for etiquette, Aunt Matilda; I am only a little girl, and I am
+sure that Aunt Clara don't want me to be a little woman."
+
+In due time, Maddy, accompanied by her father, started on her trip.
+
+She had some dread of Aunt Clara, for she had heard so much about her
+sorrows, her piety, and her gravity, that she really expected to see
+a woman solemn as the grave, and demure as a cloistered nun.  Towards
+evening, they arrived at Mrs. Edmonds'; and when Maddy entered the
+parlor, nothing could exceed her surprise on meeting a small lady of
+middle age, with a serene aspect and peculiarly sweet smile around
+her mouth; her almost youthful innocence of expression would have
+misled one, were it not for the silver hair which lay upon her fair
+forehead in rippling waves, falling in a few light curls around her
+face, and speaking so deeply of grief and sundered ties.  A black
+silk dress, and white lace cap and collar--simple, but costly, was
+the costume which at all times, distinguished Aunt Clara.  A pretty
+little foot, and delicate hands, especially attracted Madeline's
+attention.  The only ornaments she wore, were a mourning pin
+containing her children's hair, her wedding ring, and a plain gold
+watch.
+
+Aunt Clara folded Maddy affectionately in her arms, and turning to
+Mr. Hamilton, with much feeling, remarked--
+
+"What an image of Julia!  I shall love you, Madeline, for my dear
+sister's sake."
+
+"It is so, Clara; she grows every day more and more like her mother.
+Just as impulsive; just as warm-hearted."
+
+Maddy decided at once that Aunt Clara was charming.  After a hasty
+toilet, Maddy was conducted to the family room.  Everything was so
+genial and cheerful, that she really enjoyed her tea out of the
+bright silver urn; and the old family plate seemed to shine with such
+a polish under the gas-light, that she wondered if it was brought out
+in compliment to the strangers.  It really did smile a bright
+welcome.  The family consisted of Aunt Clara, and an orphan child,
+the daughter of a dear friend, who had died when she was an infant.
+Ever since, Mrs. Edmonds had supplied a mother's place to Lucy, who
+bore her mother's name.
+
+Madeline was introduced to the young girl, who appeared about
+fourteen.  She soon found that Lucy was gentle and attractive in her
+manners, with a degree of seriousness unusual in a girl of her age.
+
+Lucy Edmonds was drawn towards the bright and beautiful child, who
+prattled so sweetly around the supper table; for not being possessed
+of many personal charms, she was a warm admirer of it in others.
+Lucy's chief attraction was a profusion of glossy black hair, that
+lay in heavy folds around a remarkably fine head; a pale complexion,
+ordinary features, and soft dark eyes, made up the rest.
+
+As soon as tea was over, Madeline drew Lucy into the parlor, and
+seating herself upon the sofa by her side, she rattled away with
+questions, for which she scarcely waited for an answer.
+
+"Do you ever see Lavinia Raymond?  What a conceited piece she is!  Is
+she just as fond of dress as ever?  When she was at our house, all
+she thought about was changing her dress, and walking up and down
+before the glass.  I suppose that I must be polite to her, for her
+mother is my father's sister; but I know I shall like you better,
+Lucy."
+
+Lucy was amused at the perfect openness of Madeline's remarks, but
+she had been taught better lessons, and merely replied,
+
+"Lavinia comes to see us occasionally; our doings are not pleasing to
+her; but mamma does not like me to make unpleasant remarks about
+people.  Lavinia has never been taught anything better.  We ought to
+be sorry for her."
+
+"Well! well! you are a good little Lucy, I see that.  I am afraid
+that you will not like my plain-spoken words."
+
+"I like truth, Madeline; but it is not well, mamma says, to express
+all that we think about people.  Charity should lead us to hope the
+best of everybody."
+
+"I do believe that you are a Methodist, Lucy; that's the name that is
+given to very good people, is it not, Lucy?"
+
+"There are very good people among all Christians, Madeline; but I
+think that my mamma is the best of all."
+
+"Lucy, will you give us some music?" said Aunt Clara.
+
+She did not need any coaxing, but went forward to the instrument with
+the calm self-possession of one that had been taught to think but
+little of herself.
+
+Lucy Edmonds had a sweet voice, and sang several songs most
+charmingly.
+
+"That's what I like, Lucy," remarked little Mad-cap.  "Now there was
+Lavinia Raymond, who has had the very best masters; it was the
+greatest act of condescension for her to play one piece, and then it
+was done in such an affected style, that I really used to feel sick
+when she sat down to the piano.  Here! this was the way;" and
+Madeline seated herself at the instrument, and, being a perfect
+mimic, commenced rolling her eyes, and mincing her words in imitation
+of her cousin.
+
+"Madeline," said Aunt Clara, "did not Lavinia stay with you some
+months?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am, she was at Woodcliff three months."
+
+"Is it kind, Maddy, to ridicule her?  You know that she is your
+cousin, and has been your guest.  Never mind Lavinia, Maddy, I would
+rather hear some of your music."
+
+"I would play willingly, Aunt Clara, but I only know a few simple
+songs."
+
+She sat down with such an artless, winning manner, that Aunt Clara
+listened with peculiar delight, not only on account of the manner
+with which she complied, but with feelings of deep emotion, as the
+rich music of her remarkable voice reminded her of the sister whom
+she had lost.
+
+"Do you like Scotch songs, Aunt Clara?"
+
+"Yes, my dear; will you sing one?" and Maddy sang with peculiar
+sweetness--
+
+  "Ye banks and braes o' bonny doon,
+  How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair,"
+
+but when she sang in her own touching way,
+
+  "I am wearing awa', Jean,"
+
+Mrs. Edmonds could not restrain the starting tears, for it was her
+sister's favorite song.
+
+About nine o'clock, a bell was rung, which assembled the family for
+prayers.  The two servants, with Mr. Hamilton, Lucy, and Madeline,
+composed the worshipers.  Lucy took her seat at the piano, and played
+an evening hymn, in which all present joined; and Aunt Clara's soft
+impressive voice read the Scriptures, and a solemn form of evening
+prayer, which committed all present to the care of the Good Shepherd.
+All was serious, and yet there was a sweet cheerfulness about the
+whole household, which had a most harmonizing influence upon our
+little girl.
+
+"Good-night, my love," said the kind aunt, as she kissed the niece;
+"Lucy will show you to your room."
+
+There was a dear little chamber adjoining Aunt Clara's room, which
+had been fitted up for Madeline.  It was a gem of a child's
+sleeping-room--a pretty green carpet, the dearest little bedstead and
+wash-stand, the prettiest little bureau, and neatest chairs, a
+hanging-shelf filled with such nice books--pure white curtains, the
+sweetest toilet set, and pictures of domestic scenes of innocent and
+happy childhood.  It was charming!  So thought Madeline as she looked
+around.  And when she saw the little Bible and hymn-book, which were
+placed upon a table near her bed, she felt that Aunt Clara had
+forgotten nothing that could make her good and happy.
+
+The first bell awoke our little girl, and in a few minutes, Lucy
+peeped in to see what progress she was making.  She was soon dressed,
+and, after a few verses in the Bible, and a short prayer of simple
+words, Maddy met good Aunt Clara in the breakfast-room.  Smiling and
+serene, she kissed her little niece; and, after the morning devotions
+and breakfast were over, Aunt Clara, taking Madeline by the hand,
+went up to her chamber.
+
+"Now, my dear niece, there are a few things which I wish you to do,
+after the chambermaid has attended to the ordinary care of your room.
+I want you to keep everything in perfect order, putting up your comb
+and brush, hanging up your dresses, and putting away everything that
+you are not using; neatness is invaluable to a woman, and I hope that
+you have been accustomed to these things."
+
+Maddy smiled, and said, "I don't think that I ever hung up a dress in
+all my life; Nanny did everything of that kind for me; but I'll try
+to remember, if I can."
+
+"So I suppose, Madeline; but it is a good thing to learn to wait upon
+yourself.  After a while, we will take a ride; I want to show you the
+environs of Boston."
+
+The child was enchanted with all that she saw; her innocent
+expressions of delight amused Aunt Clara, and brought back many a
+train of tender thought, as her enthusiasm recalled the image of her
+mother.
+
+When she reached home, she found that Lavinia Raymond had been to see
+her.
+
+"Is not this foolish, Aunt Clara, for Lavinia, who is only a little
+girl, to leave her card for her cousin?  She is a real dunce to put
+on such airs."
+
+"Stop, Madeline; it is your cousin, and you should not indulge in
+such free remarks."
+
+"But, Aunt Clara, I would not say one word behind her back, that I
+would not to her face; I've told her many a time that she was a
+simpleton."
+
+"Do you expect to go through this world, Maddy, telling everybody
+what you think of them?"
+
+"If I don't by my words, I must by my manners; for I cannot, for the
+life of me, be polite to people whom I do not like; that seems
+deceitful, Aunt Clara."
+
+"No, Maddy, you are mistaken; courtesy is due to all--you may form
+very erroneous opinions of people; and there could be no social
+intercourse if all the thoughts that pass through our minds, are to
+be obtruded at all times upon persons whom we may not choose to
+fancy."
+
+Next day, Lucy and Madeline called upon Lavinia.
+
+"What did you mean, Lavinia, by leaving your card the other day?"
+
+"Why, Madeline, that is the fashionable way of paying visits!"
+
+"Poh!  Lavinia, we are nothing but little girls; and it is just
+ridiculous for us to be playing the woman."
+
+Lucy could not but smile at her homely bluntness, and thought that
+her mamma would have some trouble before she could tame the spirits,
+or discipline Madeline's voluble tongue.
+
+In a day or two, Aunt Clara invited a few choice little girls to take
+tea with our young friends.  They were pleasant children, just such
+as Madeline liked, fond of play, and not too old to talk about dolls.
+Lavinia, who was one of the party, looked down upon the rest with
+supreme contempt, and when asked to join in their childish plays,
+could only answer, "No, I thank you; pray excuse me."
+
+Lucy Edmonds exerted herself to the utmost: joined in their plays,
+and when they wanted to dance, played several cotillons for their
+amusement.  Aunt Clara brought out some childish games, and in her
+own sweet winning manner, made one of the company.
+
+Madeline passed a delightful evening.  After the children had gone,
+she hung around her aunt, as if wanting to say something.
+
+"What is it, Maddy?  Have you not something to tell me?"
+
+Seating herself on a little stool at her aunt's feet, she said, "How
+is it, Aunt Clara?  I heard that you were so stern and cold, and that
+you thought it a sin even to smile.  I thought that I should be so
+afraid of you; then you let us dance, and I always thought that good
+people did not dance.  I am not at all afraid of you, Aunt Clara, and
+I love you so much more than I do Aunt Matilda."
+
+"You have made some common mistakes, Madeline; the world likes to
+cast reproach upon the children of God, and so they represent us as
+dull and gloomy; but the Bible does not, Maddy.  The righteous there
+are always spoken of as the only happy people in the world--merriment
+belongs to the days of childhood, Madeline, and if the joy of the
+spirit leads the feet to a dancing motion, let it be so; only let it
+stop when childhood has passed away; more serious duties, cares, and
+joys then have claims upon us."
+
+"You let Lucy dance, then, Aunt Clara?"
+
+"Yes, Madeline, here at home if she wishes to; but dancing-schools
+and children's balls, and all these foolish displays, I entirely
+discourage."
+
+"What will you do, aunt, when Lucy is a grown-up lady?"
+
+"I am trying all that I can to give Lucy a strictly religious
+education, and, by the blessing of God, I expect that she will be a
+Christian; that will regulate all the rest, Madeline.  Lucy will not
+then need the vain amusements of the world to make her happy--when
+the butterfly bursts its shell, it feeds no more upon the food which
+satisfied the grub, but honeyed sweets alone suits its new nature; so
+with the child of God, Maddy, who can say,
+
+  "Let worldly minds the world pursue,
+    It has no charms for me;
+  Once I admired its follies too,
+    But grace has set me free."
+
+
+"Well, dear aunt, if all pious people were just like you, I think
+that everybody would want to be Christians; but there was Miss Molly
+Tibbs, with a face as long as my arm, and a mouth drawn up like a
+persimmon, she thought it was a sin to laugh, and that pink was a
+wicked color; just think of that, Aunt Clara, the sweet color of the
+lovely rose wicked!  Did you ever hear such stuff?  But wasn't she a
+vixen! scolding from morning till night--tormenting her little
+brothers and sisters, and making everybody unhappy around her."
+
+"Poor lady!  What a pity that she had not studied the character of
+our blessed Master, whose whole errand upon the earth was to make men
+happy."
+
+On the first Sunday after her arrival she accompanied Aunt Clara and
+Lucy to church.  It was a solemn service, and the minister was an
+earnest, faithful preacher of the simple gospel.  When the sweet
+organ rolled through the church with its swell of heart-stirring
+music, Madeline was carried away, for she was not accustomed to the
+organ in their humble village church.
+
+"Was not that lovely music, Aunt Clara?" asked the child; "it is so
+different from our country choir.  I could listen all day to music
+like that; and the voices, Oh! how that lady's sounded; it seemed to
+ring, Aunt Clara, just like a sweet bell, and then it rolled up and
+up, and I could follow it all round the roof--it seemed to carry us
+right up to Heaven."
+
+Sunday was a happy day at Aunt Clara's.  She wore her brightest smile
+on that blessed day, and everything around her household breathed of
+the sweet calm within that holy bosom.  In the corner of the parlor
+stood a harp closely covered.  Madeline had often wondered who played
+upon the instrument, and at last ventured to ask Aunt Clara.
+
+"I was very fond of the instrument, Madeline, and used to play upon
+it in the happy days when my husband and children were with me; but
+since then I have never touched it."
+
+"Will you not let me hear some of its sweet strains, Aunt Clara?  I
+never heard the harp," asked Madeline.
+
+"It is out of tune, Maddy; but to-morrow I will send for the tuner,
+and you shall be gratified."
+
+"Whose pictures are those, Aunt Clara?" asked the child, as she stood
+gazing at the portraits of two lovely children, a boy of twelve, and
+a girl of nine years of age.
+
+"That is my Edward, Madeline, and that is my sweet Agnes; they have
+been among the blessed ones seven years now; they were lovely and
+pleasant in their lives, and in their death they were not divided.
+Only one week separated them.  Edward was taken first with scarlet
+fever, and Agnes followed him in one short week.  Oh!  Madeline,
+these were dark hours when I laid my darlings in the grave; but they
+were lambs of Jesus' flock, Maddy, and the comfort came.  Jesus
+healed my wounds with his own gracious hand.  I can say now, 'The
+Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the
+Lord.'"
+
+"What a sweet face Agnes has!  She looks so pure, just like a sweet
+lily of the valley."
+
+"That's what we used to call her, Maddy, for she was just as lovely
+as those sweet lilies.  Look here, my child," and Mrs. Edmonds opened
+a little book which contained a number of dried flowers.  "These she
+gathered the last year of her sweet life, and pressed them for her
+mother; they are so precious, Madeline.  Come up stairs, my dear, I
+want to show you something else," and Aunt Clara led the way to a
+small room that was always locked.  "This was my darlings' play-room,
+Maddy."
+
+A baby house, a rocking horse, some hanging shelves filled with
+books, several dolls, a little bureau filled with dolls' dresses, and
+a box of carpenters' tools--all these sweet mementoes were there.
+But that which touched Madeline most, was the last Christmas tree
+that the mother had ever dressed.  There it was, with all its little
+keepsakes from various friends.
+
+"Oh!  Aunt Clara, did it not break your heart to part with both?"
+
+"It would have done so, my child, but for the grace which bade me
+look upward, when the first storm of grief had passed, and I could
+look up at the crown of glory, the palms of victory, and the white
+robes of the upper world; then by degrees my grief was stilled, and I
+have found comfort in lightening the griefs of my fellow-sufferers,
+and spreading the flowers of love along the path of other children,
+as I would have done for my own darlings."
+
+"That's what makes you so good to Lucy, dear aunt," answered Madeline.
+
+"Lucy is a great blessing, dear; she is so thoughtful for her years.
+I think she never forgets my sorrow, and is always trying to make up
+for the loss of those who have gone before."
+
+"Why, aunt, I never should have thought that you had seen so much
+trouble, you are always so smiling and happy."
+
+"Maddy, there are some of the marks of the grief that wrung my
+heart," and she pointed to the silver hair, so fine, so soft, "it
+turned white in one night, my child."
+
+Madeline felt a deeper reverence for her dear aunt from that day, and
+by every means in her power tried to show her love for her afflicted
+relative.  And in return, Aunt Clara learned to love most tenderly
+the wild child of nature committed for a time to her care.  The next
+day, the tuner was sent for, and in the evening, Aunt Clara
+entertained Madeline with some exquisite sacred music on the harp.
+
+"I have often heard papa talk about the harp, he is so fond of that
+instrument.  Would it not be a great surprise if I could learn the
+harp without his knowledge? he would be so delighted."
+
+"We will see about it, Maddy."
+
+Next day, Mrs. Edmonds engaged one of the best teachers in Boston,
+and laid out a daily plan for her little niece as well as Lucy, for
+she well knew that idleness is the bane of happiness.
+
+"Line upon line, and precept upon precept," was, however, the
+discipline which she had constantly to exercise in training the
+wayward nature of her interesting charge.
+
+One day Aunt Clara looked over the banisters, and saw her little
+niece talking very earnestly to a poor woman at the front door.
+
+"Come here, Madeline, I want to speak to you."
+
+"Wait a minute, aunt," said the child, "I will be there directly."
+
+"Who is that woman, Maddy?"
+
+"I don't know, aunt; but she is so poor and ragged.  She has five
+children, and no husband, and they are starving to death."
+
+"How do you know that, my child?"
+
+"Why, aunt, she said so," replied Maddy, with an earnest look.
+
+"What did you give her, my child?"
+
+"All that was in my purse, aunt."
+
+"And how much was that?"
+
+"Only two dollars, aunt, and that is so little to buy clothes and
+food for so many."
+
+"You had better not give money in that way, my child."
+
+Mrs. Edmonds went to the door, took the woman's address, and promised
+to call upon her the next day.  Accordingly she went, but no such
+person lived there, or could be heard of in the neighborhood.
+Madeline was sadly chagrined, when she found that the woman had told
+such a dreadful falsehood.
+
+"So you see, my dear, it is not best to give money at the door; it is
+always advisable to visit such cases."
+
+"What a shame! Aunt Clara, for that woman to be so wicked; she might
+prevent us from giving to one who is really deserving."
+
+"So it is, my dear; but we have to learn some very sad lessons in
+this wicked world."
+
+Madeline frequently visited Lavinia, not because she wished to do so,
+but simply on the ground of relationship, and Lavinia frequently sent
+for her.  One morning, a servant rung the bell, and left cards for
+Madeline and Lucy, from Lavinia Raymond for the next Tuesday evening,
+announcing herself at home at eight o'clock.
+
+"Aunt Clara, must we go?  I don't want to go to any such parties of
+would-be men and women."
+
+"I suppose that you must go, Maddy; you will give great offence to
+your Aunt Raymond, if you do not."
+
+"I am not going to dress up in anything but a simple muslin, aunt,
+and if she don't like it, I don't care."
+
+"That is the most becoming for a little girl; it is what Lucy will
+wear."
+
+The evening arrived, and Lavinia was quite shocked at the plebeian
+simplicity of Madeline and Lucy.
+
+"Why did you not wear one of your silk dresses, Madeline? this is a
+full dress party.  I think you might have paid me the compliment."
+
+"I came as a little girl, Lavinia, not as a young lady."
+
+"You are the greatest simpleton that I ever saw, Madeline, with a
+father rich enough, and indulgent enough to give you anything you
+want, and you care no more for dress than a little country girl."
+
+"That is just what I am, Lavinia."
+
+The sight of so many over-dressed children aping all the airs and
+graces of grown men and women amused our little girl, and no sooner
+was she at home, than she commenced mimicking the folly that she had
+witnessed.
+
+"Aunty, there was one of the most terrible gluttons there among these
+would-be ladies that I ever met with.  She ate of everything upon the
+table, every variety of ice-cream and cake, and jelly, and
+confectionery; she ate oysters, and drank champagne; and to crown
+all, she filled her pockets with choice bon-bons; and when the
+candied fruit-basket was broken, took her share of that.  I wonder
+how she got home; I know that she was deadly sick, for she looked as
+pale as a ghost.  I'd rather sail on the lake back of our house with
+two or three little girls, than go to a dozen grand parties like
+that.  You ought to have seen Lavinia, Aunt Clara, flounced to the
+waist, quantities of jewelry, hair dressed by a fashionable
+hair-dresser, and she bowed and courtsied about all the evening, as
+if she were twenty-one, instead of thirteen."
+
+"My dear Madeline, will you ever remember that you were entertained
+last evening by Lavinia, and that you should not indulge in such free
+remarks?"
+
+"I can't help it, Aunt Clara; I hate affectation, and despise flirts;
+a flirting child is perfectly horrid."
+
+"These are strong expressions, my dear child; I do not think that the
+occasion calls for them."
+
+"I expect, aunt, that I shall have to take Lavinia home with me.
+Aunt Raymond hinted it last night; but I must have Lucy; shan't I,
+Aunt Clara?"
+
+"We will see, my dear; I should like Lucy very much to spend a few
+weeks in the country.  I think that she needs the change."
+
+"Will you go with me to-morrow to a good artist?  I promised to take
+some of my likenesses home.  Mrs. Bruce would be so disappointed."
+
+"And who is Mrs. Bruce, Maddy?"
+
+"She is one of my best friends, but she is very poor, aunt; she has
+to do plain sewing, and go to market for her living; she has two such
+good children, one named Roland, he is so good and so wise; they have
+taught me so much, Aunt Clara; and then she has a daughter Effie,
+such a dear girl; they are Scotch people, aunt, you would like them
+so much."
+
+"Is Mrs. Bruce a lady, Maddy?" asked her aunt.
+
+"A lady, aunt!  I don't know what to say; she has nothing that any
+other lady has; she has a very mean home, common clothes, and they
+are one of the poorest families around Woodcliff; but there is
+something about her, aunt, not at all like the common poor; she is
+educated, refined, polite, pious--yes, aunt, she must be a
+lady--sometimes I think Roland must have been a relation to the great
+Bruce, he is such a hero."
+
+Madeline succeeded in getting some really good pictures of herself;
+giving one to Aunt Clara, and one to Aunt Raymond, she reserved the
+remainder for dear friends at home.
+
+"Here is a letter, Aunt Clara, from dear papa; he will be here in two
+weeks, and says that Lavinia and Lucy must be ready to go home with
+us--you will not object, dear aunt?"
+
+"No, Maddy, Lucy can go."  Madeline was very happy at the idea of
+returning to Woodcliff, though sorry to leave her beloved aunt.  She
+had made surprising improvement on the harp, and regretted the loss
+of her lessons.
+
+Mr. Hamilton had but a short time to stay; therefore, on the next
+morning after his arrival, the party turned their faces towards
+Woodcliff.
+
+"Good-bye, dear aunt," sobbed Maddy; "I shall not soon forget the
+sweet lessons I have learned here; you will keep my secret, won't
+you, aunty?"
+
+"You'll come to me, Maddy, should sorrow overtake you; Aunt Clara
+always has a warm corner at her hearthstone for her little niece."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX,
+
+HOME AGAIN.
+
+And so they drove off.  Arrived at Woodcliff, Maddy returned to her
+old pursuits and pleasures.  It was a happy little group that
+gathered that evening at the widow's cottage.  Madeline, anxious to
+take the promised picture, invited her cousins to accompany her.
+
+"Not I," answered Lavinia; "you must really excuse me; Lucy can do as
+she pleases, but I have no taste for such plebeian associates."
+
+"Every one to her taste," replied Maddy.  "Come, Lucy, let us go."
+
+It was a warm welcome that was extended to them, and when Madeline
+handed her picture to Mrs. Bruce,
+
+"Thank you, my dear child," was the quick answer; "you could have
+brought me nothing which I shall so much value; it is such a perfect
+likeness."
+
+"I am glad that you are pleased, Mrs. Bruce; and I am so happy to be
+at home again."
+
+"Have you had a pleasant visit, Madeline?"
+
+"Yes, indeed, I have learned such sweet lessons from my precious Aunt
+Clara; she is so good, and so happy.  She lives religion, Mrs. Bruce;
+she does not talk it as some people do; but pray excuse me, and here
+is my cousin Lucy who has come down to stay with me."
+
+"I am glad to see her for your sake, Madeline; but here come Roland
+and Effie; how glad they will be!"
+
+"I'll just hide behind the door, don't tell;" and in a minute she had
+concealed herself, until the children were fully in the house.
+
+Suddenly springing out from her concealment, Effie could not restrain
+her joy, and folded Maddy in a heart-warm embrace, while Roland, with
+beaming eyes, extended both hands, and said, with deep emotion, "You
+are welcome, Maddy, back among us.  Woodcliff is nothing without you."
+
+Madeline kept her young friends constantly busy going from place to
+place, and showing them all the amusements around the Hall.
+
+Lucy was enchanted; for, being simple-hearted, nothing pleased her so
+much as the charming scenes of nature; but Lavinia's tastes were so
+much perverted, that green trees, shady lanes, quiet skies, and even
+the grand and glorious ocean, had no charms for her.
+
+One afternoon, the three girls, accompanied by Hector, took their
+accustomed walk to the sea-shore.  Madeline was in high spirits, and
+mounted the highest rock, leading her cousins after her; she skipped
+about from point to point, and at last clambered down the sides of
+the little cove, which was easily crossed at low tide.  In the
+excitement of their play, running races with Hector, they had rambled
+far up the beach, forgetting entirely the rising tide.  Maddy, in her
+wild frolic, had taken off her shoes and stockings, and had amused
+herself by wading in the water.  Evening was approaching, and when
+they returned, they found it impossible to cross; the tide had risen
+so high, that the cove was entirely impassable.  Madeline was now
+alarmed, for there was no other way of return but by the cove;
+fortunately, she had left her hat tied to the flag-staff, and with
+the quickness of thought she called Hector, and throwing a stick
+across the cove, sent him in search; he dashed through the water, and
+stood barking loud upon the other side, for he seemed to understand
+their danger--up and down he ran, then up to the top of the rock as
+if to search for some one; at last, he came bounding back, as if to
+tell good news; his bark was no longer one of alarm, it was one of
+joy.
+
+"Hector has found some one," said Madeline; "I know his ways, he does
+everything but talk."
+
+Lavinia began to wring her hands.  "What shall we do?  we can't stay
+here all night."
+
+"I should not like it much, Lavinia," replied Maddy; "but I think
+that somebody is coming."
+
+In another minute, Roland appeared on the top of the rock.
+
+"Don't be alarmed; I'll bring help soon;" and, dashing through the
+water, he took Madeline in his arms, saying,
+
+"Don't be afraid, I can carry you; it is not far across, and nothing
+else can be done."
+
+The water by this time had reached his armpits, but as Madeline kept
+quiet, he succeeded in landing her in safety on the other side.  It
+was not so easy to carry the others.  Lucy was older and larger, but
+willing to be directed by Roland, she also crossed in safety; and
+Hector manifested his joy at each landing, by barking loudly and
+licking the hands of the young ladies, especially his pet Madeline.
+
+But Lavinia's folly had nearly cost her life; first by her ridiculous
+airs while the water was rising, then her fears about her delicate
+dress, then her squeamishness about allowing Roland to carry her.  At
+last, he had to say,
+
+"There is not another minute to lose," and, seizing Lavinia without
+her consent, he commenced the crossing.  The water was now above his
+shoulders; Lavinia writhed, and struggled, and screamed; Roland tried
+to pacify her, but in vain.
+
+"I cannot hold you, miss, unless you are quiet."
+
+But it was all in vain--and in the struggle, Roland tripped in the
+water, and Lavinia fell from his arms; for a moment, she disappeared;
+Roland, too, in his efforts to reach her, was struggling under the
+water.  Hector sprang into the water, and in another minute, was
+carrying the silly girl to the shore.
+
+Madeline was in agony, her cheek pale as death, for Roland had not
+yet risen; in another second, her fears were relieved; he regained
+his feet, and soon reached the shore in safety.
+
+Lavinia was dreadfully frightened; her mouth filled with sea-water,
+and her clothes drenched with the bath.
+
+"How did you find us, Roland?" asked Maddy.
+
+"Hector's bark alarmed me; I traced you by your shoes on the rock,
+and your hat upon the flag-staff."
+
+"How can we thank you, Roland?" continued the child; "what should we
+have done without you?"
+
+Lucy too, returned her thanks; but Lavinia, in whose behalf he had
+incurred the most risk, coldly replied:
+
+"How could you let me drop, sir?  I have spoiled my handsome dress,
+and my new shoes."
+
+Roland did not answer; but Madeline replied with a flashing eye,
+
+"Aren't you ashamed of yourself, Lavinia Raymond? when Roland really
+risked his life to save yours.  Have you no thanks?"
+
+"Thanks for what? spoiling my beautiful dress?"
+
+"Lavinia Raymond, you are a fool!  I have no patience with you!"
+
+"Oh, Maddy! don't talk so; think of dear Aunt Clara," said Lucy.
+
+"She makes me so mad, I can't help it."
+
+Roland, by this time, had disappeared, having gone to one of the
+cottages on the beach, and found that Lavinia could get dry clothes
+there.
+
+There was no time to be lost; the party hurried to the hut; Lavinia
+had to endure the mortification of being dressed in the clothes of
+the fisherman's daughter, and all the party to ride home in an old
+cart.  There was nothing else to be done, and by this time, our
+changing, impulsive Maddy had forgotten all her indignation towards
+Lavinia, and was in a perfect gale of merriment at the ludicrous
+figure which they made in the old ricketty cart.
+
+"Really, Miss Raymond, no one would know you in this queer dress.  We
+would make a fine tableau, would we not, Lucy?"
+
+It was some time before Madeline escaped again to the shore, for her
+father was really alarmed at the result of this dangerous excursion.
+
+Maddy began to long for her harp lessons.  Having confided her secret
+to Aunt Matilda, they began to wonder how they should continue to go
+on without Mr. Hamilton's knowledge.  Most unexpectedly, an
+opportunity offered.
+
+"What says my little daughter about parting with papa for a few
+months?" said Mr. Hamilton.
+
+"Why, papa; where are you going?" replied the child.
+
+"I am called, suddenly, to Europe, and will be gone four or five
+months."
+
+"How can we do without you, papa?"
+
+"The time will pass very rapidly, Maddy; you will still continue at
+school, and Mademoiselle will go on with the French lessons at home."
+
+The next week Mr. Hamilton departed.  Aunt Matilda hired a harp from
+Boston, and engaged the same teacher to come twice a week to give
+lessons, as there was a railroad sufficiently near to make this
+practicable.  Madeline devoted herself most assiduously to her music
+lessons, for she was determined to surprise her father on his return.
+Her talent was remarkable, and progress accordingly rapid.
+
+She was so much occupied, that she saw but little of the Bruces, for
+during the stay of her cousins, her father had given her permission
+to stay from school.  Roland missed his little friend, and wondered
+what was keeping her so long away.  Still, occasionally he met her on
+her accustomed walks and rides, but always in company with her young
+friends, and a passing bow or smile was all that he received.
+
+One autumn evening, however, in his rambles, Madeline suddenly stood
+before him.
+
+"How do you do, Roland?" said the child, extending her hand, "it
+seems so long since we have had one of our pleasant chats."
+
+"How long will your friends stay, Maddy?"
+
+"Some weeks longer, Roland, and I am so busy; do you know that I am
+taking harp lessons to surprise papa?  He will be gone some months
+yet, and when he returns I shall be able to play.  Would you like to
+hear me, Roland?"
+
+"Yes, Madeline, if it were possible."
+
+"How did you spend your time when I was in Boston, Roland?"
+
+"I went regularly to Woodcliff every Saturday, and took advantage of
+Mr. Hamilton's permission to use his library, and all the leisure
+moments I had, I employed in reading; it was not much, but I used to
+sit up one hour later, and thus read a great deal."
+
+"What books did you choose, Roland?"
+
+"The lives of wise and good men, Maddy, especially such as had to
+endure hardships in their youth; and I found that most of these great
+men had to struggle in their early years; and I found too, Maddy,
+that those who left the brightest mark in the world were believers in
+the blessed Bible; others made impressions while they lived, but they
+are almost forgotten now; but Christian philosophers and statesmen
+are those whom God honors."
+
+"How is it, Roland, that all your thoughts and words seem filled with
+the Bible?  Other boys are not like you."
+
+"Because it was my daily food; rising up, and lying down, in the
+house, and by the wayside, it is, Maddy, our household book; and you
+need not wonder that all my life has been so constantly under the
+power of its heavenly truths."
+
+"I wish that I loved the Bible as you do, Roland; I have seen so much
+of its power at dear Aunt Clara's--she is such a lovely Christian;
+but I love to read other books so much better--will you come up next
+Saturday, Roland?"
+
+"Yes, Maddy, I have a book to bring home--will you not let me hear
+some of your music then?"
+
+"Certainly--I know two or three pretty pieces which I think you will
+like so much."
+
+"I must go now, Maddy, for my mother will want me; good-bye, get
+ready to come to school soon;" and with these words, Roland turned
+towards his home.
+
+Saturday came, and Madeline was tuning her harp at an early hour, in
+expectation of her young friend.
+
+When Roland arrived, she was practising one of her sweetest pieces,
+and calling him into the parlor, she played all that she knew, while
+Roland stood enchanted with the music that he had never heard before.
+
+"I have learned one hymn, Roland, for you, because I knew that you
+like sacred music;" and she sang with touching sweetness an evening
+hymn.
+
+Lavinia Raymond was watching outside of the piazza the performance in
+the parlor, and as Roland passed out on his way home, the sneer with
+which she greeted him, was but a repetition of the insolence of other
+meetings.
+
+"Madeline, are you really such a dunce as to let yourself down to
+that beggar boy?" asked Lavinia, as she entered the house.
+
+"Listen to me, Lavinia; the Bruces are my friends, poor as they are;
+I honor and love them all, and you shall not sneer at them when I am
+near--you are not worthy to mention even the name of a Bruce."
+
+"Quite theatrical, Madeline!--you would make an excellent actress;
+the flashing eye, the glowing cheek, the lofty head, and the proud
+step would very well suit a queen."
+
+"Be silent, Lavinia, I will not submit to your insolence;" and
+Madeline haughtily left the room.
+
+In a few minutes she entered, and extending her hand, said,
+
+"Lavinia, forgive me; I was very rude to a guest, but you provoked
+me."
+
+"You may enjoy your friends for me, Madeline; but I must say that I
+am sorry to see you throwing your attentions away upon plebeians."
+
+"I am not doing so, Lavinia; it makes me happy to do anything for
+people so good as they are, for I do believe that they are the real
+children of God.  I would that I were half so good."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+SUNSHINE AT THE HALL; SHADOWS AT THE COTTAGE.
+
+Morning, noon, and night, was Madeline inventing some new scheme of
+fun and frolic, never, however, neglecting her harp.
+
+Mademoiselle generally managed to get about half of her lessons; Aunt
+Matilda did not interfere, for Maddy had company, and could not be
+expected to study much.
+
+"You know, aunt, that it would be the height of impoliteness, and I
+could not expect the girls to take lessons; to be sure, Lucy does, as
+a matter of choice."
+
+This was sufficient, and Madeline's all-powerful arguments prevailed.
+
+Poor M'lle Fouladoux was often sorely tried, and Fanfan was her only
+comfort.
+
+Occupied with her young friends, Madeline knew but little of the
+shadows gathering over her friends at the cottage.
+
+It was all sunshine at Woodcliff; for thus far, Maddy's life had been
+all a bright summer day; but it would have been quickly dimmed, if
+the young heiress had known the sorrows that were threatening her
+humble friends.
+
+Mr. Hamilton had formerly lived in the South, and having freed the
+servants who lived with him, he had brought his house-domestics to
+his Northern home.  They were strongly attached to their master's
+family, and Madeline, especially, was their idol.
+
+Nanny thought nothing could surpass her young mistress in beauty, or
+grace, or smartness, and many a cup of flattery was administered by
+this faithful, but foolish servant.
+
+"Girls, I think that we shall have some rare sport this fall; Jim,
+the coachman, is quite smitten with our Nanny; they shall have a
+wedding, and I'll be mistress of the ceremonies.  You ought to see
+the darkies dance;" and Madeline mimicked to the life what she had
+often seen in the kitchen.
+
+"Will they be married here?" inquired Lavinia.
+
+"Yes, indeed; they shall be married in our dining-room, and I'll
+dress Nanny's head myself."
+
+Madeline watched her opportunity, and questioned Nanny about the
+affair.
+
+"Lor' bless you, young missus, what put this ere in your head?  Jim
+is jest a perticelar friend."
+
+"Yes, I know, Nanny; you need not try to deceive me," answered the
+child.
+
+"Well, Miss Maddy, what do you all think of Jim?"
+
+"He's a clever fellow, Nanny, and we are all willing."
+
+"Well, then, Miss, I mout as well tell; we are gwan to be married in
+about a month."
+
+"You shall have a nice wedding, Nanny; I'll give you your wedding
+suit; you shall be married in the dining-room; get your bridesmaids
+and groomsmen, and you shall have a grand time, Nanny."
+
+Maddy was a busy little bee during the next month; the evening at
+length arrived, and the guests assembled in the dining-room waiting
+for the bride and groom.  Maddy had been superintending the bride's
+dress; but having completed that, with her cousins, joined the
+company in the parlor.  The minister stood waiting at the head of the
+room.  At length the bridesmaids and groomsmen appeared, then Nanny
+and the groom.  She was dressed in white, with low neck and short
+sleeves, and her head encircled by a wreath of large red roses.  The
+ceremony proceeded.  When about half through, Jim, supposing it
+ended, turned to kiss his bride.
+
+"Not yet," said the minister.
+
+"Oh, well! so far, so good.  Go on, Massa."
+
+When the ceremony was ended, they took their seats among the
+congratulations of their numerous colored friends, and with the
+imitative quickness of their race, the manners of ladies and
+gentlemen were most amusingly copied in Mr. Hamilton's dining room.
+
+"Why, Miss Nanny, you're quite brilliance to-night," said one of the
+groomsmen.
+
+"Who are you calling Miss Nanny, Bill?" said the other groomsman,
+tittering, "that is Miss Roberts now."
+
+Nanny hung her head bashfully, and, looking up at Jim, said,
+
+"That name sounds mighty quar."
+
+About ten o'clock, a nice supper was announced in the servants'
+sitting room, and it was really amusing to our young folks, to see
+the airs with which the colored gentlemen handed out the belles to
+the supper table.
+
+"We're much obliged to you, Miss Madeline," said Jim, "for this
+party, for we know that you got it up for us."
+
+"I hope that you will make Nanny a good husband, Jim, for she is a
+good girl.  I won't let you be cross to her."
+
+After supper, a number of songs enlivened the evening, and a serenade
+at a late hour, in which four voices joined, wound up the affair.
+
+Madeline had heard nothing of the Bruces for several weeks, excepting
+by a few casual words in the Sunday-school room, for Lucy and she
+still attended.  On the following Sunday morning, Maddy thought that
+Roland looked very sad, and Effie was not present.
+
+"What is the matter, Roland?" asked the child.
+
+"Oh, Madeline! dear mother is so sick; she seems to be growing weaker
+every day."
+
+"Don't get disheartened, Roland; you know what you have often said to
+me, 'Look up for help.'"
+
+"Yes, I know, Madeline; but the loss of my mother would be such a
+great calamity, that I cannot always look up.  Sometimes, I cannot
+trust the promises; then I get so weak, I can scarcely hold up my
+head."
+
+"I am sorry, Roland.  Is there anything that I can do for her?"
+
+"Come and see her, Madeline, that would cheer her up."
+
+"I have been detained by company, Roland, that is all the reason."
+
+"Yes, I know that; we can't expect you to leave them often."
+
+"I will come soon, Roland; I am so very sorry."
+
+Madeline kept her word, but her high spirits were suddenly saddened,
+when she saw the pale face and trembling hands of her kind friend.
+Mrs. Bruce was sitting up endeavoring to sew, but the marks of
+languor were so apparent, that a chill settled around Maddy's heart,
+and she feared that Roland must soon lose this dear mother.
+
+"You are not well, Mrs. Bruce," said the child, as she took her
+friend's extended hand.
+
+"No, my dear, flesh and heart are failing; but 'God is the strength
+of my heart, and my portion for evermore.'  While he is left, I am
+perfectly at peace."
+
+Madeline looked upon the placid face, and the sweet smile of trusting
+faith that lit the features of her friend, and thought how precious
+was that holy trust.
+
+"I know now, Mrs. Bruce, what you mean by looking up; how happy you
+must be."
+
+"If I looked down upon myself, Maddy, with all my weakness and sin;
+or if I looked upon my dear children, who may soon be left
+motherless, my heart would sink; but when I look upward at the rest
+in store for those who love God, and at the sure promises to the
+children of the righteous, I can even rejoice in tribulation,
+because, my dear, they work patience, experience, and hope."
+
+Madeline glanced at Roland and Effie--the former was regarding his
+mother with a look of loving reverence, as though he partook of her
+lofty hope; but poor, delicate Effie sat with her head bowed upon her
+hands, and the big tears rolling down her sweet face.  Madeline drew
+the weeping child towards her, and, passing her arm around her,
+whispered,
+
+"Don't cry so, Effie; your mother may get better, and we will always
+be your friends."
+
+"I know that, Madeline; but where shall I ever find another mother?"
+
+Maddy returned with a saddened spirit, for with all her sanguine
+nature, she could not but fear that deep sorrow was settling around
+the cottage household.  Not a day passed, without some little
+delicacy from Woodcliff; sometimes by Madeline's own hand, or else
+sent by a servant.
+
+Lucy frequently accompanied her cousin in her visits, but Lavinia
+never--she could not stoop to such a condescension.
+
+In all her letters to her father, Maddy never forgot her humble
+friends, and, in return, Mr. Hamilton directed that every comfort
+should be supplied to the declining mother.
+
+After a few weeks, Mrs. Bruce appeared to rally once more, and hope
+revived the spirits of all who loved her.  Madeline especially was
+greatly elated, and was sure that her dear friend was recovering.
+With the revival of her hopes, her high spirits rose again.
+
+"Don't be alarmed, Roland, your mother will soon recover," and Maddy
+yielded to the delusion with full confidence.
+
+Roland was now called to bear a heavy burden, for the support of the
+family fell chiefly upon him.  Busy in their little garden, he toiled
+with a cheerful spirit, and found his donkey and cart a great
+treasure, for now he could go into market three times a week with the
+produce of his little plot of ground.  It pained him sorely to leave
+school, but duty called, and the obedient spirit submitted.  The
+delicacies from the Hall kept his mother well supplied, and with the
+strong faith of a Gordon, he could labor, wait, and even rejoice.
+The boy of seventeen, under the discipline of trial, and the teaching
+of a holy mother, seemed to have reached the maturity of riper years;
+and Mrs. Bruce felt that she might lean upon him with affectionate
+trust, as the instrument which God had chosen to cheer her declining
+days.
+
+Autumn was now rapidly closing around them, and Madeline, with her
+elastic step and bird-like voice, frequently crossed the door-sill of
+the cottage, always lighting it up with her bright, hopeful face, and
+leaving behind her the sweet echoes of her own joyous nature.
+
+Full of hope for her friends, her merry spirit kept the family all
+alive at the Hall.  Her young friends were to stay until Christmas,
+and Madeline promised them great sport should there be snow enough
+for a sleigh-ride.
+
+Tony Willikins, her warm admirer at school, often stepped in at
+Woodcliff to pay his respects, and having seen Mademoiselle at
+church, and met her occasionally in her walks with Madeline, that
+prankish little girl had contrived to bring about quite an intimacy
+between the two.  Many a bouquet that was sent for Madeline was
+conveyed to Mademoiselle, with Tony's compliments; and Tony himself
+was often chagrined, on seeing the French teacher innocently wearing
+the flowers intended for the roguish child.
+
+Tony had somehow learned a few French phrases, and, much to the
+amusement of our young friends, he made a barbarous use of his slim
+stock of language, not at all aware of his false pronunciation.
+
+His salutation of "Maddymorthelle," always set our young friend in a
+titter; and his persevering efforts taxed Mademoiselle's French
+politeness to the utmost.
+
+Poor Tony was a complete butt for Madeline and Lavinia, and many a
+joke did they play upon the unconscious youth.
+
+One afternoon, Tony paid them a visit in what he considered splendid
+costume.
+
+He had been told that small-clothes were to be the fashion that
+winter, so, to be ahead of all others, had ordered a new suit of
+clothes; and presented himself at Woodcliff in black tights, with
+black silk stockings, pumps, silver knee and shoe buckles, and, to
+crown all, a pair of blue glasses, which he had been told was
+becoming; he wore also a fancy-colored guard ribbon, and a diamond
+pin.  Tony thought himself irresistible; and when Madeline entered
+the parlor, and saw the ludicrous figure, it was next to impossible
+to restrain her laughter.
+
+At that moment, fortunately, Fanfan performed some of her amusing
+pranks, which gave Maddy an opportunity of indulging her risible
+faculties, and if Tony had not been such a weak youth, he might have
+seen that the laugh continued much longer than Fanfan's oft-repeated
+tricks could call forth.
+
+"Mith Madeline, I want to thow you my new guard ribbonth," and Tony
+opened a package which contained every imaginable color.
+
+"Which do you think the prettieth, mith?"
+
+"I like blue; that is my favorite color."
+
+Immediately Tony changed his scarlet guard for a blue one; and, much
+to the amusement of the young girls, he continued,
+
+"Blue ith my color now."
+
+"Won't you sing, Tony?" asked Madeline.
+
+"Yeth, if Maddymorthelle will play for me.  What shall I thing, mith?"
+
+"'How can I leave thee!'" answered Madeline, with a merry twinkle.
+
+"That is tho affecting, mith; I am afraid that I can't get through
+it, but I'll try."
+
+Mademoiselle took her seat at the piano, and Tony commenced with a
+lisping, languishing tone to sing.  Madeline was convulsed with
+laughter; and Tony, who saw her handkerchief covering her face,
+thought that she was deeply affected, and said,
+
+"We had better not finith the thong, Maddymorthelle; it affecth Mith
+Maddyth' nervth."
+
+Madeline could stand no more; jumping up, she ran out of the room to
+indulge her burst of laughter, which could no longer be restrained.
+
+Lucy did not sympathize with the jokes played upon Tony, for his
+weakness was his misfortune; and with her correct principles, she
+could no more ridicule that, than she could a blind, deaf, or lame
+man; but Madeline had not yet learned to ask about the right or wrong
+of an action, the impulses of the moment yet ruled the child.
+Sometimes, the thought would cross her mind, that it might not be
+just right, but the love of fun prevailed over her light scruples.
+
+* * * * *
+
+The cold increased, and one morning, Madeline ran into Lavinia's
+room, saying,
+
+"Get up, Lavinia, here is a grand snow-storm!  Now for our promised
+ride."
+
+They watched the progress of the storm anxiously; all day and night
+it continued, and by the next morning, the sleighs began to fly
+around the neighborhood.
+
+At that moment, a sleigh stopped, and Tony, dismounting, invited the
+young ladies to take a ride.
+
+"I will call about four o'clock, and we will ride up to the White
+Houth, take thupper, and return by moonlight."
+
+Maddy ran to her aunt to obtain her consent, which was given on
+condition that she should make one of the party.
+
+Accordingly, at the appointed hour, furred, tippeted, and well
+protected from the cold, our party set off in high glee.
+
+"You can manage those spirited horses, I hope, Tony?" said Aunt
+Matilda.
+
+"Don't be afraid, ma'am; I have driven them many a mile, and never
+had an acthident yet."
+
+The ride was splendid, Madeline in wild spirits, and the whole party
+affected by her merry sallies.
+
+Arrived at the White House, Tony ordered a supper, and, after a
+lively dance in one of the parlors, in which all joined but Lucy,
+they sat down to a nice supper, and then started for home.
+
+There was a number of sleighs on the road, all travelling at full
+speed; Tony's animals were not to be passed.  A large sleigh came
+dashing by.  Tony tried to check the wild animals, but all in
+vain--on they rushed.  Miss Matilda was in an agony of terror.
+
+Utterly unable to manage them, they galloped on madly, till, bringing
+up on a snow-bank, they upset the party on the road-side, and raced
+furiously on, until overtaken by several men, who came to the rescue,
+and, after some time, succeeded in quieting the excited horses.
+
+Miss Matilda was in a state of dreadful alarm; Mademoiselle Fouladoux
+deploring the condition of little Fanfan, who had accompanied the
+party; Madeline laughing at the adventure; Lavinia provoked; and Lucy
+quietly awaiting the return of Tony.
+
+When the youth at length appeared, Mademoiselle threw up her hands,
+exclaiming, piteously,
+
+"Oh, Monsieur Willikins! take us home; ma pauvre Fanfan will take a
+dreadful cold."
+
+Tony wrapped the dog up in his foot muff, and proceeded home as
+rapidly as they could go with safety.
+
+"We have had a jolly time, Mademoiselle," exclaimed Madeline.  "I
+think the upset was the best part; none of us were hurt, and it was
+only a good joke after all."
+
+Little did Maddy know of the sorrow that was wringing the young
+hearts at the cottage.  Not having heard for several days, the next
+morning Madeline started to see her friends.  On entering the house,
+no one was visible; all was quiet, and she proceeded up stairs to the
+widow's chamber.  Propped up with pillows, with a face as pale as the
+white sheet, and laboring for breath, she beheld her humble friend.
+Effie was sitting on one side of the bed, close to her mother, and
+Roland was reading the Bible to his declining parent.
+
+"'Let not your heart be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also in
+me; in my Father's house are many mansions.'"  He stopped for one
+moment, but Madeline said, "Go on, Roland;" and, with his own rich
+voice, he proceeded to repeat a Psalm, "'I will lift up mine eyes
+unto the hills from whence cometh my help.'"
+
+"My help cometh even from the Lord, who hath made heaven and earth,"
+responded the mother, with uplifted eyes and hands clasped over her
+panting breast.
+
+"Come here, Madeline, my dear child," said the fading Christian; "you
+see that it will not be long before I shall go home, and be no more
+seen; but remember what I tell you, that God is a sufficient refuge
+in this hour of trial, and the Saviour of sinners my all in all!"
+
+"Can you look up still, dear Mrs. Bruce?" asked Madeline, with deep
+solemnity.
+
+"Yes, my dear child; I know that he that keepeth Israel shall neither
+slumber nor sleep.  'He will not suffer the sun to smite thee by day,
+nor the moon by night,' that is the promise, Maddy, and I believe it
+with all my heart; 'his rod and his staff they comfort me.'"
+
+"You will get better yet, Mrs. Bruce, I am sure," answered the child,
+"for I know that Roland and Effie pray for you, and God has promised
+to answer prayer."
+
+"Yes, he will answer us, when we ask with submission to his will; his
+will now is made clear and plain, my days on earth are drawing
+swiftly to a close.  I am ready and willing to depart and be with
+Jesus, which is far better than to stay here; but to leave my
+darlings, Maddy, is a sore trial.  You will not forget them, dear,
+when I am gone."
+
+"Forget your children!  Never!  I know none that I love so well; and
+so long as I live, they will find me, little Madeline, their true
+friend."
+
+"Bless you! my dear child, for those kind words; they cheer my heart.
+I look upon them as an answer to my prayer; for this morning there
+was an hour of darkness, when I thought of them, especially of Effie;
+but now I can keep my eyes fixed upon Heaven, and bid adieu forever
+to earthly cares."
+
+Effie was weeping bitterly, her mother turned her face towards her
+and said,
+
+"Do not distrust our Heavenly Father, my child; he will comfort and
+sustain you; he has sent this dear little friend to us in our hour of
+sorrow."  Turning to Madeline, she continued, "Tell your father,
+Maddy, that we shall never forget his kindness; for weeks your family
+physician has been attending me, sent by your father; he has done all
+that he can, but vain is the help of man."
+
+Madeline was deeply impressed by the lesson of that solemn hour, for
+she had never been so near the presence of death before.  From that
+hour, she spared no pains to administer to the comfort of her
+precious friend.
+
+Betty, the old cook, was a kind-hearted woman, and daily prepared
+some little delicacy grateful to the invalid, which Madeline and Lucy
+took with their own hands.
+
+Deep was the sorrow settling down upon the heart of Roland Bruce; for
+his mother was parent, friend, guide--his only earthly stay.  When he
+looked into the wilderness of life without his mother, it did indeed
+seem a desolate, dreary waste.  He sat looking upon the pale face
+regarding him with such a look of unutterable love.
+
+"Roland, come sit by me; I have much to say to you while I have
+strength to speak."
+
+He arose and seated himself close by his mother's side.  "You are
+seventeen now, my son, with almost the character of a man; and,
+blessed be God!  I believe that you are his dear child."
+
+Roland took his mother's hand, and while tears rained over it, he
+replied,
+
+"To you, dear mother, under God, I owe all that I am.  I can never
+forget the lessons of wisdom, truth, trust in God, and heroic
+endurance that you have taught me by examples from the Bible, from
+the world, and especially from our own honored race."
+
+"You must never forget your lineage, Roland; you are not descended
+from those who derive their greatness from outward show, magnificent
+adornment, or the pomp and equipage of courts.  Your ancestors were
+trained in the humble manse, in the lowly cottage, among the rude
+mountains of Scotland, and their grandeur was moral only.  They were
+born in the days when to be a spiritual Christian was to hold life
+very cheap--the spirit of those days has always distinguished our
+race, for in every generation, there has been a witness for God among
+the Gordons."
+
+"I have never forgotten it, mother," answered Roland.  "I think it is
+that which makes me think so little of the pomp of this world.  I
+have never felt at all impressed by what I have seen at Woodcliff,
+because I contrast it all with the humble tomb-stone in that Scottish
+glen, and with all else that you have told me of the name of Gordon."
+
+"I believe, my son, that God destines you for something good and
+great.  Roland, remember what I mean by great; not rich or grand in
+earthly goods, or even in intellectual culture merely, but great in
+deeds of benefit to your race; in order to reach that point, spare no
+pains to obtain a good education."
+
+"How shall I, mother? it is what I long for; but I have no money, no
+means, no influence.  I am all alone."
+
+"Where there is a will, there is a way, Roland.  I do not wish you to
+have money or influential friends; I want you to have trust in God;
+this is the motto I leave with you, my son, 'Looking aloft;' remember
+it is your dying mother's motto; when discouraged, turn to that, and
+I am sure that you will prosper."
+
+"Oh, mother! how shall I live without you? your voice is like a
+trumpet to me; it stirs the very depths of my soul; and when you
+speak, it seems as if I could dare anything.  I never shall forget my
+feelings when you bade me read the inscription on the tomb-stone of
+our martyred ancestors; my soul seemed to take a great leap, and
+really to swell within my childish form.  I felt as if I never could
+be low, or mean, or grovelling after that, and so I feel to-day; but
+what will it be when you are gone?" and Roland bowed his head and
+wept.
+
+She laid her hand upon his head and said: "When I am gone, Roland,
+these memories will be with you, I know, 'to keep your soul from
+blight.'  I have perfect confidence that God will keep his promise to
+me, and to you; he will guide you, I am sure; and though you may have
+sore trials, he will sustain my Roland, and make him a blessing to
+the world--too many twilight hours of consecration, too many seasons
+of dedication has my Father witnessed when Roland's name was itself a
+prayer, to allow one moment's doubt--not one of those sacred hours
+will ever be forgotten by our covenant-keeping God."
+
+"Ob, what I am losing in you, my mother!"
+
+"It is God's will, my son; perhaps by cutting you loose from all
+earthly dependence, he designs to cast you wholly upon himself--this
+is the way that you are to learn the blessedness of 'looking aloft.'
+Think what others have done who have risen from the humblest walks of
+life, and do likewise; only let all be done for the glory of God, not
+for your own exaltation, Roland.  If it is ever in your power, I wish
+you to visit your home in Scotland; you have an aunt and cousin
+living there; there is some property also, and I think that it will
+be to your advantage to seek out your relations.  There is an old
+friend of mine whom I should like you to see, Malcolm Graham; he
+would be a valuable friend.  Above all things, get a good education;
+stop at no sacrifice; shrink from no labor."
+
+Roland listened to his mother's words as though it were a voice from
+Heaven, and to him it was; for the message of that hour guided all
+his earthly destiny.  He rose with reverence; his feelings were too
+deep for utterance; pressing a kiss on either cheek, and on the calm
+pale forehead, he left the room, and bowed by his bed-side, poured
+out his young soul in fervent prayer.
+
+"What has been done, by the blessing of God, shall be done again,"
+said Roland to himself--"'looking aloft,' trusting in God, I can do
+all things."
+
+The resolution of that silent hour was sublime; it was known to none
+but God; but doubtless a record was entered in the book of God's
+remembrance which was never blotted out, never revoked; and the name
+of Roland Bruce was seen by angels signed to that recorded
+dedication, and sealed by the precious blood of the Redeemer.
+
+From that day, the setting of life's sun to Mrs. Bruce was slow,
+sure, but glorious.
+
+"One more charge, Roland," said the mother, after an hour's converse;
+"be faithful to Effie; I need scarcely tell you that; but she is a
+delicate flower, and must be tenderly cherished, Roland; and after I
+am gone, in my top drawer, tied with a black ribbon, you will see a
+package; it is for you, Roland: I can trust you with your mother's
+history."
+
+Elsie Gibson had been absent for months from the neighborhood, but
+one evening suddenly she appeared at the cottage.  She seemed much
+agitated on hearing how ill Mrs. Bruce was, and asked to see her.
+
+Conducted to the dying chamber, and standing by the bedside, she took
+the pale withered hand that lay upon the bed-clothes, and said:
+
+"Mary Bruce, this is a solemn hour; I trust that you are at peace
+with God."
+
+"Blessed be my Saviour's name!  I am; I have no fears for the future,
+no anxiety for the present; death is swallowed up in victory."
+
+"Is there any message that you would send to any of your Scotch
+friends, Mary?  I may go to Scotland ere long.  Is there anything
+upon your mind, Mary?"
+
+"There is no one near, Elsie, is there?" anxiously inquired the
+invalid.
+
+"There is no one, Mary; we are all alone."
+
+"If you ever see my brother or any of my relations, give my love, and
+tell them how happy were my dying moments--and now, Elsie, you knew
+my husband in former days--do you know that sometimes I have felt
+that he was not dead.  He was so singular, sometimes I thought he was
+deranged; he became so gloomy in latter years, that I have thought
+perhaps he is not dead; we never heard of it certainly, and then the
+supplies which I received so long must have come from him."
+
+"If he were alive, would you send him any message?"
+
+"I should like to tell him that I freely forgive any unkindness which
+he showed to me.  He had sore trials to rend his heart, and so had I,
+Elsie.  If he is alive, and has forsaken his family, I forgive him
+that too; because, if he is, I believe that it was done in an hour of
+great depression, perhaps insanity."
+
+Elsie listened earnestly to these words; a faint smile passed over
+her face, as she replied:
+
+"I ken something o' your story, Mary; it was a sad one; very much
+like the song o' 'Auld Robin Gray;' but your sorrows are amaist owre,
+Mary; and on the ither side, a' will be plain and clear."
+
+A few more days, and the ministering angel called for the faithful
+mother, and bore her peacefully, happily, over the swellings of
+Jordan, to the bosom of the Redeemer whom she loved.
+
+Roland stood in the presence of the dead with solemn, tender dignity;
+for he felt that no common loss was his in parting with such a friend
+and counsellor in life's trials and sorrows; but his hopes of reunion
+were so strong, so bright, that time appeared but as a little span,
+at the end of which he should again meet the spirit of that sainted
+parent.
+
+Effie was not so strong--poor, timid, loving child!  It seemed to her
+as if life would weep itself away in the first burst of anguish that
+filled the chamber of the dead.
+
+Aunt Matilda undertook the expenses of the widow's funeral, and the
+family at the Hall joined the humble procession.
+
+Elsie Gibson was a sincere mourner, and made many mysterious remarks
+which none could explain.
+
+About a week after the funeral, Roland and Effie bent their steps to
+the village grave-yard.  When they came in sight of the grave, what
+was their surprise! to see Elsie and a man wrapped up in a heavy
+cloak, in earnest conversation.  He stood with his handkerchief to
+his face, as though deeply affected; but as soon as Elsie perceived
+the approach of the two, she hurried away with her mysterious
+companion.
+
+They were both surprised, and wondered who it could be thus
+interested in their mother.  They were paying their last visit ere
+disposing of the furniture at the cottage.
+
+Aunt Matilda had offered Effie a home, where she was to make herself
+useful with her needle.  Roland was preparing to obey his mother's
+request of seeking an education.  All was ready for his departure,
+and Madeline sent for him to come up to the cemetery in the evening.
+When reaching his mother's grave, there sat Madeline on the humble
+mound, at the head of which was placed a simple head-stone of white
+marble, with his mother's name and age inscribed, with the sweet
+words, "Asleep in Jesus."
+
+"Is this your work, Madeline?" asked the boy.
+
+"Yes, Roland; it was the last thing that I could do for you; you have
+been a faithful friend to me, and it is a small return."
+
+"I cannot tell you, Madeline, how grateful I am for this act of
+kindness; it was a trial to me to think that my mother must lie in
+the grave without any sign to mark the place of her burial."
+
+"When do you leave us, Roland?"
+
+"Just as soon as my little stock at the cottage is disposed of; it is
+of very little value, but after all our debts are paid, what is left
+is for Effie, I can take care of myself.  I shall be all alone in the
+great world, Maddy, but it will be a comfort to know that you, my
+little friend, will not forget me."
+
+Madeline's eyes filled with tears.  "That cannot be, Roland; all that
+I know of anything that is good and holy began with you; when I first
+knew you, I scarcely knew the difference between right and wrong."
+
+"There is one thing I want you to promise, Maddy, and that is to read
+your Bible morning and evening, praying for God to help you to
+understand what you read."
+
+"That is a small request, Roland, and I promise that I will let
+nothing interfere with the duty."
+
+"May our Father bless you, Maddy, and have you always in his holy
+keeping.  I shall never cease to pray for you."
+
+"Where are you going, Roland?"
+
+"To college, Maddy, where I hope to gain a classical education.  My
+mother charged me to strive for that, and with my eyes fixed upon
+heaven, I hope to succeed."
+
+"Have you any money, Roland?"
+
+The boy smiled as he replied, "In the bank of Heaven, Maddy."
+
+"What do you mean by that, Roland?"
+
+"I mean that there are promises made to God's children--dear mother
+has always told me that God's word can never fail--so his bank can
+never break, Maddy."
+
+"I shall miss you, Roland, when my naughty fits come.  I shall want
+you to show me how to conquer myself."
+
+"You must not lean on any human arm; there is one strong arm, Maddy;
+the one that conquered sin, Satan and death."
+
+"That is Jesus, Roland.  I wish that my faith in him was just like
+yours."
+
+"Pray, Maddy, that he would give you faith; he is the author and
+finisher of our faith.  Do you remember any of the little songs that
+I have taught you, Maddy?"
+
+"Yes, Roland, I remember them all; I shall get the music, and learn
+them perfectly now."
+
+"Let us sing together our last song, Maddy," and Roland's rich voice,
+with Madeline's sweet, clear notes, joined in the dear old song,
+
+  "Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
+    And never brought to mind?
+  Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
+    In days o' lang syne!
+  For auld lang syne, my Jo,
+    For auld lang syne;
+  We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
+    For auld lang syne."
+
+
+Maddy's voice trembled, and ere they reached the last verse she bowed
+her head and wept.
+
+Roland put his hand in his pocket, and drew out the likeness which
+Madeline had brought from Boston for his mother.
+
+"Here is the face of my kind little friend," said the boy, "I shall
+often talk to it when far away."
+
+"I have nothing but the sea-weed and the shells to look at, Roland;
+but in my heart the memory of all the wise and precious things which
+you have taught me."
+
+"It is time for me to go now, Maddy.  Good-bye; I am sure that we
+shall meet again."
+
+Madeline looked up with such a bright smile through her tears, and
+said.
+
+"Remember, Roland, what I have always said, that you will come back
+to Woodcliff a great man; and I shall be so glad to see the upstarts
+around us bowing down to Roland Gordon Bruce, the son of poor widow
+Bruce.  Good-bye, Roland; I shall never forget the lessons of Maple
+Lane School, or the happy days that we have spent together."  Giving
+her hand to Roland, they exchanged a parting clasp, and Madeline
+turned to leave the cemetery.
+
+Roland sat down upon his mother's grave, and watched the childish
+form until she was seen no more; then, bowing his head upon his
+hands, he could no longer restrain the silent tears that would chase
+each other down his cheeks.
+
+"Thus fade my earthly friends," sighed the boy; "first my mother,
+then Madeline, this precious little friend, then Effie, my darling
+sister, next, and I shall be alone--a waif upon the wide, wide world;
+but no, not a waif while God lives and my Saviour reigns, for,
+blessed be his name!  I can trust him still."
+
+The little stock at the cottage was soon disposed of, and after all
+their mother's debts were paid, nothing remained but a few dollars,
+which Effie insisted Roland should take with him in his first
+encounter with the world.  Effie was comfortably settled at
+Woodcliff, Roland stayed at old Peter's cabin a day or two, and Lucy
+and Lavinia had returned to Boston.
+
+"A letter from papa, dear aunt," exclaimed Maddy; "he is in New York,
+and will be here to-night," and she was nearly wild with delight.
+"Won't I surprise him with a morning serenade on my harp!" and she
+had it brought into the room adjoining her father's, that she might
+awake him in the morning with her music.
+
+There was no more composure for Madeline during the whole of that
+day--busy in her father's chamber, and in the library to see that all
+was prepared for his comfort, adding, as the last touch, some sweet
+flowers for both rooms.  Madeline tried to settle herself to some
+employment, but all in vain, until she uncovered her harp; practising
+some of her best pieces, she spent the rest of the morning in
+preparing for her serenade.  Evening at length arrived, and with it
+her dear father.  Folded once more in his arms, Madeline was
+perfectly happy for the moments following his arrival.
+
+The evening was spent in showing the beautiful things that Mr.
+Hamilton had brought for Madeline and her aunt; nor was Effie
+forgotten by the kind man.
+
+"Something will arrive to-morrow, Maddy, that I could not bring with
+me, on account of its bulk; I know that it will please you best of
+all."
+
+Handsome dresses, laces, gloves, and jewelry were lavished upon the
+idolized child.
+
+Mr. Hamilton was a happy man, once more seated in the midst of his
+family--fatigued, he retired early to rest; and, rising early in the
+morning, stood at his window to enjoy the beauty of a magnificent
+sunrise.  While quietly looking upon the scene, he thought that he
+heard the sound of very low, sweet music; for a moment, it ceased;
+and he thought that he must have been mistaken; but again it swelled
+out in deep rich chords of melody, accompanied by a charming
+voice--it seemed very near, certainly in the next room.  Opening the
+door, what was his surprise to see Madeline, in her night-dress,
+seated at a harp, performing most delightfully, and singing a song of
+welcome for her father.  He listened in delighted silence until the
+close, then exclaimed,
+
+"Why, my daughter! what does all this mean?  How in the world did you
+accomplish all this without my knowledge?"
+
+"It was commenced in Boston, papa; and during your absence, I have
+applied myself diligently, determined to surprise you."
+
+"Well, truly!  I think that the fairies must have been very busy,
+Maddy, both with you and me."
+
+"Why with you, dear papa?  Have you been learning too, without my
+knowledge?"
+
+"You will know to-day what I mean, dear; but really, you could have
+done nothing that could have pleased me better, than this pleasant
+surprise."
+
+Mr. Hamilton seemed to be very frequently at the front door, watching
+evidently for an arrival; at length, Madeline's curiosity to know
+what was coming, was about to be satisfied, for a wagon turned into
+the avenue, bringing a very large and singularly-shaped packing-box.
+
+It was brought into the house and soon opened, when, to Madeline's
+surprise, an elegant French harp appeared.
+
+Throwing her arms around her father's neck she exclaimed,
+
+"Thank you, dear, dear, papa; this is just what I wanted!  How in the
+world did you know it?"
+
+"Did I not tell you, Maddy, that the fairies must have been very
+busy?  But, candidly, I have always intended that you should study my
+favorite instrument, and have brought you one of the finest that I
+could obtain in Paris."
+
+"Is it not delightful that I have been taking lessons, papa?  Now I
+can send away the old harp, and have my own."
+
+For some weeks, Madeline was busily occupied with her beautiful
+instrument; but Mr. Hamilton was obliged to yield at last to the
+conviction, that he must part for a few years with his darling child,
+if she was ever to be properly educated for the sphere in which she
+was destined to move, for, under the weak guidance of Aunt Matilda,
+that could never be.
+
+As soon as he could obtain the co-operation of good Aunt Clara, a
+suitable boarding-school was solicited, and, after due preparation,
+Madeline was sent from home, to remain until her education should be
+completed.  It was a sore trial to both parent and child, and the
+parting nearly overcame the resolution of the father, who could
+scarcely endure the loneliness of Woodcliff without his darling.
+Poor Effie would also be very lonely, but Aunt Matilda was really
+kind at heart, and imposed nothing upon the young girl, but what she
+was fully competent to perform.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+A MOTHER'S LIFE SORROW.
+
+Madeline had been gone for some days, and Roland had nearly completed
+his arrangements.  He saw much of Effie, for the few remaining hours
+were precious to both.
+
+"Effie, meet me this evening in the cemetery, I wish to read you our
+mother's manuscripts."
+
+Effie promised.  The last evening had arrived, and the orphans met
+upon their mother's grave, for the sad farewell.  Roland untied the
+black ribbon, and commenced reading:--
+
+"When you read these lines, my dear children, my mortal remains will
+be sleeping in the quiet grave, but I myself shall be with Jesus, and
+that is enough of bliss for an immortal spirit.  I have thought it
+wise to make you acquainted with the history of my early life.  You
+know that my father was the minister of the parish where I was born.
+He was a wise and holy man, and gave me all the advantages of a good
+education.  My mother died when I was young, but my Aunt Ellen, my
+father's sister, came to take charge of the manse, and to bring up
+the motherless children.  She was an excellent woman, and faithfully
+performed the part of a mother.
+
+"I had a cousin, named Malcolm Graham, to whom I had been most
+tenderly attached from my earliest childhood.  We had roamed our
+native mountains, and sailed upon our Scottish lakes together; we had
+walked from earliest days to the house of God in company, had sang
+from the same hymn-book, and had joined the church on the same day.
+We sang the same Scottish songs, loved the same wild stories of our
+martyred ancestors.  In fine, we were as one soul; no love was ever
+purer, holier, deeper than that which filled our young hearts for
+each other.
+
+"My father and my aunt were blinded; they had been so accustomed to
+look upon us as brother and sister, that nothing could have surprised
+my father more, than when Malcolm came to ask that the current of our
+lives might henceforth flow in one calm, holy channel.
+
+"'It canna' be, Malcolm; you are owre near akin; I could na' ask the
+Master's blessing upon sic a union.'
+
+"'Oh, Uncle Gordon, ye canna' break your Mary's heart, by sic an
+answer?'
+
+"'Why did I na' ken this before?  I might ha' seen it a'.'
+
+"Malcolm pleaded his cause earnestly; my father loved us both
+tenderly.  At the end of a week, he gave his unwilling consent, on
+the ground that, as he had blindly allowed the intimacy, he had not
+the heart to say nay, and we were betrothed.
+
+"At the same time, Stephen Bruce, the son of my father's most
+intimate friend, renewed his addresses, for since I had grown to
+early womanhood, he had twice a-year, offered his hand, and been
+refused.  This was the man that my father favored.  He was a reserved
+and rather gloomy man, but his love for me was an all-absorbing
+passion.  He had a good moral character, was well off in the world,
+and moreover, was the son of my father's bosom friend.  Malcolm was
+poor in the possessions of the world, but rich in all that could
+ennoble and dignify a man.  There was but little prospect of his
+rising in the world, in an obscure part of Scotland.  An opportunity
+offered for him to enter upon a lucrative situation in China; he
+accepted; my heart sank within me, for I felt that a wide ocean would
+soon separate us, and I feared that I should never see the face of
+Malcolm Graham again.
+
+"My father encouraged the step.  I could see the secret joy of
+Stephen Bruce, and I felt as if I could never consent.  But Malcolm
+was young and hopeful; he saw at the end of his long exile, a sweet
+happy home among our native mountains, where we should share life's
+joys and sorrows; and, at last, I became reconciled to the thought.
+
+"We parted at the sweet trysting place where we had so often met in
+the happy days of our young affection.  On the banks of the lake,
+near our quiet home, stood a clump of old trees, whose branches
+dipped gracefully in the placid water.
+
+"Thither we walked slowly to spend our last sad hours.  I wore the
+light blue snood of a Scottish maiden, which somewhat confined my
+curls.
+
+"'Shall I hae one, Mary?' asked my cousin.
+
+"I cut one from my head, and tied it with a piece of the blue ribbon
+of my snood.
+
+"Malcolm placed it in a little pocket-book, and laid it away in his
+bosom.
+
+"After hours of silent weeping, he bade me farewell, and I felt as if
+a load of lead sank down into my heart, as I watched his retreating
+form until he vanished from my sight.
+
+"For two years, letters came regularly; all bright, encouraging,
+hopeful; he was fast acquiring a fortune, and would return in another
+year.  In the meanwhile, Stephen Bruce increased his assiduities; I
+could not banish him from the house, because he was the son of my
+father's friend.  In another year, a letter announced that Malcolm
+would sail in the ship Neptune for Liverpool, and that I might expect
+him in October, when I must be ready to fulfil my vow.  I was a happy
+creature then; all the intervening time was passed in making my
+simple preparations.
+
+"Aunt Ellen was a thrifty housekeeper, and took great pride in the
+quantity of bed and table-linen which her niece must have.  I was
+occupied chiefly with my wardrobe.  My father did not seem much
+rejoiced, for he had never given up his Scotch prejudice against the
+marriage of first cousins; but he was a man of too much integrity to
+break a given promise.  The summer passed, the falling leaves were
+musical to me, for they brought October; the month passed, but no
+news of the Neptune.  November passed in the same manner.  December
+began to drag its cold and dreary days along, but still no news.  At
+length, one morning, my father entered the family parlor with a grave
+countenance, and a newspaper in his hand.  'Ellen, will you come into
+my study?' said my father to my aunt.
+
+"My heart gave a sudden bound; for I had long been so anxious, that
+even the fluttering of a leaf would affect me.  I saw my father's
+face; it was ominous.  Aunt Ellen returned, and sitting down by my
+side, she said, tenderly, 'Mary, can ye bear bad news?'
+
+"'What is it, Aunt Ellen?' I replied, starting to my feet; 'tell me,
+tell all; anything is better than suspense.'
+
+"She laid her hand upon my young head, and softly smoothed the
+rippling hair that lay upon my forehead and down my temples.
+
+"'The Neptune has foundered at sea, Mary, and Malcolm Graham is among
+the missing.'
+
+"I heard no more; for hours I lay stunned and insensible; for weeks,
+between life and death.  At length, a good constitution, under the
+direction of a wise but inscrutable Providence, triumphed, and I
+awoke to take up the duties of my daily life with a sad and chastened
+spirit.
+
+"My father redoubled his kindness; but it was evident that Malcolm's
+removal was a relief.
+
+"The only request I made was: 'Do not allow Stephen Bruce to visit
+the manse; I could not bear it.'
+
+"My request was complied with.  During all this time, I never wholly
+lost my hope; I would say to myself: 'Among the missing, not the
+lost; Malcolm may yet be alive.'
+
+"Two years of silent sorrow passed--the light of my life had gone
+out.  I busied myself about my father's house, my brother's clothes,
+and in the duties belonging to me, as the minister's daughter; but
+joy had passed away.
+
+"I seldom saw Stephen Bruce, excepting at church; but I knew that my
+father visited him.  Occasionally I met him by the road-side, but he
+never joined me.
+
+"This delicacy of conduct gained my respect; and when my father at
+last requested, for his own sake, that the son of his old friend
+might visit him, I consented; for my father had been very kind to me.
+
+"He came occasionally, was always polite and respectful to me,
+nothing more.
+
+"At the close of the third year, after Malcolm's loss, my father
+called me to him, and said: 'My daughter, I hae tried to be
+considerate and kind to ye; I hae placed nae compulsion upon your
+inclinations; now, I hae ane request to make; will ye not allow
+Stephen to renew his addresses?  He is just as devoted to you as
+ever; he has luved ye faithfully for ten years, ever since yer
+childish days.  If his devotion and worth can na overcome yer
+repugnance, or rather indifference, I hae nae mair to say; but it
+would please yer father if ye would allow him to renew his visits to
+ye personally.'
+
+"'Give me a week to think of it, father; that is all I ask.'
+
+"At the end of that time, I agreed to my father's proposal.  I felt
+that all my love was in the deep ocean buried with Malcolm Graham,
+and that duty must henceforth rule my life; to please my father only,
+I consented.  Stephen was very considerate, but I saw that the same
+devotion filled his heart.  He was so anxious to please, so humble,
+so undemonstrative, that I could not but pity him.  I treated him
+with kindness, and sometimes even with tenderness; then he was so
+grateful for the smallest act, that it touched my woman's heart.
+
+"At last, when in trembling tones he ventured once more to urge his
+suit, I did not discourage him; I simply told him to wait.  "'Bless
+ye, Mary! e'en for that,' was the grateful answer.
+
+"At the close of the fourth year, I consented to become his wife.  He
+wept in the fulness of his joy, and my father was happy; but the name
+of Malcolm Graham could never be mentioned in his presence.  If by
+chance it was, dark frowns would lower on his brow, and it was at all
+times a forbidden subject.
+
+"He was a kind husband, and I tried to be a faithful wife; but in the
+twilight gloaming there were times when the memory of my cousin
+poured over my heart like a flood.
+
+"The next year after our marriage, you were sent, Roland, to form a
+new tie between us.  You were a lovely babe, and your mother was
+proud of the sweet infant that smiled upon her from his cradle.
+
+"Stephen Bruce was a handsome man, Roland, and you were like him; the
+same profusion of dark hair, the same dark eyes; but there was always
+about you, Roland, an open frankness, that never characterized your
+father.  He was constitutionally reserved and taciturn, often gloomy.
+
+"Our married life flowed smoothly along for two years.  We lived at
+the manse; for my father could not part from his only daughter.  He
+was very fond of little Roland, and the presence of a baby in the
+house was a sunbeam across his path.
+
+"One very stormy winter evening, I was rocking my little boy to
+sleep, singing some sweet cradle-song.  The wind howled fearfully
+without, and the snow came down in heavy drifts.  I heard a footstep
+on the little porch in front of the manse; it seemed to be a man
+knocking off the snow before entering.
+
+"The family dog gave a familiar bark of joy, and a voice that I
+thought drowned in the deep ocean said: 'Down, Shep! down, sir.'  My
+heart stood still.  The next moment, the door opened, and Malcolm
+Graham stood before me.  He extended his arms.
+
+"'Mary!  Mary!' he cried, 'hae ye na welcome?'
+
+"I started to my feet; I am sure that my eyes must have glared with
+terror.  I sank upon the chair by the side of the cradle, and
+pressing my hand upon my heart, continued gazing.  I was speechless
+with terror and grief.
+
+"'What is in that cradle, Mary?'
+
+"'It is my child, my babe, Malcolm.'
+
+"'Tell me its name, Mary Gordon.'
+
+"'Roland Gordon Bruce,' I answered, in trembling tones.
+
+"He struck his head with both his hands in anguish--'Hae I come home
+for this?  Oh, Mary! how could ye sae forget me?'
+
+"'I thought you dead, Malcolm; and by this marriage, I have made my
+father happy.'
+
+"'Look here, Mary!' said the wretched man.  Opening his vest, he took
+out an old worn pocket-book, from which he drew the lock of golden
+hair, tied with the faded ribbon of the maiden's snood, that I gave
+him on the night of our parting.
+
+"'I hae never parted with it, Mary, and it shall go wi' me to my
+grave.'
+
+"I was near fainting; no words can paint the anguish of that hour.
+
+"'Go, Malcolm, go; you must not be seen here.  I cannot even shelter
+you from the storm.  I can pray for you, Malcolm, but we must meet no
+more.'
+
+"My cousin advanced--before I could prevent it, he clasped me to his
+bosom, pressed one last kiss upon my icy forehead, and in another
+minute was gone.
+
+"Alas! alas! just as he passed out, my husband entered.  He knew
+him--it was Malcolm Graham, the one whom he had always feared as his
+rival in the affections of the one he loved.
+
+"'How dare he enter this house?' was the first salutation.
+
+"'He thought that I lived here yet as Mary Gordon, husband.  You have
+no reason to fear either him or her whom you call by the sacred name
+of wife.'
+
+"He was pale with anger; fire shot from his dark eyes.  I was
+terrified.  I walked up to Stephen Bruce, and laid my hand upon his
+arm.
+
+"'Stephen, am I not your wedded wife? wedded in the sight of Heaven!
+do you think that I, Mary Gordon, the descendant of heroic martyrs,
+can ever forget her plighted faith, plighted before God's holy altar?'
+
+"'No, Mary, you will not forget your duty as a wife; but your heart
+is wi' Malcolm Graham, your early luve.'
+
+"'Stephen, Malcolm is dead to me--we shall never meet again.  I do
+not wish him to cross our path.'
+
+"From that hour our domestic peace was at an end.  The family malady
+had certainly made its appearance in the case of my unhappy husband.
+I was kind, affectionate, attentive to all his wants.  I hushed the
+voice of memory, and learned to be even cheerful in the performance
+of daily duties.  I looked upward daily, hourly, Roland, and I was
+sustained in my hour of trial.
+
+"I begged my father to see Malcolm, and tell him to keep out of my
+husband's way.  He explained all to the unhappy man, and related his
+sad story.
+
+"He had been wrecked, taken prisoner, and landed in Algiers, without
+the possibility of communicating one line to his friends.
+
+"In company with six others, after an absence of seven years, he had
+made his escape.  He promised my father to leave the country, for he
+saw that with the fancy which had seized my husband's brain, nothing
+else could restore domestic harmony.  Accordingly he went, but the
+evening before, I was sitting in the parlor of the manse.  It was
+autumn--the windows were open, and I was alone.  I saw the figure of
+a man walking slowly up the path that led to the house.  He crossed
+the porch, and for one minute, stood gazing in at the window.  It was
+Malcolm Graham.  He held up once more the golden lock.
+
+"'Farewell, Mary; I cannot gae without your blessing.'
+
+"'God bless you forever and ever,' was the reply which burst from my
+trembling lips.  He walked hastily away, stood at the gate for one
+moment, waved his hand, and was gone.
+
+"I hoped for peace now that he had left the country.  While he was in
+Scotland, your father would sit for hours gloomy and silent without
+exchanging a word; then he would suddenly take his hat, and set out
+to search for Malcolm, imagining that he was always lurking about the
+manse.  And even after he had gone, I could not regain his confidence.
+
+"The memory of my poor cousin was the shadow in your father's life,
+the ghost that haunted him day and night.
+
+"Malcolm was gone for several years, but your father never wholly
+recovered his spirits.
+
+"In the meanwhile, Effie was born, and the duties of daughter, wife
+and mother fully engrossed my daily life.
+
+"When you were about nine years old, Malcolm suddenly returned.  He
+was now a rich man; he bought a home, furnished it, and took home a
+widowed sister and child to preside over his household.
+
+"Life had disciplined his Christian character; he was cheerful and
+serene.  It made me happy to hear that he was foremost in all the
+schemes for good around the neighborhood, and the name of Malcolm
+Graham was everywhere revered.
+
+"He was often called 'the good old bachelor,' for though many mammas
+would have liked to place their daughters at the head of his
+establishment, it was evident that no such thoughts ever disturbed
+the dreams of 'good Uncle Malcolm.'
+
+"From the time that he returned, your father's gloom and restlessness
+increased.  The mania had seized upon him again, and nothing would
+do, but that the wide ocean must separate his wife from the country
+where Malcolm lived, although we had no kind of social intercourse.
+We met at church, and that was all.  Much to my aged father's grief,
+hasty preparations were made to go to America.
+
+"He was devoted to me and my dear children, and could not bear the
+thoughts of my leaving home and dear friends to embark upon the
+ocean, and go to seek a home in a strange country, with a man so
+gloomy and suspicious as your father had become.
+
+"But during all these trials, my God sustained me, and while
+conscious of being in the path of duty, I was even cheerful.
+
+"We left Scotland; for awhile we lived comfortably, and your father's
+malady seemed to diminish.  One drawback there was always to my
+happiness, and that was, that your father seemed so anxious to break
+up all connection with Scotland, that I was not allowed to write home
+for months, for fear that I should hear something about Malcolm.
+
+"At length he returned to Scotland, for the purpose of settling his
+affairs, and making America his permanent home.  On the voyage back
+again, the vessel was lost, and no word was ever heard from him again.
+
+"About this time, poor Elsie Gibson appeared among us.  I never could
+understand why or how it was, but she always seemed acquainted with
+our affairs, and interested in all that concerned us.  There came
+regular remittances, they seemed to come from New York, and were left
+at our door in the evening.  At last I observed that Elsie Gibson
+appeared among us in a day or two after these packages came, and
+always contrived to find out about their safe arrival.  At last they
+ceased altogether, and then came the days of poverty and trial, which
+you, my darlings, have patiently shared.  I wrote home frequently,
+but received no answers.
+
+"Several times there have been mysterious visits at night around our
+dwelling; once or twice have I seen the figure of a man peeping in at
+our window, and many other circumstances have led me to conjecture
+that your father may yet be alive, and that Elsie Gibson knows
+something about him.  She told me that your dear grandfather died
+soon after your father disappeared, and although we heard once or
+twice from Aunt Ellen, that ceased also, and I fear that she is no
+more.
+
+"If it is in your power, Roland, I wish you to seek your friends in
+Scotland; there must be some left.  I have told you this sad story,
+my dear children, first because I want to warn you both of forming
+connections for life, with any one, for any other reason save that of
+deliberate heartfelt choice.  I acted from what I supposed to be
+duty; it was productive of happiness to none concerned.
+
+"And another reason is, that by telling you my supposition that your
+father may yet be alive, Roland may try all that is in his power to
+find out the truth, and to comfort that afflicted parent, for if he
+is in the land of the living, he is in sorrow, of that I am sure.
+
+"Nothing beside death could separate him so permanently from us, but
+the malady which I have always dreaded.  And now, my dear children,
+let me once more bid you, in every hour of sore affliction through
+which you may be called to pass, look upward; upward for direction,
+upward for comfort, upward for hope.  God is 'the Father of the
+fatherless;' remember the sweet promise, 'When my father and my
+mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up.'  I can leave you
+in his gracious care.  'May he guide you with his counsel here, and,
+after that, receive you to glory.'
+
+"I have done with earthly care and sorrow.  I wait for you, my loved
+ones; I know that you will come to me, and that with our precious
+Saviour throughout eternity we shall rejoice as much in the sorrows
+that we have suffered, as in the joys vouchsafed, if they have helped
+to bring us home to glory.
+
+"I need not say, do not forget your mother; I know that you will not.
+Keep close to your Saviour.  Let your motto always be, 'Looking
+aloft,' 'Looking aloft;' through joy and through sorrow, still
+'Looking aloft.'"
+
+After closing the manuscript, both the orphans sat weeping upon their
+mother's grave.
+
+"How quietly she sleeps! dear, tried, and patient mother!" said
+Roland.  "How blessed is her rest in that world of peace and love!
+Do not weep so, Effie, God is in Heaven; do not lose sight of his
+promises; have they ever failed, dear sister?  He will take care of
+us, he will guide us, I know, if we put our trust in him."
+
+"I am so weak, Roland; since I have lost our mother, I feel as if I
+was all alone in the wide world; and now you are going too."
+
+"But I shall come back, Effie; I may have a great many trials and
+disappointments, but I can trust the hand that guided Noah, and
+Daniel, and Elijah, that delivered Peter, and so many of his dear
+servants; and Effie, don't let us doubt his love, when, to make the
+promises sure, he gave up his dear Son, and nailed him to the cross
+to make his word, 'Yea and Amen.'"
+
+"I'll try, Roland, to be trustful as you; but I am a weak and timid
+disciple."
+
+"Just think, Effie, that every drop of precious blood was just like
+setting the seal to all the blessed promises; and do you believe that
+the Saviour who could die for us would ever forget us?"
+
+"How you comfort me, Roland; your words are always so kind, so
+strong."
+
+"Don't let us forget our sainted mother's motto, Effie, 'Looking
+aloft!'  Oh, what blessedness in such a holy trust!"
+
+While seated thus, Roland perceived Elsie Gibson advancing towards
+them.  When any change was about to take place in their earthly
+destiny, there was always the same old friend.  They could not fathom
+the mystery; but so it was.
+
+"And sae ye are aboot to leave us, Roland," said the old woman; "ye
+are the chiel o' mony prayers, and belang to the race o' the
+righteous.  I dinna fear for ye, my bairn."
+
+"I do not fear, Elsie; I am almost penniless, but the promises are
+all the same."
+
+"I hae something for ye, Roland," continued the old woman, and taking
+a gold watch from her pocket, she continued, "It is your ain; dinna
+part with it, my son."
+
+Roland examined it, and found inside the case the initials of S.B.
+It was a handsome article, and Roland's wonder was unbounded.  S.B.,
+what could that mean?  And how was it that Elsie Gibson, so poor a
+woman, could afford to give him a watch?
+
+"Where did this watch come from?" asked Roland, "and what right have
+I to such a gift?"
+
+"Dinna fash yoursel aboot it, Roland; it is by right your ain, and
+some day ye'll ken how----.  I shall like to hear o' your welfare, my
+dear bairn."
+
+"I thank you, Elsie, for your kindness to us all.  God will bless
+you, I am sure."
+
+"May the widow's God be wi' ye, Roland, thro' a' your wanderings in
+the wilderness," and shaking hands warmly with both the orphans, she
+vanished from the cemetery.  None had ever traced the old woman to
+her home, if home she had.
+
+"Farewell now, Effie," said her brother, as he folded his sister in a
+warm embrace.
+
+She could not speak, but lay on his bosom overpowered with the grief
+of parting.
+
+"Take me home, Roland," said the poor child, and they walked in
+silence to the gate at Woodcliff.  One more embrace in silence, one
+long, agonized kiss, and Effie turned up the avenue with a heart too
+full for utterance.
+
+Mother, brother, Madeline--all gone.  Nothing was left to the
+desolate orphan but her Father in Heaven.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+STARS IN THE NIGHT SEASON.
+
+Out on the wide, wide world.  Roland could not but feel the
+loneliness, as at the early dawn, with nothing but a few clothes
+packed up in an old carpet bag, and a few dollars in his pocket, he
+turned his face away from what had once been home.  It had cost him,
+youth that he was, many an anxious thought and weary hour of toil, to
+help to keep it up; but it was the dear spot where a mother smiled
+and a sister cheered his return.
+
+He had paid his last visit, fastened the cottage windows, locked the
+door, and turned to leave the little home.  But what is that lying on
+the front porch?  it looks like a familiar object.  He stoops to pick
+it up.  It is a little book that his mother daily used, "Clark on the
+Promises."  Many a pencil mark is on its pages, and many a finger
+print pressed there by a hand that lies mouldering in the grave.  He
+lays it away among his treasures, and turns his footsteps towards the
+sea-shore.
+
+The lonely dashing of the waters at that early hour sounded so
+drearily, and recalled most forcibly the beautiful lines of Tennyson.
+
+  "Break, break, break,
+    On thy cold gray stones, oh sea!
+  And I would that my tongue could utter
+    The thoughts that arise in me.
+
+  "O, well for the fisherman's boy
+    That he shouts with his sister at play!
+  O, well for the sailor lad,
+    That he sings in his boat on the bay
+
+  "And the stately ships go on,
+    To their haven under the hill,
+  But oh, for the touch of a vanished hand!
+    And the sound of a voice that is still.
+
+  "Break, break, break,
+    At the foot of thy crags, oh sea!
+  But the tender grace of a day that is dead,
+    Will never come back to me."
+
+
+He mounted the rock once more, leaned against the flagstaff, and
+looked out dreamily upon the wide expanse of ocean, emblem to him of
+the untried world beyond.  Then he turned to look upon the spot where
+he had first seen Madeline in all her childish grace.  It had been a
+sweet dream with which to commence his young life--a peep into a home
+of elegance and refinement--a year's communion with a fresh young
+spirit, so free, so wild, so guileless.  Some pleasant thoughts
+stirred in the soul of the youth, and caused a smile to flit across
+his face, as he felt that perhaps he might have awakened in that
+bright child some incipient longings after a better life.
+
+Then his thoughts turned to the reality; the hard, stern reality, the
+battle of life, so soon to commence.
+
+"These bright things are not for me," sighed Roland; "they might
+enervate my character.  God knows that it will be better schooled in
+the path which strikes the steel within.  What a precious talisman my
+dear mother has left me, 'Looking aloft!' upward where I see the
+works of the Creator, the smiles of God; upward, where I see the path
+trodden by all the good and great of the earth; you shall never be
+ashamed of your son, mother."  The word "mother" was spoken audibly,
+the holy name stirred up the depths of Roland's soul, and he wept
+aloud.
+
+It was but a moment of indulgence; for, taking up his carpet-bag, he
+commenced his journey on foot.  And whither? like faithful Abraham,
+he went out, not knowing whither he went.
+
+He had heard of a neighboring college about one hundred and fifty
+miles off, where the President, himself a self-made man, had sympathy
+with struggling aspirants.
+
+"I can but try," thought the youth; "I'll go trusting, and I may
+succeed."
+
+All day long he journeyed with a springing, elastic step, for hope
+was strong within him.  He stopped to take his meals, and to read a
+verse or two in his mother's precious book of the promises.  When
+evening approached, Roland began to cast about for a night's lodging.
+He did not want to spend his money, he had so little; that he must
+keep for his books.  But what to do?  He could not sleep out upon the
+ground, it was too cold.
+
+Not far off, he perceived a neat-looking farm-house.  Two or three
+children were playing about in the front lawn; the mother, a pleasant
+looking woman, came to the door, and with such a kind, cheerful voice
+called in her little ones to tea, that Roland felt she will not
+refuse me a place in her barn.  I can but ask.  He walked directly up
+to the front door with a firm, manly step, and knocked.  The mistress
+of the house appeared.
+
+"I called to ask, ma'am, if you will allow me to sleep in your barn
+to-night; I have walked twenty miles to-day, and have no place where
+to rest."
+
+Mrs. Romaine was really a kind woman, but here was a stranger, "Would
+it be safe?"
+
+"Where is thee going, my boy?"
+
+"I am on my road to College, ma'am, and I have yet one hundred and
+thirty miles to travel."
+
+"Going to College, my son, and no means to pay for a night's lodging;
+thee must be a brave boy to start on such an errand."
+
+"My mother told me to stop at nothing to get a good education; it was
+on her death-bed, madam, and I will do any thing to obtain such a
+blessing."
+
+"Don't thee know it takes money to go through college?  But thee must
+be tired; come, sit down, my son; what is thy name?"
+
+"Roland Bruce."
+
+"How does thee expect to get through, Roland?"
+
+"I can work, madam," said Roland, with a bright smile.  "I am very
+strong, and very willing; and I have my mother's motto to work by."
+
+"What is that, Roland?"
+
+"'Looking aloft,' madam; it is a strong tower."
+
+He was in New England, where sympathy with one thus anxious was sure
+to meet a response.
+
+"Thee can stay with us, Roland, to-night, but not in a barn; we have
+a little room where thee can sleep.  But come in, thee must be
+hungry."
+
+And the kind woman led her guest out to the tea-table, where a
+comfortable repast was already spread.
+
+"What can thee do, Roland, in the way of work?"
+
+"I can make fires, black boots, saw wood, etc.; and, I suppose that
+there must be plenty of such work in a college."
+
+"But suppose the boys look down upon thee, Roland?"
+
+"I can afford to let them, if I get all the knowledge I want; they
+won't do it always; I am above getting angry at them, madam."
+
+"Thee is a strange boy, Roland; so humble, and yet so proud, too."
+
+"I am afraid that there is not so much humility as there seems to be
+about me; for all this stooping down is but to rise at last; I shall
+be thinking of that all the time."
+
+"When thee is ready, I will show thee thy room, Roland."
+
+They sat and chatted pleasantly for another hour, and, when Roland
+saw the family making preparations for retiring, he followed his kind
+hostess to a snug little room, opening out on a front balcony.
+
+Roland was too full of earnest thought for sleep; so, taking a chair,
+he seated himself alone on the balcony.
+
+The family had all retired; quiet reigned around.  It was a clear,
+cold night, and the bright stars shone out, and spangled the heavens
+with their radiant constellations Roland looked upward, and listened
+to their voiceless eloquence.
+
+How long had they continued their silent march of glory?
+
+Centuries had rolled by, and year after year had they travelled the
+same wondrous circles, with the same marvellous precision.  The north
+star had pointed the mariner on the stormy deep, to his desired
+haven.  Orion, with his glorious belt of stars, on the same day of
+the month, at the same hour, might ever be seen in the same point of
+the heavens; the beauteous Pleiades, obedient too, wheeled in their
+wondrous course.  Ursa Major, at all times, might be looked upon as a
+familiar friend; and amid them all, the grand planets had joined the
+mysterious dance of the universe.  Orbit within orbit, sun beyond
+sun, each the centre of other solar systems, had wheeled into their
+wondrous revolutions; obedient to the same laws, without confusion,
+without noise, (for great works are ever noiseless,) from century to
+century; and to-night, guided by the same Omnipotent hand, amid the
+unceasing silent whirl, Roland sits and listens to their eloquent
+teachings.
+
+"These are material things," thought Roland, "destined at last to be
+rolled up like a scroll and pass away, but I am an immortal.  These
+transient orbs are the objects of His unceasing care, and shall I, an
+immortal being, fear to trust my all in His wise and gracious hands?
+His providence, with its myriad of wheels, is just as surely guided
+as are these heavenly orbs.  I remember the night when my mother
+showed me these bright constellations, and the very lesson that she
+taught me.  I can look upward to-night, and recall it all.  Stars in
+the night season speak comforting words.  It seemed dark night when I
+left Woodcliff, but the stars are shining around my path, as well as
+in the heavens; for was it not the good providence of God that led me
+to this sweet chamber, when all I hoped for was a barn?"
+
+Thus communed Roland with the starry heavens, and, after having
+committed himself in perfect trust to the care of his Heavenly
+Father, he laid him down and slept in peace.  "So he giveth his
+beloved sleep."
+
+By the dawn of day he was astir, and after an early breakfast,
+prepared once more for his journey.
+
+"Thee will have a pleasant day, Roland; it is clear and cold, and
+bracing to a young frame like thine."
+
+Roland bade his kind hostess good-bye with a grateful heart.
+
+"You have cheered me with your kind words, Mrs. Romaine, and the
+blessing of the orphan's God will be upon you."
+
+"Farewell, Roland; I hope thee will be successful; many of our great
+men have started just as thee has."
+
+Roland did not draw upon his provisions again until the middle of the
+day, when to his surprise he found that a large stock of substantials
+had been added to his store.
+
+Twice in the course of his journey he slept in a barn; he had met
+with some rough treatment, but enough of kindness to show that a good
+Providence was guiding his steps.
+
+At the close of the sixth day, Roland came in sight of the college
+walls.
+
+A number of the students were strolling on the lawn in front of the
+building.  Several scrutinized him closely, but Roland walked
+steadily forward, with head erect, and firm step.
+
+"Here, I say, Charley, what do you think of the new arrival?" said
+George Stanley to a companion; "extensive trunks, hey!"
+
+Roland turned a moment; there was something in his eye that Charley
+did not relish, and he moved away.
+
+At length he reached the President's room, and was directed to be
+seated.
+
+After a short time, a small man, with rather an uninviting aspect,
+appeared.
+
+"What is your business, my boy?" asked the President.
+
+"I am seeking an education, sir," replied Roland, in a direct,
+straight-forward manner.
+
+"Who is your father, sir?"
+
+"I have none, sir."
+
+"Your mother?"
+
+"I am an orphan, sir."
+
+"Your friends?  I mean responsible persons, sir."
+
+"I have none, sir."
+
+"Your means?"
+
+"None at all, but these hands, feet, and head, sir."
+
+"I am afraid that we cannot take you."
+
+"I will do anything, sir; I will saw wood, make fires, black shoes,
+anything but cheat, sir.  I won't say that I can pay you, as some
+might promise, for I never can."
+
+Dr. Kingsley was an eccentric, but a really noble-hearted man; he had
+taken one glance at Roland which had interested him, and his
+questions had been put to try him.
+
+He had marked the fine dark eye, the expansive brow, and the sweet,
+but firm-set mouth; he had listened to the straight-forward appeal of
+the youth; it brought back his own early struggles, and he felt as if
+such a boy had a right to an education of the highest order.
+
+"Are you aware, my young friend, how trying is the position which you
+propose?  If you are mentally and morally superior, are you willing
+to be treated as an inferior, and perhaps sometimes scorned?"
+
+"I can brush away gnats, sir," replied Roland, with an expressive
+toss of his hand; "for I am a Scotch boy, with Scotch pride enough to
+sustain me.  If they scorn me for doing right, what care I?"
+
+"What is your name, sir?"
+
+"Roland Gordon Bruce, sir."
+
+"A fine name--the Gordons were distinguished among Scottish martyrs,
+if I mistake not."
+
+"They were, sir; and I trust that I shall never dishonor the name I
+bear."
+
+"You can come, Roland," said Dr. Kingsley, in a softer tone of voice.
+
+Roland had endured the hard tone of scrutiny with calmness; but the
+free consent was more than he could bear.  He rose suddenly to his
+feet, seized Dr. Kingsley's hand, and with a glowing cheek, and eye
+suffused with feeling, exclaimed--
+
+"Thank you, dear sir; I have no words to express all that I feel."
+
+Dr. Kingsley turned his head away, for he did not care that Roland
+should see his emotion, but continued--
+
+"Where is your baggage, sir?"
+
+"It is there, Dr. Kingsley," said the boy, smiling, and pointing to
+his carpet-bag; "that contains all my worldly goods."
+
+"And where are your books, Roland? that is an expensive item,"
+continued the President.
+
+"I have none, sir.  I have about five dollars, sir; will that
+suffice?"
+
+"We shall see, Roland."
+
+Dr. Kingsley had a sudden call for his handkerchief.  Blowing his
+nose violently, he recovered his equanimity.
+
+He sent for the Janitor--"Show this boy to the small attic room, No.
+70, and see that he is well attended to, Mr. James.  Remain here one
+moment, Roland;" and the good man hurried Mr. James out into the
+hall--"Be kind to this boy; he is made of noble stuff--don't let the
+fellows impose upon him; he is poor as a church mouse; but he is
+proud, and brave as a lion."
+
+Mr. James conducted Roland to his little attic, where he soon
+deposited his worldly goods; and at the ringing of the supper-bell,
+made his first appearance among the world of students.  He took a
+seat appointed at the foot of the room, at a side-table, among the
+younger boys, and glanced around him.  His clothes were mean and
+shabby, compared with any by whom he was surrounded; but there was a
+quiet manly air of independence, as he sat with head thrown back, one
+arm leaning upon the table, and a calm straight-forward look in his
+eagle eye, that repelled insolence; and Roland was allowed to sit
+among them in silence, but without any welcome from the boys.
+
+After supper, as it was yet the time of freedom, many of the students
+strolled out upon the lawn.  Roland took his seat under a large oak
+tree, alone in the great crowd.
+
+A handsome boy, dressed in the height of fashion, advanced towards
+our novice.
+
+"You look lonely, sir; may I ask your name?"
+
+"Roland Bruce--and yours?"
+
+"Edmund Norris.  Now come and take a stroll with me."
+
+Roland joined his young companion.  Several of the boys tittered at
+the patronage.
+
+"Ned can do as he pleases," said George Stanley; "but I am a little
+more cautious about my acquaintances; I dare say he is only a charity
+boy; I saw the poor, mean carpetbag that he brought."
+
+Edmund Norris was a petted child of wealthy parents, but he had a
+warm, noble heart; and remembered the day when he came as a stranger
+among so many.  His great fault of character was want of firmness,
+easily led, and generous to a fault; consequently, he was a great
+favorite--a dangerous distinction for a college boy, with plenty of
+money.
+
+"You'll soon get acquainted with the boys that are worth knowing,"
+said Edmund.
+
+"I came only to study," answered Roland; "so that I can have my books
+and a quiet corner, I care not for the roughness of outward
+circumstances."
+
+"You'll find Dr. Kingsley a fine old fellow; he's hard upon us lazy
+ones, keen-eyed as a fox, none need try to deceive him."
+
+"I like his few words, and kind deeds," answered Roland.
+
+"Don't get home-sick--that is a horrid feeling, and all have it at
+first.  I dare say when you go to your room, you will go to sleep
+with moistened cheek, thinking of mother and home."
+
+"I have neither home nor mother; I am almost alone in this wide, wide
+world--none but a sister can I claim in America--good night, Mr.
+Norris."
+
+Roland returned to his room with a grateful heart.  Another star had
+arisen upon his night-season, and, as he looked out upon the spangled
+heavens, they seemed to smile upon the bright young aspirant, as he
+sank to sleep.
+
+Next morning, his examination took place, his studies were appointed,
+and his duties in the house defined.
+
+When he took the boots the first time from the students' doors, many
+of them were in the passage.
+
+"I told you that he was only a charity student," said George Stanley;
+"he's to be our boot-black, I see--it's a capital joke, by jingo!
+with his princely airs."
+
+But though performing these menial offices, his deportment in the
+class-rooms, and his superior recitations, commanded respect, in
+spite of the slurs cast upon him by mean spirits.
+
+He had marked out his course, notwithstanding all that might be done,
+steadily to perform his duties, to avoid the students generally, and,
+above all things, to employ all his leisure time in preparing for his
+recitations.
+
+It was a hard lot that Roland Bruce had chosen--it took him several
+hours at night to clean the boots, although he was aided by a little
+fellow in the employ of the institution; before the dawn of day, he
+was busy carrying up wood and making the fires, aided by the same
+little fellow.
+
+He allowed himself but six hours' sleep, and husbanded his time so
+carefully, that, with all his hard labor, he really accomplished more
+than half the students in the college.
+
+Added to his industry, Roland's talents were of no common order, and
+the faculty soon perceived that the humble boot-black of the college,
+would carry off most of its honors.
+
+"Holloa, Boots!" exclaimed George Stanley one morning, as Roland was
+passing through the halls with wood for the rooms.
+
+He passed on without noticing the insolence.  As he returned, Stanley
+was at the door.
+
+"Here, Boots!  I want to see you."
+
+"When you speak to me as you ought, I am ready to listen," answered
+Roland, with quiet dignity.
+
+"Well, Mr. Bruce, I want to say to you, that you don't polish my
+boots well."
+
+"Complain to the authorities, Mr. Stanley," and Roland passed on.
+
+"Proud as Lucifer!  I wish I could humble him, with his grand airs of
+superiority," said Stanley, as he banged the door of his room.
+
+"You humble him!" answered Edmund Norris; "a pigmy might as well try
+to reach the sun."
+
+"Why, what is he, Norris? but a mere boot-black for the college.  I
+won't stand his pride."
+
+"Go to the recitation room, if you want to see what Roland Bruce
+is--there is not a fellow in the college that can compete with him,
+notwithstanding all his hard labor."
+
+"I suppose that he is a prince in disguise, Norris, from the airs
+which he puts on."
+
+"He has done nothing to offend you, Stanley, and yet you take every
+opportunity to insult him.  I tell you, sir, that I know Roland
+Bruce--neither you nor I could have the independence which he
+exhibits; and, so far from humbling him, in my estimation, it exalts
+him; though I know that I never could reach it--I could not saw wood
+and black shoes for my education."
+
+When the students met again in the dining-hall, Norris stepped up to
+Roland, and said,
+
+"Your seat is by me henceforth at the table."
+
+"How is this?" inquired Roland, surprised.
+
+"I made the request, that's all; you shall be treated properly."
+
+Several of the students frowned on finding themselves so near to
+"Boots," as they termed him; when speaking _of_, not _to_ Roland
+Bruce.
+
+"How long since you were knighted, Sir Edmund?" asked Stanley; "I
+find that you have taken your place among the sons of chivalry."
+
+"If I am entitled to the name for righting the oppressed, very well,
+I _am_ Sir Edmund Norris."
+
+Roland, with his quiet dignity of demeanor, really did not look very
+much in need of patronage; although truly grateful to the generous
+young soul, who was always his champion.
+
+Our young student had secured the universal respect of the
+faculty--Dr. Kingsley was his firm, tried friend; he furnished him
+with all his necessary text-books, so that the five dollars were yet
+untouched.  Mrs. Jennings, the matron, was extremely kind, looking
+after his little stock of clothes, keeping them as neat as possible,
+and not unfrequently adding a collar or two, a handkerchief, or a
+pair of stockings to his scanty wardrobe.
+
+"Can't you stop in my room a minute, Roland?" said the good lady.
+
+"I thank you, my dear madam, but I really have no time to day."
+
+"Always busy, my son; may you be rewarded for your patient industry."
+
+"Thank you, my good, kind friend;" and Roland's heart swelled with
+emotion, for he had heard but one kind womanly voice since he had
+lost his dear mother, and that was good Mrs. Romaine's.
+
+"There is a box for you, Roland," said the janitor; and, much to his
+surprise, he found quite a large box in his little attic, accompanied
+by a letter from sister Effie; so full of love and tender
+recollection, that, for a moment, it quite unmanned him.
+
+"You will find many useful things, dear Roland; don't ask how I got
+them; my own hands made the shirts and hemmed the handkerchiefs; they
+come to you from a very dear friend.  The suit of clothes comes from
+Mr. Hamilton, who has heard of your course at college, and who was
+quite chagrined that you should go without seeing him; but the shirts
+and handkerchiefs are a secret."
+
+Roland opened the box, and there he found a suit of clothes, half a
+dozen shirts, stockings, and handkerchiefs, with other valuable and
+necessary things.
+
+He bowed his knee before his Father in Heaven, and blessed him for
+the gift, for really his old clothes were completely worn out.
+
+Stars in the night season shining still around him--why should he
+ever doubt?
+
+Edmund met him with a beaming countenance in the dining hall, not
+that he cared any more for Roland in his neat mourning suit, but it
+did please him to see his friend taking his seat among his fellows,
+in the garb of a gentleman.
+
+Who could have sent the shirts and handkerchiefs? but one kind friend
+could he think of, and that was Madeline Hamilton.  He knew that
+whatever she desired, was granted to her by her indulgent father.  It
+was pleasant to be thus remembered--but how humbling to Roland's
+pride, who longed to work for all his needs!
+
+Roland really loved his warm-hearted friend, Edmund Norris, but he
+saw that he was wasting both time and money.  Night after night would
+he sit up until a late hour, indulging in card-playing and champagne.
+He was constantly resolving to change his course, but he had no power
+to put his resolutions into practice.  The term was rapidly passing
+away, the time for examination drawing nigh, and Roland feared that
+his friend would utterly fail.
+
+Edmund was often late at chapel and recitation, and yawning and
+listless all day.
+
+Roland's mind was soon resolved as to duty.
+
+"Shall I see you this evening, Edmund, after supper, on the lawn?"
+said the faithful friend.
+
+"I will be there," was the reply.
+
+True to his promise, Roland awaited his coming.
+
+"I am aware what you have to say, Roland," said the young man; "you
+want to read me a lecture upon my evil ways; is it not so?"
+
+"I have no right to lecture you, Edmund; but I cannot see you ruining
+all your prospects, and throwing away every advantage, without
+remonstrance."
+
+"I know it is all true, Roland; but what is a fellow to do?  Just as
+soon as I go to my room for study, three or four of my chums follow
+me, and there is no rest until I open my door, and then come the
+champagne and the cards, and night after night is spent in this way.
+I am always resolving, but can bring nothing good to pass."
+
+"Are you happy, Edmund?  Does conscience acquit you?  What would your
+father say!  Can you bear to be disgraced at the close of the term?"
+
+Edmund bowed his head, and replied, "I am a miserable fellow!  None
+of these things really satisfy me; but what can I do?  I have too
+much money, Roland; I want to turn over a new leaf.  I have a
+thought," and, taking his pocket-book out of his pocket, he
+continued, "take it, Roland; keep it for me; when I really need
+money, I will ask for it, and give a strict account."
+
+"Really, Edmund! that seems very much like a child."
+
+"Well, Roland, that is just what I am; a weak, spoiled child, and I
+must be treated as one; if I am to study, I must put it out of my
+power to waste my time."
+
+Roland took the trust smiling, and said, "You will not complain,
+Edmund, if I sometimes refuse your demands."
+
+"That is the bargain, Roland; I think that I can keep my promise."
+
+The young man really did close his doors upon all his idle friends,
+and commenced a new course.
+
+"Shall I come to your little attic, Roland, to study?  No one will
+follow me there."
+
+"Certainly, my friend;" and Edmund found the quiet of the distant
+room, and the presence of his studious friend, a great help to his
+new resolutions.
+
+"Boots" was making rapid progress in his studies.  Many were jealous
+of his talents, and feared him as a rival; but with the one great end
+in view, he was turned aside by nothing.
+
+Roland's manly Christianity was overcoming all enmity excepting with
+mean grovelling spirits.  Stanley still delighted to make thrusts at
+him, for he could not but acknowledge his superiority.
+
+One morning, he stopped at Stanley's door for his boots; they were
+not outside; he knocked--a faint voice answered, "Come in."
+
+Roland entered, and poor Stanley lay on the bed, burning with fever,
+and tossing from side to side in agony.
+
+"What is the matter, Stanley?" asked Roland.
+
+"I have suffered agony all night; my head aches and burns, and my
+whole frame is shaking with chills."
+
+"I am sorry for you, Stanley; it is bad to be sick without a woman's
+care and kindness; shall I bathe your head?"
+
+Roland brought a basin of cool water, washed the poor fellow's face,
+combed his hair, and laid cloths wet with cool water on his burning
+head.
+
+"I will send the doctor, Stanley; you need advice."
+
+Going immediately to the matron, he informed her of the case, sent
+for the physician, and returned to Stanley's room, where he stayed
+cooling his head until the doctor arrived.  It was a serious case,
+and needed great care, the physician said.
+
+All others avoided the sick room for fear of a contagious disease,
+and poor Stanley would have suffered greatly, perhaps have lost his
+life, had it not been for Roland's care.
+
+He received the doctor's orders, saw that his medicines were given at
+the proper time, and spent as much of his time as possible by
+Stanley's bed-side; that, however, could not be long with all his
+other duties; but Stanley was never left alone, for the Janitor's boy
+stayed with him; and by Roland's minute directions, he was properly
+attended to.
+
+Stanley was very ill for three weeks; when convalescent, he called
+Roland to his bed-side, and said,
+
+"How could you do so much for me?  I have never said a kind word to
+you since you came here."
+
+"'When thine enemy hunger, feed him; when he thirsts, give him drink;
+for in so doing, thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head.'"
+
+"Whose words are these, Roland?"
+
+"The words of Jesus, Stanley."
+
+"Are you one of his disciples?  I thought you were too manly for
+that, Roland.  I have always thought that that will do for old women
+and children; not for men."
+
+"You are mistaken, Stanley; a Christian is the highest order of a
+man."
+
+"Will you forgive me, Roland?  I have been a mean puppy to you."
+
+"Forgive, Stanley!  Certainly.  You have been thoughtless, but I hope
+not unfeeling."
+
+"You have conquered George Stanley, Roland, and woe to the fellow
+that dares speak against you."
+
+"I am so happy, Stanley, to see you getting better; but do not thank
+me; thank your Father in Heaven; he is the giver of life and health."
+
+"Another star in the night season," thought Roland.  "If I can only
+do some good to poor Stanley, I shall be satisfied."
+
+Edmund kept his resolution--to be sure one evening he stayed rather
+longer than usual in Roland's room, as though having something to say.
+
+"Roland, I want some money," said the youth.
+
+Roland smiled.  "For what, may I ask?"
+
+"Oh, never mind this time, Roland; I want it; it's mine, and that is
+enough."
+
+"But where is your promise, Edmund?  You remember that you agreed to
+tell me what you meant to do with it."
+
+"There's a new arrival, Roland, an old friend of ours, and I want to
+give a treat."
+
+Roland smiled again.  "I cannot consent, Edmund; it breaks the
+contract."
+
+"Well, I've made myself a little boy, indeed; can't have my own--I
+must have five dollars."
+
+"You can't to-night, Edmund; come to me to-morrow morning, and we
+will talk about it then; it was your own proposition, and you must
+abide by it; it has been a great benefit thus far; you have not
+missed a recitation for three weeks; I am not going to see all your
+good resolutions thrown to the winds."
+
+Edmund retired not very well pleased, but could not gainsay one word
+that Roland had uttered.
+
+Next morning, he came with a bright face.
+
+"You were right, Roland, and I wrong; you know how to manage me, I
+see that."
+
+The close of the year arrived--Roland occupied the highest place in
+the college, and Edmund passed a respectable examination, thanks to
+his faithful friend.
+
+"There has been partiality shown to 'Boots,'" said Robert Thornton;
+"I don't believe that he deserves all the honors."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+DRIFT-WOOD.
+
+Farewells are spoken--trunks are strapped--Roland's carpet-bag is
+well packed, filled by good Mrs. Jennings, for she has discovered
+that he returns on foot.
+
+Sleeping in barns, occasionally at farm-houses, at last he finds
+himself in sight of Woodcliff; he passes Maple Lane school on his
+way, and remembers the bright young face that used to smile upon him
+so kindly, and the reverent folding of her little hands, as Maddy
+listened to the teaching of her young mentor, so meek under his
+reproofs, so fiery and impetuous with all others.  He wondered how it
+was now.  On, on, past the cottage home, past the cemetery, he finds
+himself at the gate of Woodcliff.
+
+Walking up the familiar avenue, old Hector bounds to meet him, for he
+was a staunch friend of Roland Bruce.  Effie hears the noise, and
+runs out to see what is the matter.
+
+A glance at the tall young man is sufficient.  It is her own dear,
+dear brother! and in another minute, Effie is pressed to the warm
+heart of her only relative.  Roland holds her off, and looks
+anxiously at his dear sister.  Is she really paler, thinner; or is it
+the mourning-dress that makes her look so pallid?
+
+"Are you well, Effie?" asks the anxious brother.
+
+"Oh, yes, Roland, and so happy; they are all so good to me here.
+Miss Matilda will not let me overwork myself, and Mr. Hamilton is so
+kind."
+
+"Do you ever hear of Madeline, Effie?"
+
+"Oh, yes, frequently; and she always asks about you, Roland; she is
+just as glad as I am when you are successful at college."
+
+"Has she been at home lately?"
+
+"She was here at vacation; but it does not take place at the same
+time with yours."
+
+"Has she grown much, Effie?"
+
+"Very much; she is growing tall, and so beautiful.  You know,
+brother, that I always thought that there was nobody so pretty as
+Madeline."
+
+"Is she like she used to be, Effie?"
+
+"Not so wild, brother; but just as sweet and affectionate.  She used
+to go every day to see the rose-bush that you planted together, and
+she was always singing the Scotch songs that you taught her.  Where
+will you stay, brother?"
+
+"At old Peter's; that will do very well for me, Effie.  Before I
+return to college, I am going to the White Mountains; I want to see
+them so much, and the journey on foot will do me good."
+
+"How about your clothes, brother?"
+
+"Oh, yes, you little rogue, you thought that I could not guess your
+secret.  Why, who else would send me the new shirts and handkerchiefs
+but Madeline?  You had no money, Effie, and she is the only one that
+cares for me."
+
+Effie smiled.  "You've guessed right, brother.  When she was at home
+she gave me the money, and I made them all.  What a happy little
+thing she was when they were done!  She skipped about, and danced
+like a merry little kitten.  'Roland shall look like a gentleman at
+college,' she said; 'and I know there's not one ahead of him there.'"
+
+"Effie, do you remember our dear mother's last message?  Oh, what a
+comfort it has been to me!  'Looking aloft!' whenever I have felt as
+if my heart would sink, I have remembered those sweet words, Effie,
+and they have made me so strong."
+
+"So have I, Roland.  I am often very lonely, brother, and sometimes
+very weak.  Sometimes I feel as if my life will be a short time; then
+the dear words come, 'Looking aloft!' and I think of all that they
+mean, and they make me happy."
+
+"Shall we go into the conservatory, Effie?" asked her brother.
+
+"Oh, yes; I have taken good care of her flowers, Roland; and that
+Scotch heather is always so pretty!"
+
+Effie led her brother to the old spot.  The flowers were in full
+bloom.  Roland plucked a branch from Madeline's own rose-bush, and
+another from the heather, and turned away.  Next, he entered the
+library, and on opening one of the book-cases, there lay a glove of
+his little friend; and in one of the books, a pressed branch of
+sea-weed.
+
+"I may have these, Effie?"
+
+"Oh, yes; they are of no use to Madeline."
+
+Roland laid them carefully away, and then turned to seek old Peter.
+
+"I shall see you soon again, Effie.  Good-bye, now."
+
+"Good-bye, dear brother.  I am so glad that you have come."
+
+"Is that you, my lad?" said old Peter.  "I'm right glad to see your
+young face once more."
+
+"Can you let me stay a few days with you, uncle Peter?"
+
+"Why, yes, boy; but ours is a poor place; we can't do much for you."
+
+"It will be well enough.  I shall only be here for a few days."
+
+Roland rambled around among the old familiar scenes, and towards
+evening, returned to the sea-shore.  Seating himself upon the rock
+where he had passed so many happy days, he gazed out upon the wide
+ocean.  The music of its waves was sad, depressing.  It spoke of the
+past; for the future it had no voice.  As he mused, a log of
+drift-wood floated by.  How solitary it seemed!  All alone! floating
+on the wide ocean, drifting whither the tide would wash it up at last.
+
+"Is that like me?" thought Roland.  "Am I so lonely in this wide
+world?  Am I such a creature of chance?"  No human voice was near to
+answer the question of his soul.  The night birds sang their
+melancholy song around him, and it was an hour of deep sadness.
+
+"Why should I indulge in such a train of thought?" inquired Roland of
+his heart.  "This is the language of despondency, almost of despair.
+Am I indeed nothing but driftwood?--so useless, so solitary!"
+Looking upward, the bright fair moon was sailing overhead so serene!
+so pure! so silent!  With her voiceless majesty she answered, and the
+mother's dying whispers came like sweet music to banish the language
+of despair:
+
+"'Looking aloft, Roland!' 'Looking aloft!' I will not be the
+drift-wood of human life.  I will seek to fit myself for my place on
+this great globe, and, obedient to my Maker's laws as is that placid
+moon, I shall with his blessing move on as surely to my destiny;
+happy to serve my God here, and enjoy the fulness of His presence
+hereafter.  Float on, thou worthless log! thou shalt not symbolize my
+fate!  Sail on, thou placid moon!  Let my course in life be steady,
+calm, obedient, as thine."
+
+The voice within quickened his pace as he walked up and down the
+beach, repeating the Psalm of Life:
+
+  "Tell me not in mournful numbers,
+    Life is but an empty dream!
+  For the soul is dead that slumbers,
+    And things are not what they seem.
+  Life is real!  Life is earnest!
+    And the grave is not its goal;
+  'Dust thou art, to dust returnest,'
+    Was not spoken of the soul," &c. &c.
+
+
+Turning his steps towards Uncle Peter's cabin, he slept the quiet
+sleep of recovered trust and confidence in God.
+
+Next evening he sought his mother's grave.  How soothing were the
+words upon that marble head-stone!  "She sleeps in Jesus."  And how
+sweetly did they speak of the dear little friend that placed them
+there!  He had not been seated long before Elsie Gibson made her
+appearance.  She seemed delighted to meet Roland again.
+
+"Weel, Roland, the days o' youth are passing away, a'maist a mon.
+Ye're the vera image o' ane I luve weel; may ye be a happier mon than
+he."
+
+"Whom do you mean, Elsie?"
+
+"It matters na, my bairn; I'm glad to hear sic a good account o' ye,
+Roland, at the college; there's a great wark before ye, my son, may
+ye live to do it weel."
+
+"Elsie," said Roland, "do you know anything about my father?"
+
+"I used to ken a' aboot him, Roland, in days lang syne, when we were
+baith young."
+
+"Do you know where he is now, Elsie?"
+
+"Why should ye ask sic a question, Roland? do ye na ken that the
+vessel in which he sailed was lost?"
+
+"I have heard so, Elsie; but strange thoughts have crossed my mind
+lately."
+
+"They are silly thoughts, Roland; ye maun think o' yer father as
+dead.  Good-bye, Roland, I maun be awa'."
+
+Roland turned his steps again towards Woodcliff.  This time he asked
+Effie to let him sit alone in the library for a few minutes.  He
+turned over many volumes, which he knew Madeline was in the habit of
+reading, and in many a page he found her mark.  Taking up a small
+portfolio which contained many scraps of paper, listlessly he
+sketched the sweet face as he first saw Madeline on the sea-shore
+with Harry, Charles, and the other children.  Roland had cultivated
+his taste for drawing, and had made a striking pencil-sketch of the
+scene.  Placing it almost unconsciously back in the portfolio, he
+left the room, and, crossing the hall, met Mr. Hamilton.
+
+"Why, Roland, I am rejoiced to see you.  How greatly you have
+grown,--almost a man!"
+
+"Yes, sir; time makes changes."
+
+"How are you progressing at college, Roland?"
+
+"Very well, sir; there is one of our catalogues," handing one to Mr.
+Hamilton.
+
+"This is good news, Roland.  I hope, my boy, that you will continue
+to reap such high honors.  Stay, and dine with us, Roland."
+
+It was the first time that he had ever been invited to Woodcliff as a
+table-guest, and with a modest blush, he accepted the courtesy.  It
+pleased him to find that Effie's place was also at the family table,
+and with the well-bred ease of a native gentleman, he took Mr.
+Hamilton quite by surprise.
+
+"Madeline would like to see you, Roland; she was at home last
+vacation, and has greatly improved; you would scarcely recognize
+little Mad-cap; she is so much more sober."
+
+"Does she sing as much as ever?" asked Roland.
+
+"Yes, her voice is splendid; she shall have the best masters that I
+can find, Roland.  But do you know, boy, that I like the old ballads
+she used to sing, more than the opera-style, which is now so
+fashionable?"
+
+Before Roland took his leave, Mr. Hamilton sought a private
+opportunity to speak to him.
+
+"Is there anything that I can do for you, Roland?"
+
+He grasped Mr. Hamilton's hand warmly, as he answered, "I am already
+your debtor, sir; and found your gift of inestimable value."
+
+"You were kind to my little daughter, Roland; and I am always at your
+service."
+
+Roland bowed, and took his departure.
+
+"That is a remarkable youth, Matilda," said Mr. Hamilton, as he
+closed the door.  "I don't know what to make of him; brought up
+wholly in a cottage, without the advantages of refined society, he
+has more of the manners of a gentleman than either Harry Castleton or
+Charles Davenport.  He must have had a remarkable mother, and the
+soul within must be of the noblest mould."
+
+"But really, brother, I don't think it well to encourage the intimacy
+between this youth and our Madeline.  He is growing to be a man, and
+an attractive one to such a romantic child as yours.  You really
+talked of her to-day to Roland as if he were her equal."
+
+"Really, Matilda, you are simply ridiculous; he is actually a
+plebeian, and Madeline patronizes him; it has rather amused me to see
+her independence."
+
+"I don't approve of the levelling system, Lewis Hamilton.  Let each
+one keep his place in society; no good comes of these intimacies."
+
+"I am not afraid, Matilda.  I think our Maddy has a good share of
+pride--enough to keep her from low associates."
+
+"I tell you, Lewis, that Roland Bruce has more influence over that
+proud and wayward child than any other living person,--a word from
+him, a look of reproof, I am told, had more power to check her
+impetuous nature, than all the teachers of Maple Lane school."
+
+"Well, Matilda, he has never taught her anything wrong; she is
+greatly improved since she knew the Bruce family."
+
+"You are certainly possessed, brother, with a spirit of
+contradiction; but I have borne my testimony,--you must have your own
+way.  I have said all that I mean to."
+
+Roland's was rather a sad walk back to old Peter's cabin.  He felt
+that he was rapidly approaching the years of manhood, and that
+Madeline would soon step over the sweet days of childhood, and enter
+the enchanted ground of young maidenhood.  Then, the difference in
+their social position would raise the barrier over which he dare not
+step; and Madeline Hamilton and Roland Bruce would henceforth belong
+to different worlds.
+
+It was a hard thought; but Roland had seen enough, and known enough
+of worldly pride, to feel that this was so.  Not with Madeline
+herself, for she was too much a child of nature for that; but he must
+not allow her to incur the displeasure of her father, but especially
+her aunt, by forgetting the broad gulf between them.
+
+On his next visit to Woodcliff, he was struck with something peculiar
+in the look of Effie's eyes.
+
+"Your eyes look weak, Effie.  I fear that you sew too closely; is it
+not so?"
+
+"They do annoy me sometimes, Roland; they get so dim that I can
+hardly use them."
+
+"Do take care of them, sister; any disease of the eye is such a great
+calamity."
+
+"It would be a sore affliction to lose my sight, Roland; then indeed
+I should find it difficult to look upward."
+
+"Don't let us forget, Effie, that whatever befalls us, comes from our
+Father's hand, and must be a part of the training by which He means
+to fit us for the better world."
+
+"It is a comfort, dear Roland, to feel that God cannot do wrong--if
+we could only trust him always."
+
+At that moment, Nanny called Effie.
+
+"Here is a letter from Miss Madeline."
+
+"I am so glad that it came while you were with us, Roland," said
+Effie, as she broke the seal.
+
+She read it hurriedly, and said--
+
+"Here is something about you, Roland;" and she read the quotation.
+
+"I suppose that you hear often from Roland; I should like to know
+what he is doing--tell him that little Maddy is growing to be quite a
+studious, serious girl.  My chief companion here is Lucy Edmonds; she
+is a dear, sweet friend; I wish that I were like her.  I am learning
+a great deal of new music, but I have not forgotten any of my old
+Scotch songs.  Take care of my rose-bush, Effie: I mean the one that
+Roland planted; I hope that it will not die.  Be kind to old Hector
+for my sake, dear old fellow!  Now that I am away, I think more of
+Roland's good lessons than I did when at home; I am sure that I shall
+never forget them."
+
+Effie handed the letter to Roland, which he read quite through.
+
+"She will be surrounded by snares, Effie, when her education is
+finished; with all her wealth and beauty, I tremble for Madeline; but
+still I do not believe that the world will wholly spoil our little
+friend."
+
+"When will you leave us, Roland?" asked his sister.
+
+"In two days, I think; I have brought up my clothes for you to look
+over, Effie; so soon as that is done, I shall take up my line of
+march."
+
+"Will you walk all the way, Roland? it is so far."
+
+"I am used to that, Effie; indeed I prefer it; for I can stop where I
+please, enjoy all that is beautiful, and rest when I am tired.  Don't
+be afraid of me, little sister; I am very brave and strong."
+
+His preparations were soon made.
+
+"Effie, you don't know what a comfort you are to me--while I have
+you, I cannot feel alone.  Some of these days we shall have a dear
+little home, where you shall be the household fairy, and your brother
+the guide and strong arm of his precious sister."
+
+"Take care of yourself, dear Roland; don't be so daring; I don't
+believe that you ever think of danger."
+
+"I shall climb the highest mountain, Effie, it is such a pleasure to
+conquer difficulties; and I will bring back to you the beautiful
+ferns and mosses of the mountains--then you can make one of your
+pretty baskets for Madeline."
+
+Folding her once more to his heart, Roland took his final leave.
+
+"I shall be back in a few weeks, Effie; good-bye for a little while;"
+and looking back, he kissed his hand, and smiled upon his dear sister.
+
+Effie looked after her brother with an admiring gaze, and thought
+"How handsome he is!  What a noble walk!  God bless my dear, dear
+brother."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+"EXCELSIOR."
+
+Happy season of bright joyous youth!  It nerved Roland's springing
+step, flushed the glowing cheek, brightened the dark eye, and gushed
+forth in cheering song upon the early morning air.
+
+The past for awhile faded, the future was left in the hands of the
+kind Father, and the youth revelled in the freedom of the present
+moment.
+
+On through the charming scenes which led him to the place of his
+destination; sometimes, by the roadside where bloomed the neat little
+homes of New England, all with their pretty porches entwined with
+flowers of every hue; then, through the thick woods where happy birds
+carolled around his path; again by the river's brink, with the bright
+sky overhead, and in the sweet consciousness of an interest in all
+these beauties of creation, Roland could look up and say, "My Father
+made them all."
+
+At length he stopped at the foot of the mountain which it was his
+ambition to reach.
+
+Large numbers like himself were preparing for the ascent, but none on
+foot, save our young aspirant.
+
+On through thick green foliage, and over rocky paths, he pressed his
+way, occasionally stopping to rest under some shady canopy.
+
+Frequently in company with youthful parties, whose merry chatter
+disturbed the thoughts which began to crowd upon Roland, as the
+ascent brought frequently to view some new scene of beauty and
+grandeur.
+
+As he pressed on, the journey became still more toilsome and
+difficult, the road stony and rough; and Longfellow's Excelsior came
+fresh upon his memory.  Seating himself for awhile, he repeated
+audibly the beautiful lines.
+
+The fresh mountain air inspired him with renewed courage and
+determination, and, starting once more, he strained every nerve in
+his efforts to scale these steep mountain heights.
+
+The voices of the travellers on horseback became fainter every
+moment, until at length he was left in perfect solitude upon these
+dizzy heights.  After many struggles over rocks, and by the brinks of
+deep ravines, Roland found himself upon the top of Mount Washington.
+The wind was blowing fiercely; he could scarcely keep his feet; the
+howling of its blasts through the deep solitudes, and wild whistling
+music among the tall green pines, together with the cold air, which
+almost cut his cheeks, and made him draw his coat more closely around
+him, almost banished the thought that at the foot of the mountain
+glowed the heat of summer.
+
+He was highly favored, for it was a bright sunny day, and the
+atmosphere perfectly transparent.  With cheeks tingling from
+excitement, and blood stirring in every vein, he stood entranced amid
+the glorious scenery.  He felt that he had conquered, and the
+consciousness nerved the young soul for further efforts.  This suited
+the tone of his character, and prefigured the temper with which he
+would in future fight the battle of life.
+
+He looked around--grandeur marked every feature.  Beneath him lay the
+great world, the theatre of future conflicts.  The busy cities, the
+rivalries, the sins of men, the trials of the way, the din of battle,
+the "Slough of Despond," the "Giant Despair,"--but here certainly was
+also a glimpse of the "Land of Beulah."
+
+Above, the glorious sky, so vast, so magnificent! around him, the
+scenery which no pencil could ever fully paint.  Deep ravines,
+towering peaks of glory, falls of water dashing down the dizzy
+heights, and beyond! peak piled on peak, stretching as far as eye
+could reach, a whole amphitheatre of glorious mountains.
+
+A voice within answered to the voice around; it was the same which
+had spoken to him in the days of childhood, when standing in one of
+his native glens, among the rude mountains of Scotland, he had
+listened to the story of his martyred ancestors.
+
+His soul swelled then, child that he was, with lofty emotions.  It
+swelled now with fuller, deeper majesty, as he listened to the voice
+of God among these mountains; and on through life, that voice will
+follow Roland.  He took out his little Testament and read, "I will
+lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help."  And
+again,
+
+"As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round
+about his people."
+
+"Need I look farther?" asked Roland of his soul.  "God is here!  _My_
+God!  _My_ Father!"--and, bowing his head, he lifted up the voice of
+prayer, and here amid these mountain solitudes, made a fresh covenant
+with the God of his martyred fathers.  In this hour of rapt
+communion, he remembered Effie, his orphan sister, and Madeline, the
+dear little friend of his early youth.
+
+Here, surrounded by these glorious mountains, in this vast solitude,
+it was easy to imagine the glories of that mountain of the Lord, when
+his people gathered home once more, should rest in peace; and when in
+the glories of the latter days, wars and tumults, strife and discord,
+sin and misery, should forever cease.
+
+  "Upon the frontier of this shadowy land,
+  We, pilgrims of eternal sorrow, stand.
+  What realm lies forward with its happier store
+        Of forests green and deep,
+        Of valleys hushed in sleep,
+  And lakes most peaceful?  'Tis the
+        Land of Evermore.
+
+  "Very far off its marble cities seem--
+  Very far off--beyond our sensual dream--
+  Its woods, unruffled by the wild winds roar:
+        Yet does the turbulent surge
+        Howl on its very verge
+  One moment--and we breathe within the
+        Evermore.
+
+  "They whom we loved and lost so long ago,
+  Dwell in those cities, far from mortal woe,
+  Hunt those fresh woodlands, where sweet carollings soar.
+        Eternal peace have they:
+        God wipes their tears away:
+  They drink that river of life which flows for
+        Evermore.
+
+  "Thither we hasten through these regions dim;
+  But lo, the wide wings of the seraphim
+  Shine in the sunset!  On that joyous shore
+        Our lighted hearts shall know
+        The life of long ago:
+  The sorrow burdened past shall fade for
+        Evermore."
+
+
+There was nothing but the shelter of a rude shed, but so enraptured
+was our young traveller that he resolved to stay.
+
+In the evening, the screams of the wild mountain birds added to the
+grandeur of the scene; and often could be seen in the air, sailing
+along in graceful swoops, the American eagle, proud emblem of our
+country's glory.  In the deep night season, the growling of wild
+animals, the howling of the winds, whose deep sighs through the
+ravines, filled the whole air with music--not sweet and silvery, but
+grand, majestic, overpowering; for nature has her deep bass as well
+as her rich tenor, and her sweet warbling treble.  Here was the
+effect of the deep bass of harmonious instruments; and to crown all,
+distant thunder rolled from cliff to cliff, echoing until lost in the
+distance, and Roland looked on, and listened in eloquent silence.
+His visit was drawing to a close--how could he descend from such
+heights of grandeur, to the busy, bustling world again?
+
+But duty called; packing up his little all, and gathering the ferns
+and mosses in a box which he had brought for the purpose, he
+commenced his descent.  Not soon should he forget the inspiration of
+these vast solitudes, away from man, alone with God.  He buckled on
+his armor, and with a brave spirit sped to the foot of the mountain.
+
+Roland had heard much of the beauty of the charming lake
+Winnipiseogee, which lay on the route to the mountains, and thither
+he resolved to tarry for awhile.
+
+Arriving in the evening, he rambled along its beautiful margin, the
+glorious mountains spanning the horizon, here adding features of
+beauty, there of grandeur.
+
+It was a great transition from such wild magnificence, to this placid
+beauty; the calm lake, the pretty little hotel, the boating parties
+on the clear water, the refined society, the grassy banks with the
+fine old trees that formed so many bowers of shade, for here it was
+really summer; all this was soothing, not stirring as the mountain
+tops.
+
+Day by day, musing, sketching, rambling, or rowing about in the
+little boat, owned by the family, he enjoyed nis summer recreation.
+
+One evening, returning from one of these excursions on the lake,
+stepping on shore, whom should he encounter but Edmund Norris.
+
+Seizing Roland's hand, he exclaimed, "Why, my good fellow! how came
+you here?"
+
+"On foot, Edmund!" said Roland, smiling.
+
+"But where are you staying?"
+
+"At that little cottage, Edmund."
+
+"Go, pack up your duds, Roland, and come with me, I can't do without
+you."
+
+"Who is in your party, Edmund?"
+
+"Only my mother and sister."
+
+"They would consider me an intruder, Edmund; besides, it is
+impossible, I can't stay at a hotel."
+
+"And why not, sir?  I think I know, Roland; I will not take any
+denial--you have done me infinite service, and I can never repay you.
+I must introduce you to my mother, Roland; she is anxious to know
+you," and placing his friend's arm within his own, he hurried him off
+to the hotel.
+
+"My friend, Roland Bruce, mother, my sister, Miss Norris," and Roland
+bowed to a very pleasant looking middle aged lady, and an interesting
+young girl, in the person of Jessie Norris.
+
+"We are glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Bruce," replied the
+mother, at the same time extending her hand; "this is a meeting that
+I have long desired."
+
+The summer passed rapidly, and the party separated for their
+respective destinations.
+
+Edmund would not hear of Roland's return on foot, consequently they
+travelled together to the point nearest Woodcliff, and there they
+parted, mutually pleased; Edmund to his home, and Roland back to
+Woodcliff, to pay a short parting visit to Effie.
+
+"We shall meet at college, Roland," said Edmund.
+
+"Yes, and it must be a hard working year; I can only go two terms
+after this."
+
+Another week near Woodcliff, and Roland prepared for toil again.
+
+"I have come, dear Effie, to say farewell for awhile," aid Roland.
+"I have brought you some beautiful ferns and mosses, and when I come
+again, I will expect to see the basket."
+
+"I can make two, Roland, one for each window in the drawing room;
+Madeline will be so pleased,--they are both for her."
+
+"Come, Effie, let us sing our mother's favorite hymn," and the
+orphans sang with sweet voices, and full hearts,
+
+  "God of our fathers, by whose care,
+    Thy people still are blest;
+  Be with us through our pilgrimage,
+    Conduct us to our rest."
+
+
+"Now, sister, let me go for one minute up the staircase; don't come
+with me, I want to be alone."
+
+Roland stood upon the landing, and listened to the sweet murmurs of
+the Eolian harp.  The summer wind swept lightly over the strings, and
+seemed to sigh, "farewell, farewell;" but for a moment, a stronger
+breeze swept over them, and higher, fuller arose the aerial music,
+and "aloft, aloft" they whispered.
+
+He descended with a smile, and said,
+
+"Now, dear Effie, I am ready; God forever bless my darling sister;
+don't forget 'Looking aloft!  Looking aloft.'"
+
+She smiled through her tears, and said,
+
+"I'll try, dear Roland, but I am not so strong as you."
+
+Back again on the first day of the term, Roland was warmly welcomed
+by the faculty.
+
+He returned bravely, cheerfully, to his self-imposed service of
+drudgery; but the presence of many new members subjected him again to
+the same ordeal through which he had passed the first half of the
+former year.
+
+The same diligence and fidelity, the same faithful friendship for
+Edmund, the same honors at the close, marked the second year; and at
+the period of vacation, another visit to dear Effie, to the familiar
+spots around Woodcliff, and he was anticipating a return for the last
+year to finish his college course.
+
+"You cannot imagine, dear brother, how delighted Madeline was with
+the baskets--'did he gather them with his own hands, Effie?' she used
+to ask me day after day, and I saw her place a few of the ferns which
+I had saved, away in one of her school books.  'Thank Roland for me,'
+was her last message; 'tell him I expect to see him a great man,
+delivering orations, or public speeches, at any rate, at Maple Lane,
+yet.'"
+
+Roland smiled, as he said, "The same little enthusiast yet."
+
+"Little! brother! why, you forget, you have not seen Madeline for two
+years; she is no longer a little girl; she is fifteen now, and
+unusually tall for that age.  I don't believe that you would call her
+Maddy now."
+
+Roland's countenance fell; for this innocent hint had brought again
+most forcibly the conviction that the approach of womanhood was
+building a gulf which could not be passed, and the sweet intimacy of
+playful childhood could be no more renewed.
+
+His third year at college was a season of rapid progress.  On his
+return, Dr. Kingsley sent for Roland to his private room.
+
+"You have been well tried, my son," said the good man.  "I have
+looked upon your course, Roland, with pride; shall I say it to a boy?
+with reverence.  Not one of fifty would have borne the indignities of
+your position, and risen above them all, as you have; you shall be
+rewarded.  The offices which you have performed so nobly will be
+given to another, little Jack, the Janitor's nephew, and another boy
+hired for the purpose; you, Roland, shall have all your time for
+study."
+
+Roland was a manly boy, but with a warm, tender heart.  His eyes
+filled with tears of gratitude.
+
+Seizing Dr. Kingsley's hand, he pressed a warm kiss upon its wrinkled
+surface, and said,
+
+"Words cannot thank you, Dr. Kingsley, for all your goodness; the
+training of this college is more than a fortune to me."
+
+"You must not lavish all your thanks upon me, Roland.  Edmund Norris
+has told me all your trials, all the insults which you formerly
+received; he has told me of all your patient endurance, and noble
+return of good for evil.  Mrs. Norris is wealthy, she has offered to
+place you exactly by the side of her son, bearing all your expenses,
+and occupying the same room.  I judged you by myself, and thought
+that you would rather be indebted to the college.  You will occupy
+the room with Edmund; but we must have the honor of educating Roland
+Bruce."
+
+"You will be repaid, my dear sir, for all your kindness and delicacy.
+Oh! how faithful are the promises of God: 'Looking aloft' was the
+motto which my dear mother left me on her death-bed; I have tried to
+act upon it; and endeavoring to do my duty, have looked upward for
+God's blessing, and have never been disappointed."
+
+Dr. Kingsley straitened himself up, put on a sterner look, took off
+his spectacles, that seemed suddenly to become moistened, and jerking
+his handkerchief out of his pocket, blew his nose violently, saying,
+
+"I have a bad cold, Roland; I don't know how it came, but I did not
+feel it until you came into the room."
+
+Roland smiled, for Dr. Kingsley did not like it to be known what a
+warm sympathetic heart beat under that cold, and somewhat stern
+exterior.
+
+Roland's position, this year, was a happy one; and Edmund was about
+as much the gainer as he.
+
+Rooming together, Roland's powerful example was a strong incentive to
+the young man; and though often tempted to relax, what at first was a
+severe task, became first a habit, then a pleasure.
+
+A secret plot for some forbidden pleasure was again agitating among
+the wild ones.
+
+"You need not ask Ned Norris to join us," said one of his former
+companions, "he's among the saints now; he dare not say that his life
+is his own when Roland Bruce is about.  I don't care much about his
+company, but it is deucedly inconvenient to miss his purse, it was
+always open in former days--but old 'Boots' has the charge of him
+now, and there is no use of asking him to join this spree."
+
+"Do you dare call him 'Boots' again?" said Stanley, doubling his
+fist, "I told you all that I'd knock the first fellow down that
+insults Roland Bruce; there is not one here fit to wipe his shoes."
+
+"How came you to turn round so soon, Stanley? you were among the most
+bitter of his enemies," said Thornton.
+
+"When you all stood off from me as if I were a leper, Roland Bruce
+quietly, nobly took care of me; he watched me on my sick bed, as if I
+had been his friend, instead of his enemy; and do you think that I'll
+ever hear you speak against such a fellow as that?"
+
+The chief offender slunk away, evidently frightened.
+
+"You never told me so, Stanley; it must have been before I came."
+
+"I tell you now, Brown, Roland shall be treated as a gentleman, so
+long as I am in this college; so clear out, or I may knock you down."
+
+Brown crawled away, and Roland was everywhere in the ascendant.
+
+Many envied him his quiet superiority; but all respected the studious
+youth that was carrying off so many of the honors.
+
+His path was henceforth a pleasant one, until one morning, whom
+should he see among the new students but Harry Castleton and Charles
+Davenport!
+
+Roland's appearance was that of a gentleman; for, although he had not
+the changes which some had, he always contrived to appear genteel.
+
+After breakfast, Roland advanced to the young men, and politely
+extended his hand.  Charles, with a supercilious air, turned on his
+heel, saying,
+
+"You are mistaken, sir; we do not know you."
+
+Roland had acted the part of a gentleman and a Christian, and he left
+the young men to imagine that they had humbled him.
+
+They soon observed his intimacy with Edmund Norris, whose family they
+had met elsewhere.  Determined to annoy him still farther, they
+sought the first opportunity of speaking alone.
+
+"Do you know this young Bruce?" said Harry.
+
+"Yes, sir, I have good cause to know him; he has saved me from many a
+false step and wicked companion."
+
+"Do you know his origin?" continued Harry.
+
+"I know that he is Scotch, and had a good mother."
+
+"His mother was a common huckster, and he no better than a beggar; he
+lived in my uncle's neighborhood, and I have seen him many a time
+with old patched clothes, and scarcely a shoe to his feet."
+
+"Indeed!" said Edmund.  "I know that he is very poor; he has told me
+much of his history.  You have told me now how poor he is--shall I
+tell you how noble he is in the estimation of all true hearts in this
+college?  You are at mean work, sir, but you will not harm Roland
+Bruce; he is above your mark, sir.  Good morning, Mr. Castleton."
+
+Edmund saw that the two were cultivating the intimacy of several of
+the upstart boys, sons of the merchant princes of New York, with gold
+watches, full purses, fashionable wardrobes, empty brains, and cold,
+sordid souls.
+
+Brown was one of them--a mean, cowardly fellow, who had not forgotten
+the attack of Stanley, and was glad to find allies in the two new
+students.
+
+"There comes Boots," said Brown, one evening to Harry Castleton.
+
+"Whom do you mean?" was the quick reply; and Brown pointed to Roland,
+who was walking in the lawn, arm in arm with Edmund Norris.
+
+"Why do you call him 'Boots,' Brown?"
+
+"I'll whisper the story to you--do you know that in the first two
+years that he was here, he earned his education by blacking boots,
+carrying up wood, making fires, &c., and now he has the presumption
+to hold himself up above us fellows, and the faculty really place him
+constantly before us as a pattern to follow."
+
+"That is a good joke," answered Castleton; "I'll remember that
+story--a common boot-black! 'pon my word! brought here among
+gentlemen!  Faugh!  I shall smell boots every time I pass him."
+
+The next week, a drawing was on the wall in the passage to the
+recitation room, representing a boy blacking boots, and underneath
+written "Boots" at his profession; and another picture of a boy with
+a basket of boot-blacking and brushes, receiving a diploma; under
+which was written "Boots graduates, ready to practise on gentlemen's
+feet."  Roland and Edmund saw the low proceeding--they did not notice
+it; but, on going out of the hall, Castleton and Davenport passed
+close to the young men.
+
+"Don't you smell boots, Davenport?" said Castleton.
+
+Stanley was near; he heard the insult, as also did Norris.
+
+Instantly, the two were surrounded; and Stanley, enraged, said,
+
+"I will bear it no longer; you shall not insult Roland Bruce;" and he
+gave Castleton a violent blow in the face.  Edmund, too, joined the
+fight.  Castleton and Davenport tried to defend themselves, but in
+vain; surrounded by several of the boys, they received a sound
+drubbing.
+
+Roland was distressed--he was a brave boy, and though he knew that in
+the anger of the combatants he was likely to become entangled in the
+broil, he stepped forward, and placing himself between Edmund and
+Castleton, he said,
+
+"Edmund, I beseech you, come with me; it is not worth minding--leave
+these boys to themselves; they do not harm me."
+
+"Go away, Roland; I must punish them in a way which they will never
+forget."
+
+Roland, however, persevered, and succeeded in drawing away his friend.
+
+The boys each had black eyes, swollen faces, and torn coats for their
+reward.
+
+They did not again try the same game, but their hatred of Roland was
+by no means lessened; it was rather increased.
+
+The term drew rapidly to a close--Roland was looking forward
+anxiously to his embarkation on the theatre of human life.  He knew
+that he had nothing but his education, and simple trust in God.  That
+was enough for his confidence.  He graduated with high honors.
+Edmund was to stay another year, and grieved to part with his friend.
+
+Dr. Kingsley congratulated Roland warmly--
+
+"You have done nobly, sir," said the President; "your friends may
+well be proud of you."
+
+"You forget, my dear sir, I have but two, who care particularly for
+my success, and they are both young girls; one my sister, and the
+other a little friend."
+
+The good President gave him warm parting counsels, and on shaking his
+hand for the last time, said,
+
+"Remember, you have friends at college; your Alma Mater will always
+be proud of her son."
+
+The young men were all busily occupied, and full of eager
+anticipations.  Vacation had arrived, and all had some dear home
+circle waiting for them, but Roland.  He had none; and, on the waste
+of life, sometimes he could not but feel like a waif among the
+multitude, but never long.
+
+"Looking aloft" was the general tone of his brave spirit.  With five
+dollars in his pocket-book, he prepared to leave the college; and, on
+opening it, he found ten dollars more, with the pencilled words--
+
+"You have been a faithful banker; accept this from Edmund."
+
+Taking leave of his kind friends, he turned his face towards
+Woodcliff, and Effie looked with pride upon her dear brother, as she
+read the diploma over and over again.
+
+"Would not our dear mother be happy, Roland?" said the young girl;
+"you have accomplished her desires; may all the rest be fulfilled,
+dear brother."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+STRIFE.
+
+"Where are you going, Roland?" asked Effie, with an anxious face.
+
+"I think to New York, sister."
+
+"Have you any money, Roland?"
+
+"But very little, sister, excepting in the bank of Heaven;" was the
+reply, and yet Roland smiled, it seemed so daring to set out on
+life's journey so penniless.
+
+"I have five dollars, brother, you must take it; Miss Matilda gave it
+to me for some very fine work which I have just finished for
+Madeline;" and away ran Effie to bring her pocket-book, and attempted
+to empty its contents into Roland's hand.
+
+Roland shrank from the gift.  "I have fifteen dollars, Effie, that
+must do until I reach the great city."
+
+"What do you expect to do, Roland?"
+
+"I shall see when I reach New York."
+
+"How shall I write to you?  I shall be so anxious."
+
+"I will write first, and let you know where I am."
+
+"Give me your valise, brother," and Effie placed in it some
+sandwiches, which she had prepared with her own little hands.
+
+With a hasty farewell, and a brother's warm kiss, Roland turned his
+face towards the great metropolis, brave, hopeful, trusting, still
+"Looking aloft."  Oh! what need of the talisman now!
+
+Sometimes a good-natured farmer would give him a lift on the road;
+and, at the end of one week, he found himself, weary and lonely,
+entering the great city.  One dollar was all that was left in his
+pocket-book.
+
+Rambling listlessly up Broadway, the multitude depressed him; for he
+felt himself friendless indeed, in this vast surging crowd.
+
+Passing Trinity Church, he perceived it open, for it was the time of
+the evening service.  The sound of the organ cheered his spirits,
+and, joining in the solemn service, for awhile he forgot his worldly
+cares, and worshipped the Unseen.
+
+Perceiving a gentleman mounting the steeple, Roland followed, with
+the injunction from the sexton not to stay too long, for he should
+wish to close the church.  The gentleman took a hasty glance, but
+soon descended, leaving Roland to his meditations.
+
+What a busy, bustling crowd below!  Did they, indeed, belong to the
+one great brotherhood of man?  Each one pushing his own way,
+apparently so regardless of his neighbor's motions; some to happy,
+smiling homes; some to dens of poverty and misery; many to haunts of
+sin.  And the streets so filled with carts, carriages, omnibuses, and
+cars, all threading their way so skilfully through the thronged
+thoroughfare.
+
+The solitudes of the grand mountains was to be alone with God; the
+dreariness of this human crowd was oppressive, and here, away in the
+lofty steeple, near the clouds, far above the din and press of this
+great multitude of humanity, he felt that he could breathe once more.
+
+Glancing over the vast city, the numerous steeples all around him
+reminded him that he was among Christians.  "So many Christians!"
+thought Roland, "and not one knows me; but then every Sunday, in
+these houses dedicated to God, they pray for the fatherless and the
+homeless, and I am one."
+
+So deeply was he engrossed in thought, and so soothing was the quiet
+of this retreat from the busy world, that Roland forgot how time was
+passing.  The crowd diminished, evening shadows rendered objects
+below somewhat indistinct, and the fair moon appeared to light the
+heavens.  Sailing majestically along, sometimes hidden by clouds,
+then emerging again into all her calm beauty, Roland could not but
+compare her course to the journey of God's dear children through this
+wilderness: sometimes obscured by sorrow, yet always coming forth
+again into the calm, clear sky of perfect peace.
+
+Roland remembered that he had no place where to lay his weary limbs
+that night, and he repeated some of the promises.
+
+"When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me
+up."
+
+The heavens seemed to smile upon him; he felt that he was God's own
+child, and repeated solemnly, "Our Father, who art in heaven,
+hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as
+it is in heaven, _give us this day our daily bread_," his heart was
+comforted; and he descended the dark stair-case with the same feeling
+of security as if he had pressed the hand of his Heavenly Father
+guiding him safely along.
+
+When he reached the church, he found it locked; he had stayed so
+long, the sexton had forgotten him, but he was not afraid--afraid in
+God's dear house, with the soft, sweet moon shining on him through
+the stained window-glass!  Oh! no--there was a sense of sweet
+security pervading his heart, and, laying himself down in one of the
+cushioned pews, he slept the sleep of perfect security in the Father
+above.
+
+Locked up until the time for the morning service, the sexton was both
+surprised and displeased at the sight of the tenant in rich Mr.
+Seldin's pew.  Roland apologized, but the old man was surly, and
+hurried him out of the church.
+
+He was hungry and thirsty, so the first thing that he sought was some
+food.  Furnishing himself with some crackers and cheese, and
+refreshing himself with a drink of water, he commenced his first
+day's battle with life.
+
+Up and down the long, crowded streets, in the stores, at the offices,
+along the wharves, he sought in vain for some employment.  Hundreds
+of just such applications were refused daily.  All asked the name of
+some friend, he had none to give but Dr. Kingsley.  Some smiled at
+his answers when asked what he could do.
+
+"He could keep books, copy law-papers, go errands, clean pavements,
+sweep out offices, any thing that would give him the means of an
+honest livelihood."
+
+Night came, but without a shelter.  It was late, and he was weary,
+so, turning into one of the market-houses, he had no other resource.
+
+On one of the stalls lay a poor boy, pale and emaciated.  Roland saw
+that he was sick, so placing his valise under his head, over which he
+had thrown some soft garment, he laid himself down to sleep by his
+brother's side.  "He has more need than I," thought Roland, as he
+resigned the softer pillow to the poor boy.  Presently a
+police-officer came along.
+
+"What are you about here, you young rascals?  Have you been out on a
+plundering job?"
+
+Roland raised his head and said, "I do not think, sir, that you will
+find this poor boy to be a vagrant; and, as for myself, I am poor and
+homeless, that is all."
+
+"New York is a bad place for a young chap like you to be in, without
+a home."
+
+"I know it, sir; I have walked all day, searching for work, but have
+found none; can you tell me what to do?"
+
+"I saw an advertisement for a boy in a printer's office, perhaps you
+may do; but I am afraid that you are too old."
+
+"If you will be so good as to give me the direction, I will go in the
+morning, and see what success I shall have."
+
+After eating sparingly of his little stock, Roland started to find
+the printer's office.
+
+"We do not take boys without references; you are too old for us at
+any rate," and Roland was disappointed again.  Roving about, he asked
+permission to saw wood, to clean pavements, and obtained a few such
+jobs; but his heart was sinking; the promises were fading, and, at
+the close of the third day, wearied and heart-sick, the same officer
+met Roland again in the same market-place.
+
+"What! my boy, still roving about?" said the man.
+
+"I have walked for three days, and all that I could find to do was to
+saw some wood, and to clean a few pavements.  I have but a few cents
+left, where shall I turn?"
+
+"Come home with me, I believe that you are an honest boy; you shall
+not sleep out in the street again."
+
+And Richard Green took Roland with him to his comfortable little home.
+
+"Here, wife, give this poor fellow a good supper and a comfortable
+bed, he has come to this great city without money or friends; we must
+do something for him."
+
+Martha Green was a rough woman, with a kind, womanly heart; she had a
+son, about Roland's age, away at sea, and she wiped her eyes with her
+hard, wrinkled hand, as she asked,
+
+"Have you a mother, my son?"
+
+The question opened the flood-gates penned up in the poor youth's
+heart, and, manly as he was, weakened by suffering and hunger, he
+could not restrain the tears that would burst forth, as he replied,
+
+"No, Mrs. Green, my mother is in heaven; I should be doubly grieved
+if I thought that she knew of the trials of these few hard days."
+
+The good woman busied herself about the neat kitchen, and soon
+invited Roland to a warm and comfortable meal.  A cup of warm coffee,
+some nicely cooked meat and potatoes, with home-made bread and
+butter, was a luxury which he had not seen for weeks; and when, at
+last, he lay down in the snug room on a clean bed, with everything
+around him so comfortable, language could not express the gratitude
+which filled his heart at the gracious answer to his prayer.
+
+Cheered by the sympathy of these humble friends, Roland set out again
+with renewed hope.
+
+Rambling about from street to street, his eye was at length attracted
+by a sign, which directed him to the "Noon-day Prayer Meeting."
+
+Taking his seat among the worshippers, he was pleased to see Richard
+Green, his humble friend, among the company.  He felt that God was
+there, and deeply, earnestly, did Roland pray for guidance.
+
+"I was glad to see you there, Richard," said Roland.
+
+"Why, you see, my son, I've been one of the roughs in my time; but,
+since I've been coming here, I find that there's something else to do
+in this world beside getting bread and meat.  I see a great deal in
+my line to make me hate the ways of sin, for it always brings misery;
+so I've given up all my bad ways, and, by the help of God, I'm bound
+for Canaan."
+
+They walked back again to the officer's home, and, picking up the
+paper, Roland perceived an advertisement--"Wanted, a boy to clean a
+lawyer's office, go errands, etc., with the privilege of reading law
+in the office."
+
+After dinner, he called upon Mr. Dean.  He was questioned closely as
+to his previous knowledge, his handwriting, etc.  Roland showed his
+letter from Dr. Kingsley, speaking in the highest terms of his
+character and acquirements.  Mr. Dean was a shrewd man, and soon made
+an engagement with Roland.
+
+Grateful to his dear Heavenly Father, Roland passed a happy day, and
+wrote immediately to Effie, telling her of his good fortune, and
+giving her his direction.
+
+Ere entering upon his labors, he walked down to the Battery.  All was
+so refreshing--the quiet water so peaceful, its gentle murmurs calmed
+his fevered brow, and, "Looking aloft" once more with cheerful hope,
+he mused gratefully upon the past, hopefully upon the future.
+
+"How I should like Madeline to know something of my good fortune,"
+thought he; "but would I like her to know of my poverty? my misery?
+Would I like her to know that I had to sleep out two nights in the
+market-house, and then dependent for shelter on a police officer?"
+
+Roland winced under these bitter thoughts.
+
+"The gulf is wide, indeed--when she emerges into the gay world, she
+will forget the poor boy at Woodcliff."
+
+The next morning, Roland entered upon his duties; they were
+endless--cleaning the office, making fires, running errands, copying
+law papers, early and late, left but little time for reading law;
+perhaps one hour a day was all that he could save from his unceasing
+toil.
+
+Having considerable literary taste, he wrote frequently, after
+retiring at night, articles for the daily press.
+
+They always seemed acceptable, and the Editor, who really delighted
+to encourage young genius, advertised, "If the person, writing over
+the signature of Randolph, will call at the office, he will hear
+something to his advantage."
+
+Roland called--the Editor was interested.
+
+"You must not write, my young friend, gratuitously.  I will
+compensate you for your articles; send me a weekly contribution, and
+I will remunerate you."
+
+Roland was surprised and grateful--not aware of his own merits, he
+had regarded these efforts simply as means of improvement, and had
+not dreamed of compensation.
+
+He made the agreement with the Editor, and then, being questioned as
+to his present employment, his kind friend saw that he was
+overworked, and undervalued.  In a week or two, the friendly editor
+sent for Roland again, and said,
+
+"I have spoken to a distinguished lawyer of this city, who is fond of
+bringing out young men; he is interested in your story, and if you
+will wait a few minutes, he will call here."
+
+In a short time, a gentleman, with a manly bearing, and a bright,
+quick glance, entered the office.
+
+A short conversation with Roland completed the agreement, and, as he
+was only engaged temporarily at Mr. Dean's, it was soon announced
+that he must get another in his place, for in a week more he would
+leave for a more lucrative situation.
+
+Roland soon found himself among people infinitely more refined, for
+Edgar and Helen Thornly were both attractive young persons.
+
+Edgar had just returned from college; a gay young fellow, whose chief
+occupation in life was the pursuit of pleasure; and Helen, a lovely
+young girl, not long home from boarding-school.
+
+Treated in all respects as an equal, he found the home circle at Mr.
+Thornly's peculiarly agreeable, and in return for these benefits,
+rendered at all times most faithful service to his generous employer.
+
+Roland often felt concerned for the petted son of Mr. Thornly; for
+furnished constantly with a full purse, he had ample opportunity of
+enjoying the pleasures of the gay world, and was becoming very
+rapidly one of the fast young men of New York.  It was true that he
+had a desk at his father's office, but it was seldom occupied for any
+length of time by the young man; for late hours at night made
+corresponding hours in the morning; and, in the afternoon, a drive
+with a fast horse generally closed the day.
+
+Mr. Thornly occasionally remonstrated.
+
+"Just wait a little, father; you know that I have been shut up so
+long at college, that it seems hard to go to work as soon us I come
+home.  I will be a smart lawyer yet."
+
+"Brother," said Helen, "whom do you think I met to-day in Broadway?
+my old school-friend, Madeline Hamilton; she is in New York, spending
+the Christmas vacation with Mary Trevor."
+
+"Won't you invite her here, sister?  I feel quite anxious to see your
+'queen of beauty.'"
+
+"You need not try to captivate Madeline; she is as proud as Juno, and
+so far, quite indifferent to beaux."
+
+"She'll have plenty of admirers, sis, when she bursts upon the world
+with all her wealth and beauty."
+
+Roland heard the announcement of her presence in New York with
+mingled feelings--she was a young lady now, how would she meet the
+old friend of his childish days?
+
+"Roland, are you fond of music?" asked young Thornly.
+
+"Extravagantly, but I have never heard any of the celebrated singers."
+
+"We are going to the opera to-night; will you accompany us?"
+
+Roland was a novice in the world of New York, and thinking only of
+the music, he consented, and accompanied the party.
+
+Bewildered at first with the delicious music, he scarcely thought of
+the adjuncts; but the uncovered forms, the freedom of the actresses,
+the sentiments of the opera translated into English, shocked his
+sense of delicacy; and when he looked around at the crowds of fair
+young faces, looking and listening without a blush to much that was
+enacting before them, he felt convinced that this was no place for a
+Christian youth, and resolved accordingly.
+
+Near them, was seated a party of young persons deeply interested in
+the performance.  One especially attracted him--the deep blue eyes,
+the profusion of soft brown hair, the sweet expressive mouth, were
+certainly like those of his little friend; but in the tall, graceful
+girl before him, he scarcely could believe the evidence of his
+senses, when the silvery voice revealed fully Madeline Hamilton.
+
+He had not seen her for four years, and the sparkling, bewitching
+child had merged into the lovely, blushing maiden of sixteen.
+
+During one of the recesses between the acts she arose, and stood
+facing the party near her.
+
+Roland caught her eye; she looked earnestly, then smiled, and, with a
+bow of high-bred courtesy, recognized her old friend.
+
+Roland felt that Madeline was no longer a child; he returned her bow
+with equal politeness.
+
+Next morning, at breakfast, Helen discussed with her father all her
+arrangements for an evening party the following week.
+
+Roland made one of the company, and watched anxiously for each
+arrival, expecting every minute to see the friend of his childhood.
+
+A ringing silvery laugh, as tripping feet passed up the staircase to
+deposit her wrappings, announced the presence of Madeline, the little
+Mad-cap of the sea-shore.
+
+She entered--a simple girlish dress became the young maiden; for she
+remembered that she was yet a school-girl.
+
+She bowed gracefully when introduced to the company--a bright blush
+and a smile acknowledged the acquaintance of Roland Bruce.
+
+He advanced--"How are you, Miss Madeline?  It has been a long time
+since I saw you.  When did you arrive in New York?"
+
+A casting down of the eyes, and the slightest quiver of a mischievous
+smile, crossed the bright young face.
+
+"Last week, Mr. Bruce.  I am spending my vacation with my friend,
+Miss Trevor."
+
+"When do you expect to return?"
+
+"In about ten days.  One more year will complete my school-life."
+
+"Then for the gay world, I suppose, Miss Madeline;" and Roland smiled
+somewhat sadly.
+
+"Yes, that is our intention.  We shall spend my first winter in New
+York."
+
+"You have not forgotten the lessons at Woodcliff, I trust, Miss
+Madeline?"
+
+Madeline turned her face away, and bending her eyes upon the ground,
+said,
+
+"I must speak the truth; I fear, that those lessons have lost much of
+their power."
+
+"Are you happy now as then, Miss Madeline?"
+
+"Not when I stop to think; but I have not much time for that."
+
+Listening seriously to Roland's earnest words, with eyes bent, and
+hands folded reverently as of yore, the Roland and Madeline of Maple
+Lane School stood once more revealed.
+
+"Madeline, the piano is waiting for you," said Helen; and leading her
+young friend to the instrument, she interrupted the conversation.
+
+Dashing off into one of the most beautiful of the many variations of
+fine old pieces, she ran through several brilliant compositions,
+until at the close of "Auld Lang Syne," she accompanied it with her
+charming voice, in all the melting tenderness of former days.
+
+Roland was inexpressibly touched.
+
+"She has not quite forgotten those early days," thought the youth.
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+Edgar Thornly gave his father much uneasiness, for his indolence
+increased, his nightly dissipations became more reckless--moreover,
+he seemed gloomy and abstracted.
+
+One day, a gentleman called to pay Mr. Thornly a fee of two hundred
+dollars.  He placed it in his desk, and put the key in his pocket.
+Roland and Edgar were both present.  It was the duty of the former to
+lock the office every evening; but on this occasion Edgar tarried.
+
+"Is it not time to lock the office?" said Roland.
+
+"I suppose so," was the answer; but still he lingered.
+
+At last Roland said,
+
+"I have an engagement, Edgar, and must lock up."
+
+"Can't I do it, Roland?"
+
+"No, Edgar, your father directed me to see it locked always before I
+leave."
+
+"You are mighty particular, Roland;" and, taking his hat, Edgar left
+the room.
+
+Just before Roland closed the office finally, James, the waiter,
+entered the room to replenish the fire.
+
+"Be quick, James, I have an engagement."
+
+The man soon finished his work, and left the room.  Roland locked the
+door, and took his departure, placing the key in his pocket.
+
+The next morning, Mr. Thornly wanted the money; on opening the desk,
+the lock was picked, and the money gone--who could have taken it?
+
+The waiter was called, and inquiries made of him.
+
+"The last one I saw there was Mr. Bruce," said the man; "nobody has
+been there since."
+
+Edgar testified the same.
+
+"I saw it just before I left the room," said Roland.  "I saw you put
+the money in the drawer, Mr. Thornly; I was the last person in the
+office; I locked the door and put the key in my pocket; when I looked
+for the key this morning it was gone, and when I went down to the
+office, it was already open."
+
+"I was up first this morning," said the cook; "I was in the cellar
+under the office, I heard some one moving about in stocking feet; I
+thought it was very early, but I supposed it was Mr. Bruce, and did
+not go to see who was there."
+
+Roland _could have told_ that he saw one of Edgar's embroidered
+slippers close by the office door, and that when he entered, the gas
+was left burning, and a knife, which he had often seen Edgar use,
+lying under the table.
+
+Roland felt the perplexity of his situation; he knew that suspicion
+pointed towards him, but he could not clear himself without involving
+his employer's son.
+
+Just as he felt himself so happily, so usefully employed, it was a
+hard thing to be cast again upon the world, and under such
+circumstances.
+
+The breakfast was eaten in silence; the business of the day pursued
+in the same formal manner.  Edgar avoided being alone with Roland,
+and the atmosphere of the whole house was stifling.
+
+Before closing the office, Roland begged for a few minutes
+conversation with Mr. Thornly.
+
+"I feel the terrible suspicion which rests upon me, Mr. Thornly; I
+cannot stay here, a suspected man; painful as the task is, I must go."
+
+"It is doubtless so; but, Mr. Bruce, I have placed unlimited
+confidence in you, sir; I know not what to think."
+
+"Your confidence has never been abused, sir; the day will come when
+my innocence shall be established; in the meanwhile, I can wait."
+
+"What will you do, sir, without a reference?"
+
+"I do not know; but you will not make the affair public? let me beg
+of you for many reasons not to do so."
+
+"I promise you not to do so; but do not send any one to me until the
+affair is cleared up, I cannot recommend you; it is all a mystery."
+
+"You are not going, Roland?" said Helen Thornly; "I can't bear to see
+you so insulted, so wronged."
+
+"Thank you, Miss Helen; but you must see that circumstances around me
+are very dark--I can only declare my innocence, and leave it all for
+Providence to proclaim my honor."
+
+"My father will be the loser, Roland; I have my own thoughts, and I
+will never rest until I find out the truth."
+
+"It has been a pleasant home, Miss Helen, but I must leave it; my
+dear mother left me a precious motto on her
+ death-bed, 'Looking aloft.'  It has comforted me in many
+a weary hour; it is my refuge now."
+
+"Packing up his clothes immediately, he took a respectful leave of
+all, thanking Mr. Thornly for all his kindness.
+
+"It will be right some day, Mr. Thornly; I can trust and wait," were
+Roland's last words.
+
+Out again upon the cold world, Roland deposited his clothes with his
+friend Richard Green, and, weary and sad, walked down to the Battery.
+
+He had not paced the bank long, when Madeline, in company with
+several gay young friends, passed by; her careless, joyous laugh
+jarred upon his lacerated feelings, and her ceremonious salutation
+completed the depression of that weary day.
+
+Could she have known the sorrow of that noble heart, would she have
+passed so coldly?
+
+No--although the poison of a letter received that day, from Lavinia
+Raymond, rankled in her proud young heart.
+
+Roland paced the bank until midnight--midnight around, and midnight
+within the tried young spirit; for faith could not grasp the promises
+at once, in that hour of anguish.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+RUGGED HILLS FOR WEARY FEET.
+
+Homeless once more, Roland sought an humble refuge, in the house of
+his friend, the good police officer.  Aware of the difficulties which
+would beset his path, he shrank from encounters with the rough world;
+for what could one expect who had left an office like Mr. Thornly's
+suddenly, and could bring no reference?
+
+He made the effort day after day, and although there was so much in
+his whole bearing that was prepossessing, none were willing to run
+the risk.  Never had his prospects appeared so discouraging, and
+never had he greater need of all the support of the sweet talismanic
+words which had guided and strengthened him so long.
+
+Devoting more time to his pen, his contributions to the press were
+more frequent, and this resource was just now invaluable, as it
+really did provide his daily food.
+
+In these days of darkness, Roland never passed the poor news boys, or
+any who earned a precarious living in the streets, without feelings
+of warmer, deeper interest.  Sometimes he would stop to look at some
+little, tired wanderer, ragged, pale, friendless, sleeping perhaps in
+a packing-box, in the market stalls, or wherever he could find
+shelter from the weather, and he would often ask himself,
+
+"Can I do nothing for these poor, homeless children?"
+
+He weighed the matter seriously, and turned attention to the subject,
+in the articles which he contributed to the daily press.
+
+Writing from a full heart, that had passed through these sorrows
+himself, his words were eloquent; and on making an appeal to any who
+would be willing to aid in procuring home and shelter for these poor
+outcasts, to meet him at his humble lodgings, he waited anxiously for
+some response.
+
+A week passed.  At length a thoughtful-looking man, with very plain
+garb, sought him at the place appointed.
+
+"I have been interested in your articles, young man; I came to ask
+what would you propose?"
+
+"I scarcely know, sir; but the misery and exposure of this class
+haunt me daily, nightly.  I have been told that there are three
+thousand.  In a great city like this, there should be a home for
+such."
+
+"Are you aware that much money would be needed to provide one?"
+
+"I know that, sir; but if it is the Lord's directing, He will provide
+the money, if we will only use the means."
+
+"Have you time at your disposal?"
+
+"I have a great deal just now, and will do any thing that you
+propose."
+
+"First, tell me your name."
+
+"It is Roland Bruce; I can show you a letter from the President of
+the college where I graduated."  And trusting the plain, honest,
+benevolent face, he told his story to the good man, not even
+reserving the trial at Mr. Thornly's.
+
+Mark Grafton was a keen physiognomist, and an eccentric man; he
+smiled when he read the letter, for he had fully made up his mind
+before to trust the open countenance, and fine clear eye of Roland
+Bruce.
+
+"What I propose is this: I will give you a list of names of
+influential men, who I know will give their aid in a cause like this;
+you will call on them in my name, and report progress to me every
+evening."
+
+Roland was delighted; here was an opportunity to occupy his time with
+useful employment, to benefit a class for whom his heart had often
+bled.
+
+He commenced his work with a sanguine, hopeful heart.  "Looking
+aloft," for God's especial blessing, he set out with a bright,
+animated countenance, and a brisk, elastic step.
+
+Praying daily for guidance, and leaving the cause of his acquittal in
+the hands of the just and wise, and gracious Disposer of human
+events, he was willing to leave the time in God's own hands; the
+event he knew was sure.
+
+He was generally successful--many contributed largely of their means,
+for he found that the name of Mark Grafton was everywhere a
+sufficient recommendation.  A few presented a cold shoulder, but he
+had every reason to be grateful, when at the end of a week, he
+numbered on his list some two hundred subscribers.  Mr. Grafton was
+more than gratified, he was sanguine as to the result.  As soon as
+five hundred subscribers were obtained, they would commence
+operations.
+
+A house was rented, provided with plain comforts which to houseless
+wanderers would appear like luxuries; a matron placed at the head,
+and then came the work of gathering the outcasts.
+
+An advertisement was placed in the daily papers, and several placards
+on the corners of the streets.
+
+"If boys who clean crossings, or sell matches and newspapers, will
+meet this evening at No. 42 M---- street, they will find something to
+their advantage."
+
+Mr. Grafton and Roland waited anxiously--about half a dozen came;
+accustomed so long to a roving life of freedom, many thought that the
+advertisement pointed to something which might restrain their
+liberty, and therefore looked suspiciously at the notice.
+
+Mr. Grafton explained his plans to the boys.  Each one connected with
+the home, must contribute one dollar per week of his earnings, which
+would be put by in a fund for his own especial benefit, when he
+should reach mature years.  So vicious themselves, they were slow to
+believe in the truth or honesty of their fellows, and not one at
+first could be found to agree to the plan proposed.
+
+"I give you a week to think about it, boys--you can stay here all the
+time, and weigh the difference between a comfortable home, where you
+will be provided with good reading, careful instruction, pleasant
+recreations, and the power of laying by some of your money; compare
+this with a roving life among vicious boys, who often rob you, and
+who are leading you away farther and farther from ways of peace and
+respectability, until at last, you may end your days in a prison, and
+spend eternity with the lost and degraded; if you cannot come into
+all our arrangements at the close of this week, you must depart, and
+we offer the same to others."
+
+The boys listened carefully, but doubtingly.  Roland spent as much of
+his time with them as he could spare from his daily duties connected
+with the Home, and with his pen.
+
+Generally in the evening, he came and talked with them for a couple
+of hours, listening to their accounts of the day's labors, and
+reading to them some interesting matter.  He was taking care of his
+Master's cause among these poor forsaken children, and God was taking
+care of his.  Did he doubt it?  No--not for one moment.
+
+Time sped on; by degrees, the number of boys increased; they were
+gaining confidence in their kind friends.
+
+Roland took up his abode among these waifs of humanity.  Many trials
+beset his path, many discouragements; for the deep depravity of a
+whole life, short though it might have been of these juvenile
+transgressors, was not to be rooted out in a day, a week, or even a
+year.
+
+Habit was a strong giant that required the strong antagonism of
+stalwart efforts; and blow after blow must be levelled against the
+monster in the strength of Gospel warfare, ere he would show signs of
+yielding to the attacks.
+
+But Roland's manliness and benevolence were really undermining the
+citadel of sin, and in a few months he began to see the fruit of
+their labors.
+
+About fifty boys were now inmates of the Home; they were cleanly,
+interested in their mental improvement, regular in their attendance
+upon Gospel ministrations every Sunday; and although, now and then,
+their hopes were disappointed by the absconding of several, still
+their progress was onward.
+
+Let us turn for one moment to Mr. Thornly.  From the day that Roland
+left the office, Edgar's spirits drooped.  Helen watched him closely;
+her room was adjoining his; and often, late in the night, she could
+hear him pacing his room, and groaning, as if in great distress of
+mind.
+
+Once she opened the door--Edgar was tossing about, and talking in his
+sleep.
+
+"Go away, Jones," muttered the youth, "I can't get the money; two
+hundred dollars! two hundred dollars!"
+
+Helen's heart sank within her.  She had sore misgivings about her
+brother, but what was she to do?  Could she accuse him without
+farther proof?  Could she bear to see Roland suffering so wrongfully?
+
+Still her brother continued his late hours; seldom in before one or
+two o'clock in the morning.
+
+Every few days, a man would call to see him; and Edgar always
+appeared gloomy and distressed after these visits.
+
+Several times he was out; and when Helen asked the name of the person
+who called so frequently, she found to her grief that it was Jones.
+
+At last, he asked to see Mr. Thornly; then came the dreadful
+disclosure.  Edgar had been gambling to a large amount, and was
+indebted to this man several thousand dollars.
+
+Mr. Thornly was horror-struck; Edgar bowed down to the dust in shame;
+Helen overpowered with grief.
+
+"It has come at last, brother.  I knew that some dreadful grief was
+approaching--but is there not something worse than all, that is not
+yet revealed?"
+
+Edgar turned his blood-shot eyes upon his sister.
+
+"What do you mean, Helen?  Do you mean to crush me entirely?"
+
+"No, Edgar, I do not; but I want you to commence anew--give up all
+your bad associates--do justice to one that you have wronged."
+
+Edgar bowed his head upon his hands.
+
+"I wish that I were dead, Helen; I am too wretched!"
+
+"Edgar, can you not tell me something about the two hundred dollars
+that sent poor Roland away?"
+
+Edgar was silent; he groaned bitterly; and striking his head with
+anguish, he paced the floor in agony.
+
+"I can endure this no longer, Helen; I took that money; I was
+threatened by Jones with exposure, and I took it; how it has burned
+me ever since!"
+
+"Shall I tell our father, Edgar? it is better for all to come out."
+
+"Do what you please, Helen; I must have relief."
+
+Helen had a hard task to perform, but she was a true sister, and saw
+no other path by which Edgar could retrace his steps.
+
+Mr. Thornly was almost paralyzed--but reproach was not to be used
+towards a spirit so crushed as Edgar's; he was suffering enough of
+agony.
+
+His had been the error of a weak and yielding nature, furnished too
+abundantly the means of indulgence, rather than the deep duplicity of
+an accomplished villain.
+
+"Justice must be done to Roland," was the first response of Mr.
+Thornly.
+
+On the next morning, Roland's eye caught the following notice: "If
+Roland G. B----, will call at the office of Mr. Thornly, he will hear
+something important."
+
+"The day of deliverance," thought Roland; and, taking his hat, with a
+joyful step and overflowing heart, he made his way to Mr. Thornly's
+office.
+
+His former employer was seated at his desk.
+
+"I have proofs of your innocence, Roland, and I have sent for you to
+do you justice;" then, with a sadly grieved and humbled spirit, the
+father recounted the story in as few words as possible.
+
+"I knew that my innocence would be proved," answered the youth, "and
+I left my cause with God."
+
+"Had you any idea of the truth at that time, Roland?"
+
+"I had, sir; I saw Edgar's slipper near the door, and found his knife
+under the table, with which he had picked the lock.  I saw his
+depression for days before, and I supposed that some debt was
+pressing heavily upon him, which he could not discharge."
+
+"And you bore all this quietly, gave up a promising situation, left a
+comfortable home, and went out upon the world friendless, homeless,
+without a character, rather than expose my son, or pain his father's
+heart.  Truly, yours is conduct not often met with in this cold and
+selfish world."
+
+"It was my duty, sir; I could do nothing else; there were only
+suspicious circumstances, not actual proof."
+
+"And what have you been doing in the meanwhile?"
+
+"I could obtain no employment among lawyers, I have therefore been
+writing for the press; and been busy in establishing a home for
+friendless boys, like myself."
+
+"Do you mean the one in which Mark Grafton is interested?"
+
+"I do, sir; it has been a great blessing to me, for instead of
+dwelling upon my own griefs, I have been trying to lighten those of
+others, more oppressed than myself."
+
+Mr. Thornly was silent for a moment.  He was a worldly man, but this
+exhibition of Christian principle stirred up the fountains of his
+heart.  Extending his hand, he said,
+
+"Roland, can I ask you to come back again, after all that has passed?
+It would be to me a personal favor."
+
+"I am but too happy, sir, to take my old desk; I believe that the
+finger of Providence has pointed me here, and I trust that we shall
+be mutual blessings to each other."
+
+"Will you forgive my poor son, Roland? he is humbled to the dust."
+
+"Forgive! certainly, sir; nothing is more easy, nothing more
+delightful."
+
+"Will you do more?  I believe that this deep disgrace will be the
+turning point of a new life with Edgar, if we only encourage him;
+will you be his friend, Roland?" said Mr. Thornly, laying his hand
+upon the young man's shoulder, and looking in his face with a
+father's pleading eyes.
+
+"You may trust me, sir," was the frank, noble answer.
+
+Next morning, Roland took his place in the office once more.
+
+His meeting with Edgar was most painful.
+
+"Say nothing, Edgar," was Roland's first salutation, when the young
+man sat down, covering his face with his hands.
+
+"I know all--words are unnecessary; all is forgiven, entirely buried
+between us; henceforth I am your friend."
+
+"Oh!  Roland Bruce, language cannot tell what a cordial those few
+words are to me.  I feel so desponding, so crushed; I have no
+companions, I go nowhere."
+
+"That is better just now, Edgar; but after a little while, you will
+come and read law with me."
+
+Edgar spent all his time in the office.  Roland provided him, at
+first, with pleasant reading; then, by degrees, he proposed the
+course which he had pursued himself.  Edgar was but too willing to be
+guided by such a hand, and Mr. Thornly and Helen looked on with
+speechless gratitude.
+
+Roland was still interested in his homeless boys, and paid his
+periodical evening visits.  It was, indeed, a comfort to see what a
+marked change was observed in so many.
+
+One day, he was greatly surprised on perceiving a letter addressed to
+him in printed characters.  On opening it, there was a check for one
+hundred dollars, for the "Home," "from one deeply interested."  Where
+could it come from?  was his question.  Could it be from Madeline?
+How would she know about his actions?  Suddenly it occurred to him
+that Helen corresponded with her, and the thought that she might be
+thus a fellow laborer with him was very sweet, and he encouraged the
+fancy.
+
+This was, indeed, a turning point in Edgar Thornly's life--from this
+time, his whole course was changed, and his grateful father could not
+by words thank his young mentor; actions proved his gratitude.
+
+* * * * * *
+
+At the close of the second year, Roland was admitted to the bar.  Mr.
+Thornly threw all the business in his way that could be thus
+controlled, and Roland's course was upward and onward.
+
+Twice had he visited Effie during this period, found her happy, but
+with very weak eyes.
+
+Madeline was never at home when he paid his visits; therefore, she
+seemed to him almost like one from whose society he was finally shut
+out.
+
+Practice increased--his sound learning, practical common sense, and
+deep investigation into the science of law, opened a path of
+usefulness and honor.  It could, however, never be said of Roland
+Bruce, that he was the lawyer sought out by low criminals, or whose
+influence could be purchased to legalize crime; for, though heavy
+fees were offered by such, knowingly, he would not stoop to practices
+so degrading.  He soon obtained the name of "the honest lawyer," and
+none were more proud of his rising influence and talents, than the
+generous man who had afforded him so many facilities in his upward
+course.
+
+"That is an important case, Roland," said Mr. Thornly, after he had
+described to the latter, what had been placed in his hands.
+
+The man had been charged with murder, and the circumstances by which
+he was surrounded were overwhelming in their proofs against him.  By
+skillfully managing the case, and obtaining delay, proofs
+establishing his innocence were obtained at a time when all around
+the poor man was darkest.  The accused man was one universally
+esteemed; the joy felt at his acquittal was so intense, that,
+throughout the city, the press complimented the young lawyer for the
+ingenuity with which he had conducted the trial.
+
+This success brought him into public notice, and restored to the arms
+of an only and heart-broken daughter, the parent whom she loved.  A
+paper containing the account was sent to Effie, and, handing it to
+Madeline, who was then at home, the sister's heart was cheered by the
+warm embrace with which Maddy congratulated the dear girl.
+
+"Did I not say, Effie, that Roland would live to be a great man yet?
+Won't we be happy to see him here among the Beltons and the Smiths?
+Effie, do you know why he seems to have forgotten his old friend?"
+(for a minute she hesitated, and then continued with an averted
+face,) "does he ever mention Helen Thornly in his letters?"
+
+"O yes! very often, Madeline; he says she is such a lovely girl, he
+wishes that I knew her; she is a dear friend of his."
+
+"So I have heard, Effie," and Madeline said no more; but, opening the
+piano, she played several of her old pieces, but especially the
+favorite "Auld Lang Syne;" then, walking out to the garden, she
+plucked a rose from her favorite bush, and proceeding back into the
+house, and up the stair-case, she stopped to listen to the strains of
+her Eolian harp.
+
+It discoursed sad music that night, or was it the echo of her own
+spirit?
+
+"I did not think that he would have forgotten me so soon," murmured
+Madeline; "but so it is, present friends obliterate the memory of the
+absent.  I must try to forget him; but I cannot quite forget the holy
+teachings of my young days, nor would I if I could--may they remain
+forever!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+MIRAGE, OR MADELINE AFTER A TRIUMPH.
+
+"Well, daughter, I suppose that I must leave my retirement, for this
+winter at least," said Mr. Hamilton.
+
+"So you promised, papa; I am looking forward to the season with great
+expectations.  Mary Trevor is impatient for us to come early, she has
+so much in store for me.  There are Mrs. Peyton, and Mrs. Rossiter,
+and Mrs. Starr, all waiting anxiously for us; they give such elegant
+parties, papa."
+
+Mr. Hamilton looked with an expression of proud exultation upon his
+beautiful daughter, and anticipated the sensation that the advent of
+such a bright star would make in the world of fashion.
+
+Madeline was full of eager anticipation, but not heartless; she
+really regretted the parting with Effie, and the loneliness which she
+knew the young girl would suffer during her absence; for Mr. Hamilton
+and Aunt Matilda would both accompany the young heiress.
+
+"I am sorry, Effie, to leave you; but the winter will soon pass; you
+will busy yourself with looking after the house, with your needle and
+your books; and write often, dear."
+
+Effie sighed, as she almost whispered,
+
+"Madeline, a great weight is on my heart; I find my eyes daily
+becoming more and more dim; if the outer world should all be dark to
+me, what a poor useless being I should be, and what a burden to my
+friends!"
+
+"Don't imagine such an affliction, dear Effie; Dr. Jenks shall attend
+to your case at once; but do try to keep up your spirits.  I have
+often thought, Effie, that we ought to try to do something for the
+people in the neighborhood; there are several families that we have
+been accustomed to help; I will appoint you my almoner.  There are
+four old persons to be supplied with warm garments and coal for the
+winter; and three or four invalids that need weekly care.  Nanny
+makes gruel or other comforts for Mary Swain the cripple, and it
+would be a pleasure to me to know that they are all attended to."
+
+Effie brightened at the prospect of such work, for employment like
+this was the element of her nature.
+
+"Take good care of my flowers, Effie, especially my rosebush, and
+when I come back, let me see some roses on your pale cheeks, dear."
+
+"You will not forget me, dear friend, that I know," said Effie,
+folding her affectionately in her arms, and pressing a loving kiss
+upon her cheek, she whispered, "do not forget the Blessed Saviour,
+Madeline; you will be surrounded by a thousand temptations."
+
+A tear glistened in Madeline's eye, but she dashed it aside, and said,
+
+"Effie, don't be distressed about me; some of these days I will be
+just as good as you can wish, but I must have a peep at the gay world
+first."
+
+"Some of these days, Madeline; how little do we know about the days
+appointed us."
+
+The day of departure arrived; the trunks were all strapped; Mr.
+Hamilton and Aunt Matilda seated in the carriage, and Madeline,
+folding her humble friend in her arms once more, took her seat by her
+father.
+
+"Farewell, Effie, be bright and cheerful, dear; we shall soon be back
+again."
+
+The young girl stood upon the piazza as long as she could see the
+carriage, and turning into the house with a sad heart, Effie sought
+and found the comfort that she needed, at the feet of her own dear
+Saviour.
+
+Let us follow Madeline to the scene of her introduction into the gay
+world.
+
+Established in an elegant suite of rooms in one of the most
+fashionable hotels in New York, Madeline and her aunt were busily
+occupied in giving orders for her winter outfit.
+
+This was Aunt Matilda's element, and neither expense nor pains were
+spared on the wardrobe of the young lady.
+
+Soon cards from the upper circles of the great metropolis multiplied
+in the card basket of our young novice.
+
+All was pleasure and excitement, and weeks were occupied in returning
+these numerous visits, and attending to milliners, dressmakers, &c.
+Madeline's first appearance for the season was at the ball of Mrs.
+Rossiter, one of the leaders of fashion in New York.
+
+Attired in the most exquisite taste, for the first time her mother's
+diamonds adorned her person.
+
+When she entered the elegant room, leaning upon the arm of her
+father, all eyes were turned towards her, in whispers of admiration.
+
+As she passed, "Beautiful!" "exquisite!" "charming!" greeted her
+everywhere.
+
+"Let us be seated, papa," murmured Madeline, for the public gaze was
+oppressive.
+
+She was the centre of attraction the whole evening, her hand sought
+for in every dance; truly, the young girl was completely bewildered
+and intoxicated.
+
+And so, night after night, the ovation of flattery was laid at the
+feet of Madeline Hamilton.
+
+Harry Castleton was among the most devoted of her admirers; but he
+was simply tolerated, for Madeline saw through the shallowness of his
+pretensions, and really pitied his contemptible folly.
+
+"Well, papa, who do you think is the reigning star this winter?" said
+Helen Thornly.
+
+"I do not know much about the gay world now, daughter, for I tired of
+it long ago; but I suppose every season has its own particular star,
+that shines a little while, to be eclipsed by another."
+
+"Madeline Hamilton is the theme of every tongue; her beauty, her
+wealth, her accomplishments, have made her all the ton--the beaux are
+crazy to be found in her train, and the belles are dying of envy."
+
+"Have you met her anywhere, Helen?"
+
+"Yes, papa, at Mrs. Trevor's--she is splendid in her point lace and
+diamonds.  I wish you could have seen her; and yet she does not seem
+vain.  She always was an artless, impulsive girl; but I think New
+York will spoil her simplicity."
+
+Roland listened to the remarks, and felt a deeper sinking of the
+heart, as he realized the ordeal through which Madeline was passing;
+but still, remembering all the past, and the power of first
+impressions, he could look upward, and trust that she would yet come
+out unscathed.  Her world was entirely remote from his; they met but
+occasionally, and that in the street, but seldom at Mr. Thornly's.
+
+The opera, balls, parties innumerable, engrossed her time, but was
+she happy?
+
+Let us follow her awhile after her evening triumph.  She had spent
+the evening at Mrs. Starr's, one of the gayest parties of the season.
+
+Magnificent dressing, the most costly viands of the table, the most
+fashionable band of music, scores of admirers, and strains of the
+most intoxicating flattery met her everywhere.  Her triumph was
+complete.
+
+Was Madeline happy?  To have looked at her bright young face beaming
+with smiles, to have listened to her musical laugh, and sparkling
+repartee, to have watched her light and airy motions in the graceful
+waltz, one would have pronounced her the gayest of the gay.
+
+But there was a depth in the heart of Madeline Hamilton which could
+not be filled by these empty vanities, a thirst for a better life,
+which could never be satisfied with this mere mirage in the
+pilgrimage of an immortal.
+
+Wearied and heart-sick, she enters her dressing-room, and seating
+herself, commences disrobing.
+
+Unbinding her luxuriant hair, she lays aside the glittering ornaments
+and the faded flowers; leaning her head upon her hands, she weeps
+over the emptiness of her daily life.
+
+Placing her jewels in a small casket, she opens a little box in her
+writing-desk; reverently she turns over the leaves of an old book,
+revealing branches of withered seaweed; and in another corner of the
+desk, a cluster of common shells.  The sight of these simple things
+opens the flood-gates of her heart; and, pressing the sea-weed to her
+burning lips, she weeps in the anguish of her spirit.
+
+Memory is busy--back to the sea-shore, the Maple Lane School, the
+cemetery, the little cottage of the humble widow.
+
+The present is fading--she had had a distant view of the glittering
+world; she had longed for its pleasures; nearer and nearer had she
+approached the shining lake where she hoped to quench her thirst;
+but, stooping down to drink, she had found the world like the mirage
+in the burning sands of the desert, a mere illusion! a mighty cheat!
+O! for an hour of those early days! those simple childish pleasures!
+O! for the teachings of that young Mentor, who so wisely controlled
+the impetuosity of her high spirit, and tamed the wilfulness of her
+proud young heart.
+
+She had listened to the tones of flattery, until they had palled upon
+her ear, and sickened her heart; and for one approving, yea, even one
+kind reproving glance of the dark eye of Roland Bruce, she would have
+given all, and more than all that the world had ever given her.
+
+She recalls the holy lessons that had led her young heart to think of
+better things.
+
+She compares Roland's character with all that she had met in the gay
+world, and feels that was mere tinsel; his was pure and solid gold.
+
+She touches the simple weeds with fond, caressing fingers, and almost
+resolves to turn away from the gay, glittering throng.
+
+But alas! the friend of her youth is lost to her.
+
+She believes the tale that Lavinia has so often told, and almost
+envied Helen Thornly the daily companionship of such a spirit as the
+one that had forgotten her.
+
+"But I may cherish these dear mementoes yet," sighed Madeline; "they
+speak of such holy, blessed things, that even the sight of them
+refreshes me."
+
+Placing them reverently in her desk, she commits herself to God's
+keeping, and retires to her rest.
+
+The world was fast losing its hold upon Madeline; the power of early
+teaching was returning.
+
+"Papa, shall we go home early in the season?" said Madeline; "I long
+for Woodcliff."
+
+"Just as soon as you please, daughter; are you getting tired of the
+gayeties of New York?"
+
+"I am sick of them, papa; I would rather spend one month at Woodcliff
+now, where I could ramble by the old sea-shore, sail in my own boat
+on the clear lake, or ride dear old Selim up and down the lanes, as I
+used to when a child."
+
+Her father smiled, for he longed for the elegant retirement of his
+own home; but Aunt Matilda remonstrated.
+
+"Surely, brother, you will not allow Madeline to be so foolish; she
+might, at least, spend the whole season here."
+
+"She may do just as she pleases, Matilda," was the answer; "I am glad
+that she retains her love of domestic life, after all the gayety of
+this winter."
+
+Aunt Matilda sought Mr. Hamilton's private ear.
+
+"I hope that you will not listen to Madeline's folly, brother, after
+going to so much expense in bringing her out, and when so many of the
+very first in the land are ready to lay their fortunes at her feet,
+here you are marring her prospects for a mere whim."
+
+"Really, Matilda, I did not bring Madeline to market, I am not so
+anxious to be rid of my daughter, and if she is more happy in
+domestic life than in the gay world, I am only too glad to encourage
+the feeling.  She has seen just what the world is, and has sense
+enough to understand its hollowness."
+
+* * * * * * * *
+
+Roland is rising rapidly in his profession, still interested in his
+"Home for the News-boys," and esteemed by his kind and generous
+patron.
+
+"Do you know, papa," said Helen, one day, "that Madeline is going
+home; here in the very midst of all her triumphs, she is longing for
+Woodcliff--so she says, but she always was a strange girl; I don't
+know what to think of her."
+
+Roland felt a thrill of joy pass through his heart at this
+intelligence, for it seemed to say that Madeline was not spoiled by
+the gay world.  How he longed to see her, and his wish was speedily
+gratified.
+
+A carriage stopped at Mr. Thornly's door, which he recognized at once
+as Mr. Hamilton's--in the next minute, Madeline stepped out, and sent
+the carriage away.  It was not a mere call, then, and he hoped to see
+her, ere she left New York.
+
+She had come to spend a social evening with Helen, and Roland having
+the free entrance to the drawing-room at all times, sought his young
+friend.
+
+"You are going to leave us, Miss Madeline," was his first salutation.
+
+"Yes, I really long for Woodcliff; a peep at New York life has been
+sufficient."
+
+A bright smile passed over Roland's face.  "I was afraid, or rather I
+thought that you might have been intoxicated by its flattery."
+
+"It is very empty, Mr. Bruce, all mirage and outside show; I want
+something better; point lace and diamonds, with glitter and show
+without sincerity, will not satisfy one that once longed for inward
+peace."
+
+They are sitting apart from the rest, who were engaged in their own
+conversation.
+
+Roland drew near to Madeline, and in a low tone, he whispered,
+
+"Madeline, do you long for this better life now?"
+
+She blushed deeply at the old familiar name, as she replied,
+
+"Most intensely, Roland; the world has lost its charms for me."
+
+Just then, Helen stepped up, and interrupted the conversation.
+
+"Will you not persuade Madeline to sing?" said the young girl.
+
+"If you will favor us first, Helen;" and Roland led her to the piano,
+and stood turning over the leaves for her, while she sang.
+
+Was it the tenderness of a lover, or the mere interest of a friend
+that marked his manner towards Helen? inquired Madeline of her heart.
+
+There was something in the glance of Helen that betrayed more than a
+common interest.  But what meant Roland's whispered words? old
+affection? or mere brotherly regard for one whom he remembered as a
+mere wayward child?
+
+After Helen, she took her seat at the piano, and song after song was
+called for.
+
+With all the simplicity of childish days, she poured forth those
+strains of thrilling melody, once heard, never to be forgotten.
+
+Roland shaded his eyes to hide the deep emotion which he could not
+control, when she warbled forth, "Ye banks and braes o' Bonny Doon,"
+with the sweet pathos of her touching voice.  He could not answer,
+even when she turned, and with the innocence of early days, said, in
+a low tone,
+
+"That was your mother's favorite, Mr. Bruce."
+
+He bowed, but could not reply.
+
+The evening passed; Madeline spoke her farewells to the family.
+
+Roland handed her to the carriage
+
+"Remember me in your daily prayers, Roland."
+
+"God bless you, Madeline, forever and ever; and I feel that he will
+with his choicest blessings."
+
+"Helen is a sweet girl; I hope that you may be happy."
+
+The carriage drove off--Roland retired to muse upon the evening, and
+the next day, Madeline was on her road to Woodcliff.
+
+On the following day, a note was delivered to Roland with a check for
+one hundred dollars for the "Home for the News-boys."
+
+Once more in sight of Woodcliff, Madeline's heart beat warmly towards
+every object around her dear home.
+
+Effie was on the piazza to meet her, but Madeline was shocked to see
+the change in the dear girl.
+
+"Oh! how welcome you are, Madeline!  I have been so lonely; if it had
+not been for the poor people that you gave me to take care of, I
+should have been dreary enough; for Dr. Jenks will not allow me to
+use my eyes at all."
+
+"I am so glad to be back at the dear old home, Effie."
+
+"Why, you did not stay as long as you intended, Madeline."
+
+"No, I begged papa to bring me home; I have seen enough of New York;
+I never was made for fashionable life, Effie."
+
+"And you really have come back to us, Madeline, perfectly free,
+notwithstanding all the fortunes that have been laid at your feet."
+
+"How did you hear all this, Effie?
+
+"Miss Matilda used to write us such descriptions of your numerous
+conquests, that I often felt as if we had lost you altogether."
+
+"You need never be afraid of such empty-headed fops as I have seen,
+Effie; I scarcely met a man of sense while I was away."
+
+Madeline felt the need of some strong guiding hand in her present
+state of feeling; and, after she had been at home a few weeks, begged
+her father to allow her to visit Aunt Clara once more.
+
+Mr. Hamilton felt as if he could scarcely spare her.
+
+"I shall not stay long, papa; I do so want to see my dear aunt, and
+she has written for me so often."
+
+"You may go, Madeline, if you will promise me to return in one month;
+no longer, my daughter; I want you near me, my dear child, for I am
+not so well as usual."
+
+"Perhaps I had better stay, papa."
+
+"No, Madeline, you can go; if I need you, I will send for you."
+
+On the evening before her departure, she had visited the library, and
+turning over some familiar books, she came at last to her portfolio,
+that she had used when a school-girl.  Listlessly looking through its
+contents, a card dropped out, on which was sketched what she was sure
+was a picture of herself, as she appeared on the evening when she had
+first met Roland.
+
+It was a spirited little picture; but who had drawn it?
+
+She hurried to Effie, and holding up the card, said,
+
+"Do you know who sketched this?"
+
+"I think it must have been Roland; for one evening when he was here,
+he was a long time in the library; and I know that he draws
+beautifully."
+
+Looking on the back of the card, she saw the initials R.G.B., and
+soon the sweet memento was placed among Madeline's treasures.
+
+Taking Hector as her companion, she sought the dearest spot around
+Woodcliff, and soon seated on the rock near the old flag-staff,
+memory wandered over the past.
+
+The incident in the library had touched her deeply; but then that was
+simply a memory of childhood, and she had doubtless been forgotten
+since that time, or only remembered as an old friend; for had not
+Lavinia declared more than once that Roland was actually betrothed to
+Helen Thornly; for her own cousin had said so.
+
+Ere she left the shore, she visited old Peter.  He was living yet,
+and hastened to meet the young lady whom he had so often seen on the
+sea-shore.
+
+"Well, dear me! the children will grow to be men and women, it seems;
+but a little while ago since you and Roland were skipping about here
+as happy children; now, you are a young lady, and Roland such a
+fine-looking young man!  The last time he was down, he came to visit
+me in the old cabin--says he, 'Peter, you don't care for that little
+shoe that is up in the shelf?'"
+
+"No," says I, "it is no use to me, but I kept it a good while because
+the little girl dropped it here, and she was a bright child, and very
+good to Uncle Peter."
+
+"Did you give it to him?" inquired Madeline.
+
+"Yes, I did, and he placed it in his pocket, and took it away--a
+queer fancy for a young man to be hoarding up old shoes."
+
+"Did he ask for one of yours, Uncle Peter?" inquired Madeline, with
+her old smile of mischief.
+
+"Bless your heart! my young lady, he did not want my old shoes; for
+he only wanted that one, because it belonged to the little foot that
+used to run about here on the old beach."
+
+This was pleasant talk, and she wondered if Roland really did think
+as much of the little shoe as she did of the faded sea-weed that lay
+hidden in the desk.
+
+"I suppose that he did _then_," thought she; "but that perhaps was
+before he knew Helen Thornly."
+
+"Are you comfortable, Uncle Peter?" asked the young girl, before she
+left the cabin.
+
+"Well, you see, Miss, I should like to have some tobacco; mine is
+about gone, and it is hard enough to get it sometimes."
+
+"You shall have some, Uncle Peter;" and the next day Madeline sent to
+the nearest store for a good supply for the old man.
+
+"God bless her bright young face! she always had a warm heart, but a
+quick, high temper.  I wonder how it is now; she'll come all right
+by-and-bye."
+
+Madeline wondered for several days what Roland had done with the
+little shoe; but she guessed at last that it thrown away before this.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+THE EARLY DAWN.
+
+"I shall not leave you long, dear papa," was Madeline's farewell; and
+Aunt Clara was but too happy to see her dear niece once more.
+
+"I have heard glowing accounts of your winter in New York, Madeline;
+I really was afraid that you would be wholly intoxicated by its
+temptations."
+
+"I was for awhile, dear aunt, but I discovered that all was mere
+mirage; there was an inner life that was wholly starved in that
+heartless round of folly."
+
+"How did you spend your time, Madeline?"
+
+"In dressing, shopping, singing, waltzing, going to the opera, making
+and receiving calls, in hearing frothy talk, and scandalous remarks,
+in listening to the flattery of a score of empty-headed fops, coming
+home tired at night, sleeping late next morning, and longing for one
+sight of nature, one true friend, one satisfying portion.  Aunt
+Clara, I learned to loathe the empty life, and I have come to you
+longing for something better."
+
+Folding her niece in her arms, she imprinted a warm kiss on the fair
+young forehead, and said,
+
+"There are fountains of living water, Madeline; these only can quench
+the burning thirst of an immortal spirit."
+
+"I must find them, dear Aunt Clara, for I am fainting for thirst."
+
+Lucy Edmonds was happy again, for dearly did she love the
+warm-hearted girl.  Madeline's openness, her generous heart, her
+plain bluntness, her perfect transparency of character, charmed her,
+and contrasted with Lavinia's worldliness and vanity; it was really
+refreshing to hear her sweet young voice, and see her moving about
+again in her aunt's household.
+
+This was an important era in the life of Madeline Hamilton, for a
+great change was passing silently in her moral nature, and a peep
+into her journal will reveal something of her inner life.
+
+"New York.  At length I have seen something of this bright world, of
+which I have heard so much.  Last night was my first appearance at
+Mrs. Rossiter's ball.  Dear papa spared no expense upon my dress; it
+was exquisite--white silk with point lace, flowers, and my mother's
+diamonds.  I suppose that it was a beautiful vision that dawned upon
+the world, for the language of flattery and admiration met me on
+every side; and, must I say it?  I was, for awhile, pleased with the
+cup offered to my lips.  Papa was gratified, Aunt Matilda in
+ecstasies, and I, while in the midst of the gay scene, was
+enchanted--all was so new, so beautiful, so grand.
+
+"Why did I sigh when I entered my dressing-room, and shut out the
+world?  And yet I did sigh, and said to myself, 'Is this all?  Empty
+heart! what is it longing for?  With everything this world can give,
+but within, an aching void.'
+
+"I have seen Roland, saw him at church, but he did not see me.  How
+calm! how devotional his whole manner!  O, for the peace that he
+enjoys!
+
+"Mr. Grafton called a few days ago to see papa; all his talk was of
+Roland.  Roland's goodness!  Roland's benevolence!  Roland's talents!
+It was a pleasant theme--and, when he told about the News-boys' Home,
+which he had helped to establish, I felt so proud of him.  I wonder
+what made him think so much of the news-boys! could he have been once
+as poor, as destitute as they?  Mr. Grafton hinted it.  Poor Roland!
+what he must have suffered!  But why should I feel proud of him?  He
+is Helen Thornly's betrothed; so the world thinks, so Mr. Grafton
+supposes, and Lavinia Raymond declares.
+
+* * * * * *
+
+"At the opera, last night, the music was divine; but the bewildering
+acting, the unchaste appearance of the women, the glitter and parade
+of the audience,--was this what Roland would approve of?
+
+"I lead two lives, one in the outside world, where all is show, and
+giddy pleasure; another, an inner life, with every fibre of my nature
+sending out its clasping tendrils to reach something substantial,
+enduring, satisfying.  Like the delicate air-plant fluttering in the
+breeze, I stretch forward to grasp it, but it is gone.  I have not
+found it yet.  Who would believe it, that sees Madeline Hamilton
+surrounded by flatterers, intoxicated for the moment with the gay
+blandishments of the world, smiling, waltzing, sparkling in
+magnificence?  Who would believe that, in the silence of the night,
+she mourns, and weeps, and longs for something better.
+
+"I have heard of that better part, that higher life, from Mrs. Bruce,
+from Aunt Clara, from Roland.  I have seen it in the calm
+tranquillity of their daily life, in the blessed hopes of a
+Christian's death.
+
+* * * * * *
+
+"Last night, I was at Mrs. Rossiter's ball; it was superb! but Oh!
+how hollow!  Even while receiving the hospitalities of their hostess,
+how many heartless ones did I hear whispering disparaging remarks,
+criticizing the entertainment, and prophesying the downfall of the
+establishment.  I am sick of this folly--would that I were back at
+Woodcliff, among the green trees, the quiet lanes, the grand old
+ocean, the solemn cemetery, with dear Effie, my good old Hector,
+faithful Selim, my pets, my flowers; anything but this heartless,
+empty show.
+
+"O! what an hour I spent when I retired!  I opened my desk, and there
+lay the dear old sea-weed, given so long ago by my best friend, my
+childish guide, my model boy--now such a noble man.  I pressed them
+to my burning lips; what would I give for one hour's heart communion,
+such as we used to love in days that are gone.  He could guide me, he
+could strengthen me, but he is gone, he is another's now.  Then I
+prayed--yes, earnestly--fervently; and I resolved that this empty,
+frothy, sinful life should end.  It must be sinful; it cannot be
+right that an accountable creature should spend the solemn days of
+probation in such frivolity.
+
+"Next morning, I told papa that we must go home--Aunt Matilda opposed
+it--she does not understand me, but Roland does.  I met him at Helen
+Thornly's--something of the old tenderness in his manner; but still
+there is a gulf between us which seems impassable.  But I can cherish
+the memory of all that he used to be, and all that he has taught me.
+All that I know of goodness, and high and holy things, I have learned
+from that beggar boy, as Harry Castleton has dared to call him, and
+even now!  I felt as if I could wither him with my scorn, and
+certainly annihilated him with one of my haughtiest looks, for I have
+not seen him since that day.  Harry Castleton scorn Roland Bruce!
+Roland in a cottage, struggling with poverty, as I have seen him,
+with the grand and lofty spirit of the Gordons; and Harry Castleton,
+rolling in wealth, the dweller in a palace, would be simply Roland
+and Harry still.
+
+* * * * * *
+
+"At home again!  How I ran about with my winter hood, and
+water-proof, visiting the old familiar spots, and rejoicing in the
+presence of my dumb pets.  The dear old library--my harp and piano,
+like faithful friends, seemed to welcome me again; the sweet Eolian
+sounded out a loud pæan, for sharp March winds swept over its
+strings, and it, too, seemed rejoicing.
+
+"How shall I occupy my time?  There is a great deal here to do.  I
+should like to do some good in the world, and live for something
+beside myself.
+
+"Could I not gather a little group of poor children, and teach them?
+Could I not establish something like a parish school?  There are so
+many poor people around us, that only live a wild life,--children of
+the fishermen.  Effie could help me, and we would be so happy
+together.  Then, after awhile, we might perhaps have the services of
+our own church; I could get a missionary to come here twice a-month
+from Boston, and then we may have a church of our own; but I must see
+Aunt Clara first, she can direct me.
+
+* * * * * *
+
+"I am with Aunt Clara again.  There is rest in her very smile; the
+soft silver hair lies so quietly around her mild face; the peace of
+God breathes in every look and motion.  She is so different from Aunt
+Matilda--she draws me heavenward; Aunt Matilda drags me down.
+
+"Poor aunty! what a pity that she has nothing but the things of this
+world to lean upon! no wonder that she feels their insecurity.  But,
+dear Aunt Clara, so patient, so peaceful, so happy.  I can pour out
+my whole heart, I can tell her all my thoughts.
+
+"She seems to anticipate all I have to say.  How sweet the name of
+Jesus sounds, uttered by her lips!  She talks to me of his
+tenderness, his fulness, his preciousness, until sometimes I feel,
+'None but Jesus!'
+
+"Then clouds come again--I lose my hope, and all is dark.  But still
+I trust that there is some progress in the inner life.  I love my
+Bible; the hour of prayer is precious; the house of God, my chief
+joy.  Nothing will draw me to the world again, I hope; and yet my
+'heart is deceitful above all things,' as regards the things of God.
+
+"Lavinia urges me to follow in her sinful, foolish ways; I will
+not--I have refused her invitations repeatedly, and she tries the
+power of ridicule.  She does not know me, or she would not try the
+weakness of such a weapon.
+
+"I am too proud yet to yield to such a mode of opposition.  Just let
+me believe myself a Christian, and Lavinia's ridicule will only
+excite my sorrow.
+
+"The gay world has lost its charms for me, and I care not what
+Lavinia and her friends may say.  She has told me a great deal about
+Helen Thornly, and has convinced me, that she is, indeed, the chosen
+companion of Roland's future life--may they be happy!  She says that
+Roland always speaks of me with the affection of a brother, very
+calmly, but never seems willing to talk about Helen.
+
+"How much of my present state of feeling may arise from this loss of
+my early friend.  If so, how little is this weariness of the world to
+be trusted! in other circumstances, the power of the world may all
+return.
+
+"I went to hear Mr. Endicott, Aunt Clara's pastor.  What an earnest,
+faithful sermon!  What a picture of our sinful nature he drew!  it is
+all too true.  And where is our help?  'Look unto me,' says the
+Blessed Saviour; do I look unto him? if I did, would not peace visit
+my bosom?
+
+"Oh! for a living faith!  Sometimes I feel as if I really had
+exercised such trust, and then the merest trifle draws my heart away,
+and my peace vanishes.
+
+"Lavinia has such power to annoy me--she takes malicious pleasure in
+bringing all the gossip that she can about Roland--why should I be so
+disturbed?  He is only my friend; I am mortified that I should allow
+myself to dwell so much upon these circumstances.  I had a letter
+from Helen, yesterday--it was full of Roland--she says if I could
+know all, I would value him as highly as she does.
+
+"How little does she know of me!  What can be the secret which she
+cannot disclose?  She says that it places him among the noblest and
+the best of men.  She writes as if she were on terms of close
+intimacy with Roland; writes of mending his clothes, attending to his
+room, helping him in his work among the News-boys.  It is evident
+that she loves Roland Bruce; and how can she do otherwise, living in
+the house with him on such familiar terms?  May they be happy
+together!  But it does seem strange that he can forget his old friend
+so soon.
+
+"A letter from papa; he is not well--he says that the parlor is so
+melancholy, the harp so silent; he wishes me to return; I promised
+him that I would; and nothing can keep me away.
+
+"Aunt Clara is sorry to have me go so soon, but she thinks it is my
+duty, and bids me depart.  I am going, to-morrow--she prayed so
+earnestly alone with me, that I might be kept from the temptations of
+the world, and brought really to the feet of Jesus.
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+"I am at home again--papa looks so thin and pale; his spirits are
+very low--Effie's eyes are no better; I am troubled about the dear
+girl, more than she is about herself; she seems to live in the spirit
+of a beautiful hymn.
+
+  'Sweet to lie passive in his hands,
+  And know no will but his.'
+
+
+"I spent my first evening at the harp, playing for dear papa; he
+seemed so happy to have me at home again--how fondly he hung over me
+all the evening!
+
+"What should I be without him?  I cannot bear to think of such a time.
+
+"He called me to his side before he retired, and opening a casket,
+gave me such a beautiful set of emeralds; he is never tired of
+lavishing gifts upon his darling child.
+
+"To-day Effie was sitting near the window trying to knit a little;
+she seemed sorely perplexed, frequently dropping her stitches, and
+scarcely able to take them up again--Aunt Matilda observed her.
+
+"'What are you worrying yourself for, Effie, with that knitting?'
+
+"'I am so tired of doing nothing,' replied the dear girl, while large
+tears rolled over her cheeks.
+
+"Poor dear Effie!  I fear that she is really losing her sight--so
+patient! so resigned! so ready for the will of her Heavenly Father,
+whatever that may be.
+
+"Roland had heard of her sickness, and has been to see her--'He was
+so kind,' Effie says; 'so gentle to his little sister.'  She says
+that he asked a great deal about me.  I wonder if he has the little
+shoe yet--how foolish all this is!  I ought not to write such folly.
+
+"I have a great deal of time unoccupied--ought I not to do something
+for this neighborhood?
+
+"But how shall I begin?  In my walk, yesterday, I rambled among the
+factory children; they seem very poor and ignorant; can I not do
+something for them?
+
+"Aunt Clara gave me some little books and tracts for just such
+people; I think I will take some among them.
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+"I went this morning along the factory lane, with my little basket in
+my hand; the children found that I had pretty books with pictures.
+Soon they were running after me.
+
+"'Lady, please give me a little book,' cried one little girl.  'Give
+me one, lady,' 'and me,' 'and me,' sounded out a score of young
+voices, all eager for a book, or a tract.
+
+"The books were soon all gone, and I had the pleasure of seeing
+several sit down by the road-side, eagerly examining the pictures,
+while others ran in to show their mothers what they had got.  I think
+very few can read, for they only looked at the pictures.
+
+"One little curly-headed girl, with bare feet and ragged clothes,
+came pulling me by the dress.
+
+"'Lady, please come and see my mammy; she is very sick.'
+
+"I followed the child, and found her poor mother extended upon a bed
+of sickness, with every appearance of want and misery.  I questioned
+her; she had been sick for two months; often in need of food; her two
+children worked at the factory, and their scanty wages was all that
+she had.
+
+"'Oh, ma'am! the rich don't know the value of the broken pieces which
+they throw away; but we know, ma'am.'
+
+"I left her some money, and promised to remember poor Mrs.
+Donnelly--she had set me to earnest thinking.  Her grateful look
+repaid me for that visit.
+
+"In the next cottage was an old bed-ridden grandmother; in another a
+cripple; and enough all around to convince me that Madeline Hamilton
+must not spend an idle life around Woodcliff.  Just to think that I
+have lived so many years in elegance and ease, and all this misery at
+my very doors.  I thought of the parable of the steward, and his
+Lord's return to reckon.  It is true that a great deal was sent out
+from Woodcliff among the neighboring poor, but it could not be said
+of us generally, 'I was sick and ye visited me.'  I must do
+something--but how shall it be?  I will ask Effie; she knows a great
+deal about these people.  Roland could tell me; his earnest, warm
+heart, and strong good sense, would see the way at once.  It will be
+so pleasant to know that I am working in the same field with
+Roland--he, for the misery of New York, and I, for that around
+Woodcliff.  These poor children have no time for school, and yet they
+are so ignorant; can I teach them in any way?  They might stop work
+on Saturday; I would pay their mother their wages, and they could
+come to me in the afternoon; they would thus lose no money, and gain
+much knowledge.  I will try, and Effie can help me to gather the
+children.
+
+* * * * * *
+
+"I went yesterday--six little ones promised to come on Saturday.
+Aunt Matilda is shocked with the idea of a Miss Hamilton becoming the
+Lady Bountiful of the neighborhood.
+
+"'What will Mrs. Grundy say?' is ever uppermost with poor aunty.
+
+"I have a room all my own, where I can do just what I please; my
+pleasant sitting-room, where I can easily manage twelve little girls.
+I will have some nice desks and benches made, and James can bring
+them in every Saturday.
+
+"Yesterday my little class came--they were all clean, but several
+barefoot and ragged.
+
+"They seemed quite bewildered by the pretty things around them.  I
+played a simple hymn, and tried to teach them to say it; but they
+were struck dumb with amazement.  I suppose that they had never seen
+a piano before.
+
+"I amused them then by telling them a story.  Effie took them out in
+the garden, and gave each a bunch of flowers.  They looked so
+pleased, poor little things!  What a pity that I had not known before
+how cheap a thing it is to make others happy, and that my garden
+could brighten so many little faces; but I don't think that they were
+so happy as I--my heart felt so warm, and tears of gratitude would
+rise, when I remembered all God's goodness to me.  There was a warm
+glow of sunshine around Woodcliff on Saturday afternoon, and it shall
+come again.
+
+"Effie thinks we had a good beginning; the little ones promised to
+come next Saturday.
+
+"Aunt Matilda laughs at my new folly, as she terms it, saying, 'that
+I will soon grow tired of it.'
+
+"Papa says, 'I am glad that Madeline has thought of the children; it
+will employ much of her time.  I sometimes think that we spend a very
+useless life here at Woodcliff.'
+
+"Aunt Matilda replies, 'I am sure, Lewis, that you cannot expect me
+to enter into any such plans.  I am much too delicate with my nervous
+temperament; it would drive me crazy to teach little children; and I
+do think that Madeline Hamilton might find employment more worthy of
+a young lady.'
+
+"I have written to Helen to send me some shoes for children, and some
+books, giving her a short account of what we are doing.
+
+"Saturday came again--my six little girls were punctual; but it was a
+rainy day, and they brought some mud.
+
+"Aunt Matilda was very angry, and said harsh things.  I replied
+haughtily, and with one of my outbursts of temper.
+
+"'Well, Madeline, if this is your piety, I want nothing to do with
+it.'
+
+"'I don't pretend to piety, aunt; I only want to do some good in the
+world; and I think that you might help, instead of hinder me.'
+
+"I was ashamed of myself, and deeply depressed for all that day--will
+I ever learn to bridle my tongue?
+
+"The little ones were glad to get their new shoes--I gave them their
+first lessons; they were very dull, for they have never been taught
+anything; and it was hard to keep their eyes from wandering about the
+room, and out into the garden, for the glass doors of my sitting room
+open directly on the garden, filled with beautiful flowers.  A hymn
+which they tried to sing, and a bunch of flowers for each, closed the
+exercises."
+
+* * * * * *
+
+The school went on prosperously for several weeks; the numbers
+increased to twelve; and Madeline was pleased to see some
+improvement.  Effie taught each one orally verses from the Bible, and
+simple hymns, for she could not use her eyes at all.
+
+Weekly the young girls visited the factory lane, and soon the poor
+people learned to look for the visit with great delight.
+
+The sick mother was tenderly cared for; the old grandmother provided
+with what she needed; the cripple comforted by kind words, and gentle
+ministrations; and Madeline felt the joy of knowing that she was
+doing something towards lightening human misery.  But Effie's eyes
+were growing worse; it was deemed advisable to consult a New York
+oculist; and Madeline was obliged to accompany the young girl.
+
+The Saturday school was for awhile suspended, much to the
+disappointment of the little ones, for they were very sorry to lose
+their kind teachers.
+
+Being alone, it was thought proper that they should take up their
+abode in a private boarding-house, for Madeline could not burden her
+friend Mary Trevor with the charge of Effie.
+
+But little encouragement was given by the great oculist; and Madeline
+was now convinced that her friend was doomed to a life of darkness.
+
+Roland was not in New York when they first arrived, having gone to a
+neighboring town on important business.  Madeline was devoted in her
+attendance upon Effie; reading to her, and in every way that
+affection could invent, trying to turn her thoughts from herself.
+Effie was, however, in habits of daily self-communion, schooling her
+young heart to what she felt was coming.  "God help me!" was her
+constant cry; and when was that feeble prayer ever disregarded by the
+dear Father in Heaven?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+"AULD LANG SYNE."
+
+Madeline's presence in New York is soon known among her friends;
+numberless cards are left at her house, but as her errand is one
+chiefly of business, she returns but few calls; a few exceptions,
+however, are made; for she wishes Effie to have some cheerful society.
+
+Occasionally, excursions are made around New York for the purpose of
+amusing her young friend, for Madeline spares no pains to cheer her
+drooping spirits.
+
+Roland has returned; he has been absent on exceedingly annoying and
+troublesome business, and somewhat to throw off care, takes a boat
+for the bay.
+
+It is a beautiful evening, and has invited a merry party of ladies
+and gentlemen to take the same excursion.
+
+Roland does not relish the companionship of the light-hearted, and
+withdraws himself from their neighborhood; not far from where he
+stands, he observes the form of a lady leaning over the side of the
+boat; sometimes gazing dreamily upon the water, then upon the heavens
+above; it looks like a familiar form.
+
+He recognizes the face of Madeline, but avoids recognition, because
+he wishes to watch her movements.  She seems melancholy and
+abstracted, and hums sadly a familiar air, one that he had taught
+her; the dear old song of "Auld Lang Syne."
+
+"Does she remember those happy times?" thought the young man, "and
+surrounded as she is by so much to make her forget those early days;
+does she still cherish the memory of her boyish friend?"
+
+He observed her wipe a tear silently away, and as she turned to renew
+her walk, Roland moved towards her, and she recognized the object of
+her thoughts.
+
+"Mr. Bruce!" "Miss Madeline!" were the hasty salutations, as each
+extended a hand of welcome.
+
+"How came you here, Miss Madeline?" was Roland's first question.
+
+"I am here with Effie, for advice with regard to her eyes."
+
+"Is she with you to-night?"
+
+"She is not, for she has but little heart for amusement; she insisted
+on my coming, and I have left her in good company for the evening."
+
+"You were musing, Miss Madeline," said Roland, in a lower voice, "and
+singing that old Scotch song; did it recall former childish days?"
+
+For a minute, Madeline did not reply; at last she said, "I shall
+never forget those days; how often do I need just such a friend as I
+had then."
+
+"There is a friend, Madeline, 'that sticketh closer than a brother;'
+have you found him yet?"
+
+"I am trying, Roland, but there is much to hinder; my faith is very
+weak; my heart very deceitful."
+
+"Your Saviour knows that, Madeline; he is not only the 'author, but
+the finisher of our faith;' if you have any, even as much as the
+grain of mustard seed, it is of his planting; he only can make it
+grow; do you look to him daily?" and Roland bent more closely to
+Madeline, as they paced the deck together.
+
+"I think I have that little grain; but my great infirmities of
+character do so harass me; my quick impetuous temper make me feel so
+unworthy.  I have no one to strengthen me now as when I went to Maple
+Lane School."
+
+"Do the temptations of the world draw your heart away from better
+things, Madeline?"
+
+"I think not; I care for none of them; I want to be a Christian,
+wholly; to live a better, higher, holier life."
+
+"These are the teachings of the Holy Spirit, Madeline; God will
+perfect his own work; only do not resist these influences, they are
+sent from Heaven."
+
+"Lately I wanted your advice so much; I want to do some good at
+Woodcliff; but I did not know how to begin."
+
+"I have heard, Madeline, about your little school; go on, my young
+friend, God will guide and bless you."
+
+"How did you hear, Roland?"
+
+"Did you not write to Helen for books and shoes? she told me all
+about it."
+
+Madeline shrank away at the mention of Helen's name, for she feared
+that she had been too communicative about herself, but it seemed so
+like the old times, that she could not resist the opportunity of
+opening her heart on this one subject.
+
+"Does Helen take any interest in such things?" inquired Madeline.
+
+"Yes, she does now," was the answer; "she is quite a help to me in my
+'Home.'  I wish that you could do something for us, Madeline."
+
+"How can I work for you away off at Woodcliff?"
+
+"Why, you have a very fertile imagination, and used to be famous at
+story-telling--can't you manufacture something for the 'News-boys?'"
+
+"I write stories, Roland! why, I never thought of such a thing--but
+it would be a pleasant thing if I could so write for them, and work
+for you."
+
+"I want you to work for God, Madeline; you have bright talents, my
+little friend;" and Roland seemed to have gone back to the days on
+the sea-shore, and to forget that he was talking to a young lady, the
+heiress of Woodcliff, instead of little Maddy of Maple Lane School.
+
+Madeline smiled, for it made her very happy to feel that she could,
+in any way, be a coworker with Roland, and she really felt as if she
+could make the effort; it was worth trying.
+
+"Must it be very religious, Roland?"
+
+"It must be something to wake up the moral sense of these poor boys,
+and to point them to a holy life."
+
+"Oh! that is too much for me, Roland; I can, perhaps, write a little
+story which may please them, and keep them from bad reading."
+
+"Will you promise me to try, Madeline? send it on to me, and I will
+correct it, and get it ready for the press."
+
+Suddenly Madeline burst out into one of her old fits of laughing; her
+own ringing, silvery laugh.
+
+"I could not help it, Roland; it seems so strange to think of
+Madeline Hamilton turning authoress."
+
+"It does not seem strange to me; I always believed that you were born
+for something very good, Madeline; now I want you to tell me all
+about your little school, and the poor people around Woodcliff."
+
+And Madeline entered into an animated description of all that had
+been attempted; so artless, so naive was her account, so modest, and
+yet so frank, that Roland felt as if he was seated once more by the
+bright child of the sea-shore; but when he remembered that years had
+passed since then, and that the broad gulf of wealth and rank forbade
+the free, charming intercourse of those young days; he checked
+expressions that would have arisen to his lips, and hushed the wild
+beating of his heart, awakening to the sense of danger, that attended
+such an interview as this.
+
+"You promise to write the story, Madeline, remember."
+
+"Yes, I promise anything,"----and she checked the remaining words
+trembling on her lips,--"to you."
+
+They forgot the passing of time in this sweet communion, until
+Charles Davenport came up to Madeline, and laying his hand upon her
+arm, said, haughtily,
+
+"Are you aware, Madeline, how long you have been absent from your
+party?"
+
+"Are you aware that you are interrupting my conversation with an old
+friend?"
+
+"An old friend, indeed!  May I ask the name?"
+
+"Mr. Bruce, Charles Davenport."
+
+"How long since you resigned your post at college, sir?"
+
+"What post, Mr. Davenport?"
+
+"That which you held when I was a member of that college."
+
+Roland did not answer--indignation was too strong; but Madeline did.
+
+"I understand your insinuation, sir; how dare you insult Roland
+Bruce?  You cannot lower him; you have tried it too often, and
+failed."
+
+Poor Madeline! aware of the hot blood that was mounting to her face,
+she covered it with her hands, and murmured,
+
+"Begone, Charles Davenport; you make me forget that I am a woman; I
+am so ashamed, what shall I do?" and she burst into tears of wounded
+modesty.
+
+Charles went off whistling.
+
+"Quite a scene with that upstart fellow!"
+
+Roland stood by Madeline, scarcely knowing what to say.  He was aware
+that her innate sense of propriety had been greatly outraged by the
+words which in her impetuosity she had uttered; he stood silent for
+one minute, then taking her hand, said,
+
+"I understand your generous nature, Madeline; I thank you more than
+words can express."
+
+"I am humbled, mortified at my impetuosity; do not think me destitute
+of modesty, Roland."
+
+"You, Madeline! you know not what you are saying--be satisfied when I
+say that if the expression of the deepest respect that ever filled
+the heart of man can relieve your wounded pride, it is all your own."
+
+"Thank you, Roland; I could not bear to lose your respect; let me
+always deserve that."
+
+Taking her hand, and placing it within his arm, he led her to her
+party, saying,
+
+"Good night, Miss Madeline; I shall see you and Effie to-morrow;" for
+Roland felt that this heart-communion was becoming each moment more
+dangerous.
+
+"Who was that young man?" inquired Mary Trevor; "he is so
+noble-looking, and what a bow! quite the air of a prince!"
+
+"Poor and proud!" retorted Charles Davenport.
+
+"He is an early friend of mine, Mary.  His name is Bruce."
+
+"O yes! he is in Mr. Thornly's office; I have met him there several
+times; he is a young man of fine talents, and quite an admirer of
+Helen Thornly; some say more."
+
+Madeline did not reply, but there was something in her heart that
+night, that made her feel very easy with regard to these rumors; at
+all events, Roland has lost none of his interest in his youthful
+friend, and Madeline dreamed about Woodcliff, and Maple Lane School,
+about the sea-shore, Uncle Peter, and a little shoe.
+
+Next morning, Roland called to see his sister, and was deeply pained
+at the evidences manifest of the affliction hanging over his darling
+Effie.
+
+Folding her in his arms, he pressed upon her sweet face the warm
+kisses of brotherly love.
+
+"Would, darling, that I could shelter you from the woes of life; but
+Effie, this is not our home; we are seeking a better one; and if for
+a little while our Father sees fit to close my sister's eyes, I will
+be eyes and everything else for her."
+
+"I know it, Roland; I am trying to school my heart; I know what is
+coming; each day the light becomes more dim; but the presence of my
+Saviour is always with me; I can still, with the eyes of my soul,
+'Look aloft.'  I have so many blessings, Roland; a pleasant home,
+good kind friends, a dear, dear brother, such a friend in Madeline,
+and the hope of Heaven always so bright."
+
+Roland smoothed the soft brown hair, kissed the pale forehead, and
+lifting up his voice, prayed so fervently for the dear stricken lamb,
+that Effie was comforted.
+
+A few more days, and the young girls returned to Woodcliff, with the
+sad certainty that nothing more could be done for Effie.
+
+Roland saw them safely in the cars, and promised to write frequently
+to his sister.
+
+"Remember your promise," was his last charge to Madeline.
+
+As soon as possible, she made preparations for her new effort;
+carefully concealing from her father and aunt the nature of her
+employment.
+
+She was some time deciding whether her hero should be a good or a bad
+boy; she tried both, but was dissatisfied.  At last, she selected one
+from the very lowest walks of life, and the deepest degradation,
+raised by the power of Christian love to a post of useful, earnest
+piety.
+
+As her story progressed, she read each chapter to Effie, who was
+delighted at the genius manifested by her model friend.
+
+At length it was completed, and sent to Roland; nothing was heard of
+it for some time.  So humble was her sense of its demerits, that
+Madeline looked daily for the return of her manuscript.
+
+Finally, a letter came to Effie, announcing that all arrangements
+were made, the book disposed of, and would be out in about two
+months; but Roland asked what was to be done with the money for the
+manuscript.
+
+"I never thought of that," said the young girl; "but tell Roland,
+Effie, to keep the money for the 'Home.'"
+
+When at last the package came, and Madeline really looked upon one of
+her own productions in print, she could not but smile at her
+temerity; and when in addition to the book, were also some flattering
+notices from the press, she was actually surprised.
+
+Papa was in the library--Madeline knocked at the door with a
+trembling hand; and when her father bade her enter, she stood
+irresolute with the book in her hand, and a shy smile upon her face.
+
+"What is the matter, daughter? you seem agitated."
+
+"I have something to show you, papa."
+
+"Well! what is it?  I am ready."
+
+"This little book, papa."
+
+"Poh! poh! is that all? only a boy's book, Maddy."
+
+"But I know that you'd like to read this one, papa."
+
+"Well, to please my daughter, I'll read it some time; lay it on the
+table."
+
+"But, papa, I want you to read it now; look at the title-page."
+
+"By Madeline."  "Why, what does this mean?"
+
+"It means, dear papa, that this is Mad-cap's book."
+
+"Did you really write this, my child?"
+
+"Yes, I did, papa; I hope it may do some good among the poor boys of
+New York."
+
+"What next, Maddy?" asked her father, with an amused expression of
+countenance.
+
+"I must be busy, and this is such pleasant work; you do not object,
+do you, papa?"
+
+"No, not exactly; but I should not like to have your name handed
+around as an authoress; I have rather a horror of literary ladies in
+general; they are so often odd, and I cannot abide an eccentric
+woman."
+
+"But, dear me, papa, these little unpretending stories are really
+nothing; they never can make me famous; and really I do not wish for
+anything but that they may do some good."
+
+Papa read the little book with a feeling of secret pride, quite
+surprised to see so much talent in his daughter Maddy.  At the
+tea-table, he alluded to the subject.
+
+"Well, what would you think, Matilda, if I should introduce Madeline
+to her aunt, as a young authoress?"
+
+"Think, Lewis Hamilton! why I should say that you are both crazy.
+First, a Lady Bountiful, bringing in all the ragged children of the
+neighborhood, and now a writer of childish books.  I am really
+concerned; if she becomes a 'blue stocking,' I have no hope left; she
+will grow to be a careless, slatternly woman, just like that Miss
+Hodges, that used to go about the country with soiled face and hands,
+carrying her great bag of manuscript under her skirts, fastened
+around her waist, like saddle-bags.  You have no idea, Lewis
+Hamilton, how these pursuits ruin a woman--your indulgence carries
+you much too far."
+
+Mr. Hamilton laughed heartily at such a picture.
+
+"Don't alarm yourself, Matilda; I don't think that Madeline will ever
+reach notoriety like that."
+
+"Why, aunty, I can't see how you could ever dream of such a thing;
+you know bow I despise a sloven; if I thought that I could ever
+become such a disgusting person, I would burn my papers at once, and
+consign my poor little attempts to the oblivion which they may reach
+in another way; but, dear aunt, really in earnest, I promise you to
+wash my face and hands, and comb my hair at least once a day, and not
+to disgrace my name."
+
+Throwing her arms around Aunt Matilda's neck, she kissed her
+affectionately, and said,
+
+"Now confess, aunty, did not you think first, 'And what will Mrs.
+Grundy say?'  Is not that the truth?"  And Maddy was victor as usual
+of the whole ground; father, aunt, and all who had read her little
+book.
+
+"Write to your heart's content, Maddy, only avoid those follies which
+are so often seen."
+
+The little school prospered.  Effie aided as far as her strength
+allowed.  Total blindness had spread its dark mantle over the dear
+girl.
+
+It was truly a mournful sight to behold the desolate orphan, groping
+her way about the house, feeling by the banisters, and along the
+walls; or sitting with folded hands, and meek submissive face,
+generally in Madeline's sitting room.
+
+Her health was evidently on the decline; a feebler step, failing
+appetite, longings for the better land marked her approach to her
+Father's house.
+
+She had learned to knit very expertly, even without eyesight, and it
+was with feelings of humble contentment that she could thus employ
+her fingers, for many a nice pair of warm stockings were thus
+provided for their little pupils.  Seated in Madeline's favorite
+room, she could smell the fragrance of the flowers, hear the warbling
+of birds, and the sweet voice of her dear friend at her daily
+practice.  Her chapter in the Bible was read to her every morning, by
+Madeline, who would then arrange her chair, get Effie's knitting, and
+busy herself about her own employments.
+
+"Will you get me a bunch of heather, Maddy?  I want it near me; it
+was my mother's flower, you know."
+
+"Here it is, Effie;" and placing it in her hands, Madeline kissed the
+sweet pale face, while the blind girl pressed it to her lips with
+sweet memories of the departed.
+
+"Is it a bright morning, Madeline?" asked the orphan.
+
+"Bright as a May morning can be, Effie; the dew is yet on the sweet
+flowers, and all is charming and refreshing."
+
+"I can well afford to be contented with my present blindness,
+Madeline; for I shall soon see the brighter scenes, and pluck the
+flowers of Paradise; will you sing for me that sweet hymn,
+
+  'Thy will be done?'"
+
+and as Madeline poured out the plaintive melody of that touching air,
+Effie leaned back in her chair, with a sweet placid look of perfect
+happiness.
+
+"Madeline, it is a precious experience 'to know no will but his,'
+willing to live, joyful to die; I would live for Roland, but die to
+be with Jesus and my mother; by-the-bye, Madeline, to-morrow is the
+day when we may expect my brother; did he not say on Thursday?"
+
+"He did in his last letter to you, and he is a faithful promiser."
+
+Seated in her accustomed place, Effie listens eagerly for every step,
+for her remaining senses are made more acute by the loss of one; the
+step on the gravelled walk, then on the piazza, the closing of the
+front door, the firm tread along the hall, and the voice so beloved,
+sends a glow of joy over the face of the blind girl, and rising, she
+gropes her way hastily to the entry, where she is soon folded to the
+bosom of her "dear, dear Roland."
+
+He gazes sadly for one moment upon the sightless eyes, the pale
+drooping form, and the hectic bloom on the thin face, and feels that
+Effie is following their mother to the land of the blessed.
+
+But Roland has a cheerful spirit, and nothing but strong comforting
+words pass his lips when alone with his little sister.  He tells her
+of his plans, of his success in business, and his News-boys' Home, of
+incidents connected with the history of several, and amusing accounts
+of their first entrance upon civilized life.
+
+"Would you believe it, Effie, that one poor little fellow did not
+know the use of a staircase, and we found him groping up on his hands
+and feet as he had been accustomed to do by the ladder of his gloomy
+garret.  There was a looking-glass in the matron's room, and the same
+little fellow was pushing through, thinking it was another room."
+
+Effie laughed at these stories, and thought her brother the most
+entertaining company that she had ever met.
+
+"Now, brother, tell me all about Madeline's book; did the boys like
+it?"
+
+"It was the very book for them; they are always asking for 'The Boy
+in Earnest;' each one is to have a copy on Christmas morning."
+
+Turning to Madeline, he continued,
+
+"You must go on with your stories; the publisher was delighted, and
+wants more from the same source.  I have some matter which I can give
+you, and you can weave it into the form of a tale for us--you see
+that my advice was good, Madeline, although you were so afraid to
+try."
+
+"It is always right, Roland; you never advised me for anything but my
+good, but you ought to hear Aunt Matilda make fun of these things;
+she says that I shall forget to wash my face and hands after awhile;
+do you think that there is really any danger of such a calamity?" and
+Madeline smiled archly on her friend.
+
+"Not if I may judge by present appearances;" was the reply, as Roland
+gazed with an admiring look upon the perfect lady-like neatness of
+hair, dress, and manner that always distinguished Madeline.
+
+"I never could tell what you wear, but I think that your aunt need
+not wish anything different."
+
+Madeline blushed at the compliment so unusual from the lips of
+Roland, and made a low mischievous courtesy, with the witchery of
+former times.
+
+"Thank you, kind sir, you had better take care, lest you make me
+vain, instead of a 'blue stocking;' and one is as bad as the other."
+
+"Pure motives, Madeline, will make all right; everything in its
+proper place, but God over all."
+
+A bright blush mantled the young face, and a light beamed from the
+deep blue eyes, illumining the whole countenance, which Madeline did
+not care to be wholly revealed, for she dropped the lids hastily,
+lest the eyes should speak too much.
+
+The Saturday school assembled before Roland returned to New York.
+
+On a visit to Effie, he had the pleasure of being present at one of
+these gatherings.
+
+Madeline was much embarrassed, and could scarcely proceed with her
+work in his presence.
+
+Understanding her feelings, he said, kindly,
+
+"Is there anything that I can do, Miss Madeline?"
+
+"If you will make the opening prayer, I should be pleased.  I use our
+forms of prayer, but I would rather hear yours to-day."
+
+Roland poured forth a simple, heart-felt, earnest prayer, remembering
+all the members of that household, as well as the children kneeling
+around them.  Madeline had never heard him pray, and when he named
+her as the young teacher of the little flock, she felt that more
+earnestness marked those petitions, and deeply was she moved by the
+glowing language of that solemn supplication.
+
+He took Effie's class, and although apparently engrossed by the
+employment of the hour, watched with deep emotion the humble,
+affectionate manner with which Madeline performed her duty towards
+her young pupils.
+
+He did not wonder at their interest, when he glanced at the earnest
+glow of her lovely countenance, nor at the reverence of the young
+faces, when he listened to the simple instruction which she
+endeavored to impart.
+
+At the close, Madeline took her seat at the piano, and played one of
+her childish hymns, in which they all joined; then the bunch of
+flowers, as usual, was the kind dismissal.
+
+"Please, ma'am, granny is very bad with the rheumatiz," said little
+Betsy Smith; "she wants you to come and see her."
+
+"I will come to-morrow, Betsy."
+
+"And please, ma'am," said another, "daddy broke his leg last week;
+won't you stop at our house?"
+
+Madeline blushed as she saw the expression with which Roland regarded
+her, as she answered the humble petitioners.
+
+"God bless you, Miss Madeline, in your good work," said the young
+man, as he warmly pressed her hand; "but this is a novel kind of
+school in a young lady's sitting-room, in the midst of flowers and
+music, and such teachers."
+
+"Our accommodations are not suitable, we know; but we hope for
+something better some of these days."
+
+"The children will be sorry to move away from this," was the quick
+reply.
+
+"But we can teach so few in this room, and we might as well have
+more."
+
+Roland was more pleased than he could express with all that he had
+seen, and when he took his departure, his last words were,
+
+"God bless you, Miss Madeline, and do not forget another book."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+OUT IN THE LIGHT.
+
+It is a bright and beautiful day--Madeline looks tenderly upon the
+drooping invalid reclining upon the couch in her pleasant
+sitting-room.
+
+"Will you walk this morning, Effie? the air is so pure and fresh, it
+will revive you."
+
+She raised her languid head for one moment, and replied,
+
+"I cannot to-day, dear, I am too weak; come read to me some of the
+precious Saviour's words; they will comfort me."
+
+Madeline selected some passages from the fourteenth chapter of John,
+those which have cheered so many weary pilgrims on their journey
+homeward.
+
+"In my Father's house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would
+have told you; I go to prepare a place for you."
+
+"'Many mansions,' dear Madeline, and one is mine, purchased by a
+Saviour's blood, ensured to me by his unfailing truth."
+
+Madeline's eyes filled, and her voice trembled as she continued.
+
+"And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and
+receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also."
+
+"'I will come again,' Maddy; listen to those words; Jesus will come
+again, and where he is, I shall be also; with Jesus, dearest; with my
+mother in Paradise; out in the light; no more blindness, no more
+darkness, but perfect bliss; this is my hope."
+
+Madeline took up the next verse.
+
+"And whither I go ye know, and the way ye know."
+
+"Yes, blessed be God!  I know the way; I have known it so long; my
+mother led my infant steps in that holy way, and I cannot remember
+when I did not love my Saviour.  O, what cause have I to praise my
+God!  While so many are living in sin, dancing merrily in the way to
+death, his grace has saved me, Maddy; if I had been like others, rich
+and healthy, I might have been just as thoughtless, just as vain."
+
+Madeline continued until she came to the verse, "Jesus saith unto
+him, I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no man cometh unto
+the Father but by me."
+
+"He does not leave us, dear, to grope in darkness, when he says,
+'Come unto me;' he leads the way himself; he is the truth; he guides
+us into all truth; he is the life, Maddy, the life of the immortal
+soul; through him we have pardon, access to God, and the hope of
+eternal life sure and stedfast; poor, weak, trembling thing that I
+am, I can cast my little anchor within the vail, and feel it on a
+rock.  I know that this faith must be divine, for I am such a
+fearful, timid being, afraid of so many things around me, and yet not
+afraid to meet a pure and holy God in judgment; this faith must be
+all his work, Maddy."
+
+With a heart full of sympathy, Madeline continued until she reached
+the thirteenth verse.
+
+"And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the
+Father may be glorified in the Son.  If ye shall ask anything in my
+name,  I will do it."
+
+"'If ye shall ask anything in my name;' think of the promise,
+Madeline, 'I will do it.'  I have believed my Saviour, and I have
+asked eternal life for you, and my Saviour will, yes dear, he is
+hearing my prayer, and Roland's too--how often have we prayed
+together for you."
+
+Madeline's head drooped for one moment, and she could scarcely
+proceed; but she answered,
+
+"Do you really believe, Effie, that I shall ever be a Christian? that
+I, proud, self-willed Madeline, shall ever be like the meek and lowly
+Saviour?"
+
+"Yes, dear, if you, like Mary, will sit daily at his feet, he will
+teach you; he will make you like himself; and then, Maddy, after all
+the cares and sorrows of this mortal life are ended, we shall be
+forever with him."
+
+"Does it ever grieve you to think of leaving this world, Effie?"
+asked her friend.
+
+"When I think of Roland all alone," and her lips quivered, "then my
+heart is sad, for he has none but me; but you'll be kind to him,
+Madeline; you will not forget Effie's brother."
+
+"There is Helen Thornly, Effie; while he has her, he will not be
+desolate."
+
+"What do you mean, Madeline?  Helen is only a kind friend to Roland,
+nothing more; she helps him in his missionary work, and that brings
+them much together; there is nobody in the wide world that Roland
+values as he does you, Maddy; next to me, you are his other sister."
+
+"Did he ever tell you so, Effie?"
+
+"Why no, not exactly; but I know Roland; he can never forget the
+kindness of his little sea-shore friend, or the sweet intercourse of
+childish days; he has too much gratitude for that.  But Maddy, there
+is one thing I should like--when I am gone, you can write no more
+letters for poor blind Effie; how he will miss them!  If you would
+only continue to write to him kind, friendly letters, he would not
+miss me then quite so much."
+
+Dear innocent little Effie!
+
+Madeline blushed even in the presence of the blind girl, at such a
+proposition.
+
+"That cannot be, Effie; it would be highly improper for a young lady
+to be writing letters to a gentleman."
+
+"Pardon me, Madeline, I forgot the difference; I see it cannot be
+expected; it would be presumptuous in Roland; but still it would be
+so pleasant; and I don't see why you cannot; just letters of advice,
+Maddy."
+
+"I advise Roland! why Effie, that would be singular indeed, when
+nearly all my life he has been my counsellor."
+
+"This is a strange world, Maddy.  I know that you would like to
+write; and just because people are so foolish, you have to be led by
+their notions; Roland is only like a brother, and I can't see any
+harm in it at all."
+
+"Dear papa would not approve of such a correspondence, Effie; and
+besides, Roland has never asked it himself."
+
+"Some of these days, Madeline, you will be thinking of marriage, or
+some one will think of it for you; I hope that you will ask Roland's
+counsel, then; I know that he would not like you to marry any one who
+is not a Christian."
+
+"Why, Effie, you need not trouble yourself about the matter; I am
+very happy at Woodcliff; I don't know any one that could tempt me
+away from my father; in fact, I don't think about it at all.  Harry
+Castleton has troubled me sometimes with his offers, but really, I
+scarcely give it a thought, and least of all with him."
+
+But Madeline smiled at the idea of asking Roland's advice upon such a
+subject.
+
+"Now, Maddy, sing me one of our sweet hymns."
+
+"What shall it be, dear?"
+
+"'How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord;' that is one of my
+favorites."
+
+And Madeline sang the beautiful words with touching pathos.
+
+Effie was not able to sit up all that day, but continued in the same
+happy, tranquil state of mind.
+
+Time wore away--gradually Effie's strength declined.
+
+One day, being a little stronger, she called Madeline to her side,
+and said,
+
+"Bring me the box, dear, which you will find in my upper drawer," and
+accordingly Madeline obeyed.
+
+"I have none but you, Miss Matilda, and Roland, Maddy, and I want to
+distribute my few trifling keepsakes, before I am too weak.  My
+Bible, my breastpin, with my mother's hair, and my little desk, are
+for Roland; my mourning ring, the gift of Miss Matilda, and the
+likeness, which you remember we had taken in New York, are both for
+you; my hymn-book, my knitting-bag and caba, are for Miss Matilda.  I
+bought a little book for each of the servants, when I was in New
+York; write my name in each.  You may do what you please with my
+clothes; I think, however, it would be well to distribute them among
+our little scholars--now I have nothing more to do with earth, but
+just to wait my Father's will; when he is ready, he will send for me."
+
+There was a picture of the Believer's Vision on the wall opposite to
+where Effie reposed, and as she lay there with folded hands, and
+sweet expression of perfect peace, Madeline had learned to associate
+the two, and ever after, would that touching picture speak of Effie.
+
+"Madeline, I promised Roland that I would send for him when the
+change was near; I think that it will not be many days before I shall
+be out in the blessed light of Heaven.  I asked the Doctor,
+yesterday, and he told me, Maddy, that it might be a very short time,
+or a few days, at farthest; will you send for Roland?  This is
+Thursday, and he could be spared better on Saturday and Sunday."
+
+Madeline sent a few hasty lines, and on Saturday afternoon he
+arrived, pale and sad, for he understood the message.
+
+"You will stay with me, Roland, until all is over?" was the request
+of the dying girl.
+
+"I have made all my arrangements, and will not leave you, darling."
+
+"I want to see Mr. Hamilton alone, Roland; I have something to say to
+him; will you tell him, dear?"
+
+Madeline's father had learned to love the gentle blind girl, and when
+he entered, and saw the gray shadows of death upon her countenance,
+he could scarcely control his feelings.
+
+"I am going to leave you, Mr. Hamilton, and I want to thank you for
+all your kindness to poor blind Effie; I shall not be blind much
+longer, for I am going out of the darkness into the blessed light of
+Heaven; but I want to tell you, that weak and timid as I am, I am not
+afraid to die; my trust is in Jesus, and he never leaves me, nor
+forsakes me.  I love you, Mr. Hamilton, because you are Madeline's
+father, and I want you to be just as happy as I am--warnings have
+come to you, my good, kind friend, for these many months, and I want
+you to promise me, dying Effie, that you will seek the Saviour, ere
+it is forever too late."
+
+Mr. Hamilton bowed his head upon his hands, and replied,
+
+"I often feel, Effie, as if my days would not be very many in this
+world, for I am much worse than Madeline dreams of.  I have not your
+blessed hope, my dear child, but I know that yours is real, is
+divine, and I promise you, Effie, to seek your Saviour; does that
+make you happy?" and Mr. Hamilton stooped down to kiss the pale cheek
+of the child.
+
+"Happy! yes, Mr. Hamilton, I should be perfectly happy, if I could
+hope to meet you all up there," and she pointed upward, while a look
+of seraphic blessedness dwelt upon her face.  "Now, send Miss
+Matilda."
+
+Miss Matilda had avoided being alone with Effie, for she was afraid
+of death.
+
+Thoughts of the dark grave, the judgment and eternity, were all that
+she ever associated with the subject.
+
+She entered the room, and took her seat by the couch.
+
+"You are not so very ill, Effie; I have seen persons weaker than you
+recover."  Effie smiled, as she replied, "I have no fears of death,
+Miss Matilda; my Saviour has taken them all away; I have no desire to
+live, but for Roland's sake; but I sent for you to tell you how
+blessed is the Christian's state.  My trust is all in my Saviour; and
+he will not prove untrue to his word.  You have been very good to
+poor orphan Effie, and I want to see you happy.  I know you are not
+happy now--no one can be who does not love God best of all; you will
+not be offended at me, Miss Matilda, for I shall soon be gone; but I
+want you to seek the Saviour."
+
+"I am a member of the church, Effie; I don't know what you mean,
+exactly."
+
+"I mean, dear Miss Matilda, that I want you to have real heart faith
+in Jesus; faith that makes you love him, trust him, follow him as
+your best friend."
+
+"Effie, I do believe in him, but not as you do."
+
+"That is what I mean, Miss Matilda; I don't mean just to be a member
+of the church, and no more; that is not all; I want you to be a
+member of Christ himself, and that is by faith."
+
+  "'Tis like Heaven below,
+  My Redeemer to know,
+    The angels can do nothing more,
+  Than to sit at his feet
+  And the story repeat,
+    And the dear friend of sinners adore."
+
+
+Miss Matilda sat bathed in tears, for she had a warm affectionate
+heart, and could not but love the little lamb who was pleading so
+sweetly the cause of her Master.
+
+She took the pale and withered hand, and replied, "Effie, there is
+something about this, different from all that I have ever seen; death
+always seemed so terrible to me."
+
+"It is only terrible where sin is not pardoned; 'the sting of death
+is sin.'  Jesus has borne it all for me, and to me there is no sting,
+nor any fear of the grave, because he has lain there, and blessed it,
+Miss Matilda."
+
+"Would that I had such a trust as this," and she kissed the dear
+child, and left the room.  Sweet was the communion between Effie and
+her brother.  Roland's strong faith, and scriptural knowledge made
+him a most valuable treasure to the feeble girl, for as the dying
+hour approached, she had some experience of the conflict between the
+soul and body, and some slight cloud of darkness in her hour of
+weakness; but Roland sat by her, watching each change, praying,
+soothing, repeating words of Scripture, and the hour of temptation
+passed.
+
+"Out in the light, dear brother; so soon at home with Jesus.  Read
+from the Revelations, Roland;" and in a deep, rich voice, he read,
+
+"'And there shall be no more curse; but the throne of God and the
+Lamb shall be in it; and his servants shall serve him: And they shall
+see his face; and his name shall be in their foreheads.  And there
+shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of
+the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light; and they shall reign
+forever and ever.'"
+
+"'And there shall be no night there,' Roland, 'but one eternal,
+glorious day;' come, Madeline, one more kiss, one more, Roland," and
+Effie clasped her dying arms around both as she whispered, "Love the
+Saviour, love Roland as I have loved him, Madeline, love each other,
+and we shall meet in Heaven."
+
+They arose from that cold embrace, and as Effie lay back upon her
+pillow, softly, gently the sweet spirit departed; and when Madeline
+saw that she had gone, forgetting all ceremony, she took Roland's
+arm, and led him out into the garden, for Effie had departed in
+Madeline's sitting-room.  He walked mechanically to an arbor, with
+Madeline by his side.  One burst of manly grief rent his bosom, for
+dearly had he loved his gentle sister, and he felt now that he was
+indeed alone.  Almost unconscious of the act, she leaned her head
+upon Roland's shoulder, and whispered,
+
+"Not alone, Roland; I will take Effie's place."
+
+"You cannot, you cannot, Madeline; not Effie's," and ere he was
+aware, he passed his arm around her waist, but as instantly released
+her, as he continued pacing up and down the arbor; "you cannot be my
+sister, Madeline; I must be gone from here, and then I shall indeed
+be all alone."
+
+Madeline scarcely knew what to think of his conduct; if it was
+intended as a casting off her sisterly love, she was indeed mistaken
+in him; but that she could not believe--what then could he mean?
+
+What was Roland's surprise in the evening of Effie's death to be
+called out to see a woman in the entry, and who should present
+herself but Elsie Gibson!  They had not seen her for many months.
+
+"Weel, Roland, ye hae lost anither--what ailed the puir bairn?"
+
+"Consumption at last, Elsie, and she had been blind for months before
+she died."
+
+"She is at rest, Roland--but may I see her remains?"
+
+"Certainly, Elsie," and the brother took the old woman into the room
+where Effie lay.
+
+"Will ye gi' me a lock o' her hair, Roland?  I had a lock o' your
+mother's, and I want this for the same person."
+
+"For whom, Elsie?" was the quick reply.
+
+"For ane that has a right, Roland, ye'll ken some day," and Elsie was
+allowed to cut a lock of fair hair, and folding it carefully in
+paper, she placed it in her pocket.
+
+Roland remained until the day of interment; and accompanied by the
+members of Mr. Hamilton's family, and the children whom she had
+taught, he laid the dear remains by the side of her mother, to await
+the morning of the resurrection.
+
+Nothing further detained him at Woodcliff; indeed, he seemed anxious
+to be gone.
+
+"Thank you, Miss Madeline, for all your kindness and devotion to my
+darling sister," was his last farewell.
+
+"Shall I see you again, Mr. Bruce?" was Madeline's inquiry, for she
+felt an inward conviction that Effie's death had removed the last tie
+that bound him to Woodcliff.
+
+"I may, perhaps, come down to see about the grave, Miss Madeline, but
+the world has claims upon me, and I must fulfil them;" then suddenly
+changing from his cold, constrained manner, to one of deep feeling,
+he seized Madeline's hand, and pressing upon it one long, fond kiss,
+he said,--
+
+"Forgive me, Madeline; it is the first, the last that I shall ever
+press upon that hand.  I have had my warning, and I shall never
+intrude; but you must not forget me, I could not bear it; farewell!
+farewell!" and ere the astonished girl could reply, he was gone--out
+of the door, down the avenue--out of sight!
+
+What could it all mean! sometimes so cold, then so impassioned!  How
+could she account for the conduct so strange!  She was not aware that
+Aunt Matilda had discovered that it was owing to Roland's influence
+that her niece had attempted authorship; nor did she know how much
+alarmed her aunt had been at the apparent intimacy between Roland and
+herself: she had witnessed also the scene in the arbor on the day of
+Effie's death, and resolved to break up the intercourse, if possible;
+accordingly, on the evening after the funeral, Roland was seated
+alone in the parlor, when Miss Hamilton entered.
+
+"We shall miss your dear sister, Mr. Bruce, for she was a sweet,
+gentle girl, and we all loved her, and I suppose that it will be a
+long while ere we shall see you again; for as Effie is gone, there is
+no longer any thing to draw you to Woodcliff.  If circumstances are
+somewhat different, it would give me great pleasure to invite you
+freely to our house, but you know that we must have some regard for
+the opinions of the world, and as Madeline is now a young lady, it
+would be the height of imprudence to encourage such an ill-assorted
+intimacy."
+
+Roland's face flushed crimson--all the fire of his naturally proud
+temper was aroused; he bit his lips, and remained silent for one
+minute, then taking his hat, he simply said,--
+
+"Good-evening, Miss Hamilton, I am sorry to have intruded so long; I
+understand the gulf between Miss Madeline and myself perfectly, you
+have no reason to fear.  I am quite as proud as you."
+
+It was after this interview, that he had taken leave of Madeline.
+She was distressed, but could not understand what all this seeming
+inconsistency of conduct meant.
+
+"Brother, I have been really concerned at the intimacy between
+Madeline and this young man," was the remark of Miss Matilda to Mr.
+Hamilton.  "I have found out the reason why she wrote that book; she
+would never have thought of such a thing, if it had not been for
+Roland Bruce; he put it into her head, and forsooth! she must puzzle
+her brains to publish this book; there is nothing that he has ever
+hinted, that she has not done; and I actually believe that Madeline
+may some day so far forget the dignity of her family, as to stoop to
+such a man as that."
+
+"I have some fears myself, Matilda, for I observed with how much
+deference Madeline listened to all his remarks, and what deep
+sympathy she manifested with his grief; and I do not wonder, for he
+is a most remarkable young man."
+
+"Well, I have put an end to it, brother, without your help.  I just
+hinted to him that as Effie was gone, there would now be nothing to
+call him to Woodcliff; you should have seen the crimson blush
+mantling his whole face, and the proud bearing of the youth, as he
+replied, 'that he should intrude no more.'"
+
+"Does Madeline know any thing about it, Matilda?"
+
+"She does not, for I fear to rouse her spirit."
+
+"And I, too," was her father's reply; "I do not believe that she
+would tolerate this if she knew it."
+
+"She shall never be any the wiser, and Roland is too proud to tell
+her; he walked out of the parlor like a prince."
+
+Madeline had another source of disquietude--her father's health
+seemed rapidly declining, and his spirits very low; so much so, that
+his physician ordered him to Europe, and rapid preparations were to
+be made, in order that they might leave America in the early autumn.
+Mr. Hamilton observed Madeline's great depression, for since Effie's
+death, he had seldom seen her smile; the old joyousness had vanished
+from her face, and the elasticity from her step.  She was very lonely
+without her dear young friend, and the hours spent in her
+sitting-room so much alone, were not calculated to raise her spirits.
+Her walks were equally lonely; still she rambled to the sea-shore,
+and old Peter's cabin.  In a short time, she had placed a simple
+marble slab at the head of Effie's grave, and planted some flowers
+that she had loved around the sacred spot.
+
+One evening she bent her footsteps to the old man's cabin.
+
+"I am glad to see you, Miss Madeline, for Master Roland was here last
+Monday, and left this little note if you should call;" and he handed
+her a small slip of paper, on which was written, "A thousand thanks
+for the sweet memento over my sister's grave; I know whose hand
+placed it there; the one whose friendship has never failed us, and
+who never can be forgotten.  I hear that you are going to Europe; may
+God preserve and bless you with his guiding band and sustaining
+grace, prays now and always, Roland."
+
+Madeline read the little note with tears.
+
+"When was he here, Uncle Peter?" was her first question.
+
+"On Monday last; he came to see about his sister's grave, but found
+everything done before he got here.  You ought to have seen him, Miss
+Madeline, when he came back from the grave; he sat down there,"
+pointing to a broken chair, "and covering his face with his hands, he
+sobbed and wept so bitterly.  When a man cries so hard, I know there
+must be some great sorrow."
+
+"What else did he say, Uncle Peter?"
+
+"He asked about you, Miss Madeline,--how you were, when you were
+here, how you looked, and if you ever spoke of him.  He then asked
+about Mr. Hamilton.  I told him how sick he was; he seemed so very
+sorry, but he did not say one word about Miss Matilda.  I asked him
+if he was not going up to the Hall; but he said, 'No, Effie was gone,
+and there was nothing to call him there now.'  Then he asked when you
+were going to Europe.  I said, 'in about two weeks;' is that correct?"
+
+"Yes, Uncle Peter, if we can get ready for the steamer.  Was that all
+he said?"
+
+"Yes, that was all; and then he went away, and I was so sorry, for he
+seemed so sad and lonely."
+
+Madeline returned with a bowed head to her home; it was as she had
+expected.  Roland could not come to the Hall, now that Effie was gone.
+
+It was a comfort, however, to visit the old man, and Madeline's calls
+were frequent.
+
+One evening, strolling quietly along, her thoughts were dwelling
+sadly on the past, and with dread to the future; she had reached the
+spot where she sat on the day that she had first met Roland.  For one
+minute she stood, and wiped away a silent tear.  Then walking on,
+with her eyes bent upon the beach, she was conscious of nothing
+around her, until she reached the old man's cabin.  What was her
+surprise upon entering to see Roland!
+
+He arose with a constrained manner, and said,
+
+"Miss Madeline, I heard that you were going to Europe, and I felt
+that I must bid you farewell.  I have been here once before, but
+without success--when do you sail?"
+
+"In about a week, Mr. Bruce," was the answer.
+
+"Can I speak to you alone, Miss Hamilton?" and Roland offered his
+arm, and led her to the old rock, where they had so often sat in the
+careless days of childhood.
+
+"You are going to cross the wide ocean, Miss Madeline; will be
+introduced into new scenes, and will be exposed to the blandishments
+of the gay metropolis of England--do not forget your immortality; do
+not forget your early friend.  I know that they will try to banish me
+from your memory; but Madeline, by all the tenderness of childhood's
+days, remember, if not me, remember all that I have told you--you
+cannot know the loneliness which I have suffered ever since Effie's
+death, and I cannot bear to think that you can ever forget me.  I ask
+only your friendship, your prayers."
+
+Madeline's voice trembled as she asked,
+
+"Why is it that you come no more to Woodcliff?  we should be so glad
+to see you."
+
+Roland smiled bitterly, as he replied,
+
+"Perhaps so, Madeline; but I have good reasons; you may know them
+some day.  When you go to England, among the rest of your visits, do
+not forget the benevolent institutions; get all the information that
+you can; and when you return to America, you will be better prepared
+to follow out your plans for good; we shall have the pleasure then of
+knowing that although separated, we are co-workers for the same great
+end."
+
+They continued in such conversation for some time longer; at length
+the shadows of evening warned them that it was time to part.
+
+"Farewell, Madeline!" and Roland seized the little hand extended so
+frankly, pressing it tenderly between both of his own.
+
+"Farewell, Roland; be assured that I shall never forget you, and when
+I say this, I mean all that I say--God bless you, Roland, forever and
+ever; he will bring you back to Woodcliff to bless its people.  I
+have never lost that faith, Roland."
+
+At the end of the lane which led to the shore, they parted; and as
+Madeline walked slowly up the road that led to the gate of her own
+home, turning back, she still saw Roland gazing after her, and waving
+his hand, as she vanished up the avenue.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+SEARCHING FOR SCOTTISH FRIENDS.
+
+"And now for earnest working," thought Roland, as he turned wearily
+away from the one cherished spot; "it is a hard trial to part from
+such a friend, but it is evidently my Father's will, that alone I
+must still pursue my way; I must not indulge in vain regrets, but
+'Looking aloft,' I will endeavor to do whatsoever my hand findeth to
+do with diligence and single-hearted devotion."  Day by day, Roland
+gathered the heavenly manna, and drank of the spiritual rock; thus
+strengthened, he returned with renewed zeal to the duties of his
+daily life.
+
+"Whither so fast, my friend?" cried a familiar voice, as he was
+threading his way along the busy streets of New York.  Turning
+quickly, he perceived his college friend, Edmund Norris.  Grasping
+Roland's hand, he said,
+
+"You are the very one that I want to see; I am going to Europe, and
+must have a companion; my mother will hear of none but you, Roland;
+come, old fellow! just say that you will go; I will bear your
+expenses, and we shall have a grand time together."
+
+"How long will you be absent, Edmund?"
+
+"About one year; perhaps longer."
+
+"What is your plan?"
+
+"I propose visiting the continent, England, Scotland, and Ireland; my
+mother is not willing to trust her wild son with any one else; when
+will you give me an answer, Roland?"
+
+"To-morrow, if you will call at my office, No. 12, Beekman street."
+
+This offer seemed most opportune.  He had no domestic tie to keep him
+in America, and here was the opportunity which he had so long
+desired, to visit his native land, and search for his relations, if
+any he had left.
+
+"I will go, Edmund," was his reply; "when shall we sail?"
+
+"In the first steamer; I wish to be there early in the fall."
+
+"I shall be ready, Edmund; I can leave my business in the hands of a
+young man in my office."
+
+The Thornlys were especially sorry to lose the young inmate; and
+Helen's pale cheek and depressed spirits betrayed the interest which
+she felt in the young man.
+
+"You will write to Edgar, Mr. Bruce, I hope," was her last
+injunction.  "I should not be surprised if you should meet Miss
+Hamilton abroad, for they have all gone for her father's health, to
+consult London physicians."
+
+"Farewell, Miss Helen, I shall always be grateful for your kindness."
+
+Roland did not see the tear which trembled on her cheek, as she
+turned away to hide her emotion.
+
+When he reached the vessel, a handsome dressing-case, a sea wrapper,
+slippers, and cap, with the kind regards of Mr. Thornly, awaited him,
+with the label, "A small acknowledgment of benefits conferred upon
+Edgar, by his grateful father."
+
+A swift passage across the Atlantic, in very fine weather, brought
+them to their desired haven.  It had been keenly enjoyed by Roland,
+for the sight of the wide expanse of ocean was exhilarating to a soul
+like his.  When first espying the white cliffs of Dover, he mentally
+asked, "shall I find any kindred in my native land, or am I still to
+wander alone in this wide world?  Be that as my Father wills; I have
+kindred there," looking upward, "they await my coming."
+
+He was so young when he first left Scotland, that much of the
+impression had vanished, and the present, therefore, had all the
+charm of novelty.
+
+Taking a steamer, they crossed the Channel, and after a short journey
+on land, found themselves among the crowds of Paris, wending their
+way alone, in search of lodgings.
+
+Taking rooms together, they soon realized that their surroundings
+were totally different from America; and curiosity for a few days
+kept them busy visiting the lions of the brilliant city, and making
+themselves acquainted with its numerous works of art, and countless
+attractions.
+
+As soon as Edmund became a little domesticated, Roland took tickets
+for their attendance upon a course of scientific lectures, in one of
+the best institutions of the great city.
+
+It was an important advantage to study with such a friend; for
+Roland's comprehensive mind, and clear intellect took in all that was
+demonstrated, and many a maze of perplexed reasoning was made clear
+to Edmund by the keen analysis of Roland's superior powers.
+
+"You must not expect me to visit the vicious amusements of Paris,
+Edmund, my principles forbid this; but, if you must see all, Mr.
+Lisle, a young American, of fine moral character, is here, and will
+escort you; he is a safe guide; I hope that you will see the real
+tendency of sinful pleasures, and learn to value something higher."
+
+"Just let me tell you, Roland, about the opera," said Edmund, one
+night, after his return, "it was splendid; the music was enchanting,
+the Emperor and Empress were both present--what a cold, dead,
+statuesque face he has!  That beautiful woman cannot love him, I am
+sure; you should see Eugenie, she is truly an elegant woman, and her
+dress was perfect.  I don't believe that there is much love for the
+Emperor here, for, although the audience noticed his presence, by a
+'Vive l'Empereur,' there was no heart in it."
+
+"You only saw the outside of the opera, Edmund; you did not follow
+the multitude who crowd gambling saloons, and other vicious places of
+resort after the opera was over.  I should be sorry to see you
+escorted there by any of these gay young Frenchmen; while I feel as
+if I have no right to put actual restrictions upon your liberty, I
+trust that you will promise me one thing, Edmund."
+
+"What is that, Roland?  You are so reasonable with me, so
+considerate, that I think I may safely promise."
+
+"You will find that there is no Sabbath in Paris; that is, no
+Christian Sabbath; people attend to business and seek their pleasure
+more on that day than on any other.  I want you to promise that you
+will attend upon the Evangelical Chapel on Sunday, and avoid the
+places of public amusement."
+
+"I can easily promise that, Roland, for I feel shocked myself at what
+I see."
+
+It was a refreshing season to Roland, when he could turn aside from
+the gay glittering world around him, and worship his God with many of
+the wise and good of all Protestant churches.  Sometimes American
+ministers led the devotions of the day, and he could then join in the
+familiar hymns of his childhood and youth, even in the midst of an
+infidel and dissolute capital.
+
+"Who is that young man?" said Dr. M. to Henry Lisle, "I have observed
+his devotional aspect; I think he is a stranger; I really feel as if
+I should like to make his acquaintance."
+
+"That is a young Scotchman; he has lived most of his life in America,
+and is here with a friend, whose studies he is directing."
+
+"Do you know him, Lisle? if so, introduce me."
+
+After the services, Dr. M. was made acquainted with Roland, and he
+began to feel not quite so much alone in the great world.
+
+At the rooms of Dr. M. he was privileged to meet what was really the
+choice society of Paris.  The good and wise frequently assembled at
+his apartments, and Roland and Edmund were, at all times, welcome
+guests.
+
+Dr. M. had heard from Edmund something of his history, and having
+struggled himself in his early days, deeply sympathized with the
+brave young spirit of Roland Bruce.  Sometimes, they were invited to
+the saloons of French philosophers, but the skeptical spirit,
+everywhere manifested, led Roland to be very careful how he exposed
+his young friend to such influences.
+
+The halls of art were crowded with the finest specimens of
+distinguished artists, both of ancient and modern days; and our young
+friends spent many hours in examining these wondrous triumphs of
+human skill.  The winter passed rapidly; early in the spring, they
+visited Switzerland, explored its natural beauties, passed through
+Germany, sailed upon the Rhine, and recrossing the Channel, found
+themselves in London, at the opening of the gay season.
+
+Roland was pleased at the improvement manifested in Edmund; he was
+learning to distinguish between the good and the vile, and his friend
+felt as if he might trust him while in London, without his
+supervision, which he knew he must do, when he should visit Scotland,
+or else leave him in one of the Scottish cities.  Roland busied
+himself for awhile in seeing the sights of London, and in visiting
+the ragged schools, and other benevolent institutions, by which he
+gained many valuable hints from those so much longer engaged in such
+good works.
+
+Taking up the paper one morning, he read a glaring account of a
+drawing-room, when the Queen of England gave one of her receptions.
+
+A rapturous description was given of the first appearance of Miss
+Hamilton, a young American.  Her beauty, her grace, her manners were
+descanted upon.  The perfect ease of her deportment, as she advanced
+under the escort of the American Minister, was described; and a
+brilliant season prophesied for the young heiress of Woodcliff.  She
+was particularly distinguished by the Queen, who, contrary to her
+general practice, made some especial remarks to her about her
+country.  Madeline's blushing acknowledgment of Her Majesty's notice
+was much enlarged upon.
+
+Roland read the account with mingled feelings; but pain was
+uppermost, for he feared that the very novelty of the scene would
+insensibly draw her heart away from better things.
+
+Edmund having brought letters of introduction was presented on the
+same day.  He came home to Roland in ecstacies of delight.
+
+"You should have seen the blaze of English beauty; but it was nothing
+compared to the young American, Miss Hamilton; theirs was rich,
+blooming, rosy, the glow of full redundant health, and the grace and
+ease of high birth; hers was spiritual! delicate! bewitching! none
+could tell which was the most beautiful; hair, eyes, coloring, or
+expression, but one exquisite combination of all that can attract in
+woman.  Then her ease, her simplicity, her apparent unconsciousness,
+was the theme of every tongue.  Her dress was perfect; her pure white
+lace, with moss-rose buds, and a set of pearls, softened still more
+her delicate beauty; she managed her train, Roland, as if she had
+dwelt in the presence of royalty all her life, stepping backward so
+gracefully, I could imagine the pretty little foot, by the beautiful
+hand and arm.  I declare, Roland, I was proud of our young American.
+I'll warrant she has a royal nature, royal in its highest sense; you
+ought to have seen her, Roland.  I waited until the drawing-room was
+dismissed, and stood at the door, to see her handed to her carriage
+by Lord N----, an elegant young nobleman; did not I envy the fellow,
+Roland?  I'll find out where she stays, and, mark me!  I'll have an
+introduction before the month is over."
+
+Roland was amused at Edmund's enthusiasm, and troubled at the account
+of the impression made in the world of fashion by his peerless young
+friend.
+
+"In the gay metropolis, with all her attractions, will she be kept
+unscathed?" whispered Roland to his heart.  "Looking aloft" for her,
+as well as for himself, he felt the blessedness of remembering her in
+his daily prayers, and never was Madeline forgotten.
+
+Edmund frequently alluded to his want of success in obtaining Miss
+Hamilton's direction, but one day, he came in full of glee: "Lisle is
+here, Roland; he knows Lord N----, and he will inquire of him for
+Miss Hamilton; he has letters of introduction to some of the nobles
+of England, and is as much interested as I in trying to find out
+where she is.  The Duke of D---- will give a ball next week, Lisle is
+invited; he will get an introduction for me before that time, and I
+shall then meet Miss Hamilton."
+
+Edmund seemed possessed with this one idea of obtaining an
+introduction to the reigning star.
+
+"Congratulate me, Roland; the Duke of D---- called yesterday on Lisle
+while I was there; I was introduced as Lisle's young American friend,
+and to-day I have a card for the ball."
+
+Nothing else was talked of but the coming ball.  Edmund's head was
+full of the anticipated pleasure.
+
+The evening came and passed.  Next day, Edmund was in a high state of
+excitement.
+
+"I was introduced, Roland, to Miss Hamilton, but that was all, I
+could get no nearer; she was surrounded by admirers--the Duke of
+D----, and the Earl of M----, Lord B----, and Lord G----, but most of
+all, Lord N----, were devoted in their attentions.  If her young head
+is not turned by all this, I shall proclaim her a wonder.  Lord N----
+is a handsome young nobleman, with that respectful deference to
+ladies, and especially to Miss Hamilton, which I think would
+captivate such a girl."
+
+Roland was compelled to listen silently, for he had not told Edmund
+that he had ever seen Madeline; but every word was painful, for he
+felt the ordeal to be so severe--would she come out unharmed?
+
+"I went last night to the opera, Roland; Miss Hamilton was there,
+attended by her father and Lord N----.  Mr. Hamilton looked so proud
+of his beautiful daughter, and no wonder; nothing to compare to her
+could be seen anywhere last night; eye-glasses were levelled at her
+from all quarters, but I really don't believe that she knew it, and,
+if she did, she certainly did not betray it."
+
+Roland attended weekly upon the services of the Rev. Mr. B----, a
+minister of the establishment, simply on account of the earnest
+spirituality of his preaching.
+
+On the next Sunday, whom should he see advancing up the aisle, in a
+simple modest dress, with a close bonnet and veil, but Madeline,
+attended by her father and aunt.
+
+Several pew-doors were opened, but the sexton led them forward to a
+pew, where sat a young lady and gentleman of high rank.
+
+"That is Lord N----," whispered Edmund to Roland, for he had observed
+the party.
+
+Madeline was earnest, devout, prayerful, and listened to the sermon
+with such an humble, serious manner, as to lead Roland to hope that
+she was yet the simple, earnest child of Woodcliff.  Lord N---- and
+his sister were equally devout, and Roland felt that the deportment
+of the young man in church was just such as was calculated to please
+one like Madeline.
+
+It was pleasant to worship God in the same house with his friend, to
+sing the same hymns, and use the solemn words of the same beautiful
+service.  The service ended, Roland paused a moment at the door,
+hoping to receive one passing glance, but Madeline walked out,
+closely attended by Lord N----, who handed the party to their
+carriage, ere he entered his own; she did not even see Roland.  His
+heart sank, for he could not bear to think himself forgotten.
+
+Edmund still continued to rave about Madeline, telling whenever he
+met her, and running on in the same strain about her beauty.
+
+The next Sunday, Roland bent his steps to the Ragged School in one of
+the lanes of London.
+
+When he entered, he was surprised to see several ladies of rank in
+the audience.  It was a novel sight, for there were large numbers
+present from the very lowest haunts, clothed in rags and filth, even
+up to those who had adopted some of the customs of civilized humanity.
+
+Far up the room, he thought that he saw a familiar form; he advanced,
+and attended by Lord N---- and his sister, sat Madeline, in all the
+sweet simplicity of her girlish days.
+
+She saw Roland, a bright smile welcomed him, and he stepped forward
+extending his hand, his honest, strong, guiding hand; the very touch
+was strength to Madeline.  No more salutations were exchanged until
+the close of the services.
+
+"How came you here, Miss Madeline?" was the first question.
+
+"Did you not tell me to visit such places when I came to London, Mr.
+Bruce?" was the frank, artless answer.
+
+"Thank you, Miss Madeline for the remembrance; have you learned
+anything by your visits?"
+
+"A great deal, for Lord N---- and Lady Alice are both interested in
+these good works, and they have told me the various ways by which
+these poor creatures may be reached."
+
+"London and its gayeties have not then wholly obliterated your
+desires to do good, Miss Madeline."
+
+"By no means, Mr. Bruce," replied Madeline, with one of her brightest
+smiles; "I am only anxious to be once more at Woodcliff to put some
+of my plans into practice."
+
+"How is Mr. Hamilton, Miss Madeline?"
+
+"Rather better; we see that London air agrees with him, and shall,
+therefore, stay longer in England than we had at first intended."
+
+This was a short, but pleasant interview, and Roland felt cheered by
+the few hasty words dropped by Madeline.
+
+Passing through the streets of London one day, he observed Madeline
+in a carriage with the lady whom she styled Lady Alice--it was
+evidently a nobleman's carriage by the coronet on the pannels.  He
+sighed as he thought of the great distance between them socially, but
+could not resist the opportunity of watching the carriage, which
+stopped at the door of a store; the ladies dismounted, and entered
+the store; waiting for them to return to the carriage, Roland
+inquired whose carriage it was, and the direction of their residence.
+Having obtained information, he walked to the spot, and saw the
+elegant mansion where Madeline was staying--what folly! thought he,
+to suppose that she can ever regard me in any other light than an
+humble friend; but it is a pleasure to see her.  He had not stood
+many minutes, ere he perceived a lady's form standing near the
+drawing-room window; she looked out, but not observing Roland, who
+stood concealed behind a tree.
+
+Soon he heard voices, for the window was open; and in a few minutes
+more, the rich melody of Madeline's notes, singing a new and
+brilliant piece.  He stood sorrowfully, for why should he thus haunt
+her dwelling to hang upon a voice, which the friendship of early days
+had given him a right to hear still in the intimate communion of a
+congenial spirit.  It seemed a cold barrier of society which thus
+shut him out, and which he sometimes felt he must dare to batter down.
+
+The season was passing rapidly; and Roland began to prepare for his
+northern tour.  Edmund had concluded to accompany him, for he had not
+made the progress in Madeline's acquaintance that he desired.
+
+His journey through England was truly delightful--like a beautiful
+garden, every corner was highly cultivated; gentlemen's country
+seats, noblemen's splendid palaces and parks, picturesque villages,
+and shady, green lanes everywhere met his eye, and though unlike the
+grand features of American scenery, the panorama had all the charm of
+a lovely picture of domestic ease and elegance, the charm which
+dwells so especially among English homes.  Stopping awhile at the
+Lakes of Westmoreland, they explored its exquisite beauties, so often
+the subject of the painter's pencil, and the poet's pen; and passing
+on, travelled more rapidly, until they reached Edinburgh; visiting
+many spots of historic interest.  Roland stayed a few days, and then
+turned his face towards his native hills, leaving Edmund in
+Edinburgh, until he should hear from him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+MIST ON THE MOUNTAIN.
+
+November, with its chilly winds, finds Roland a traveller in
+Scotland.  He has the directions given by his mother, and has to
+cross a mountain region in a stage, ere he reaches his native
+village.  It is a lonely journey, for he is the only passenger; and a
+heavy Scotch mist is rapidly falling over the dreary landscape;
+distant mountains are first enveloped, then trees and bushes, and
+last even the scattered houses along the road-side, until all is
+darkness and gloom.
+
+He had heard of a Scotch mist, but could never have conceived of
+anything so murky, so dense, and yet behind it all was the bright and
+cheering sun.  So is the experience of human life, often enveloped in
+heavy clouds, shrouded in darkness; yet beyond, God our Father sits
+guiding the changes of our destiny.
+
+Evening approached--no human beings could be seen; and nothing
+disturbed the solitude, save the muffled lowing of the cattle through
+the heavy atmosphere, the bleating of sheep, and the faint tinkling
+of the bells which they wear to direct their guides.
+
+No signs betokened their approach to human habitations; as yet no
+beacon pointed to his native village, and there may be no voice of
+kindred to welcome him to his mother's home.  So impenetrable was the
+darkness, that the stage stopped for the night.  It was a gloomy
+period in Roland's young life--but never did the brave spirit forget
+his motto; "Looking aloft!" through mist, through clouds and
+darkness, he slept the blessed rest of perfect trust.  He woke in the
+morning to see the first bright rays of the rising sun beaming
+through his shutters; opening them, Roland looked out upon a scene of
+surpassing grandeur; lofty mountains in the distance, range after
+range, over which the sun was rising in all his majesty, thick heavy
+woodland wearing the dusky hues of autumn, flocks of sheep under the
+care of their guides, here and there the shepherds' huts, and over
+all, the bright sunlight flooding the landscape with his glory, and
+tinging the clouds of mist with prismatic hues, as they rolled away,
+and mingled with the higher atmosphere, leaving the landscape all
+revealed.
+
+Roland was cheered by the sight.  "So may it be at last with my
+destiny," thought the youth; "if I seek God's glory in all, he will
+fulfil his promises."  After a hearty breakfast of hot bannocks and
+milk, Roland resumed his journey, and referred to the driver for
+information concerning the rest of his journey.
+
+"How far are we from Glendale, driver?"
+
+"Aboot tharty mile or mair, I ken."
+
+"Do you know the family of the Gordons?"
+
+"Do ye mean the family o' the auld minister, David Gordon?"
+
+"The same," was Roland's reply.
+
+"The auld minister bae gane to his rest these mony years; I dinna ken
+how lang syne."
+
+"His son and daughter?" continued Roland.
+
+"Baith gane hame."
+
+Roland bowed his head, for now he felt his desolation.
+
+"Is there no one there, driver, who can give me any information
+concerning them?"
+
+"Yes, there is the auld servant, Jennie Scott; she lives near by the
+auld manse."
+
+In a few hours, Roland found himself approaching his native village;
+he had some remembrance of these familiar scenes; the lake where he
+had rowed in his childhood with Uncle Alick, the manse with its grove
+of old trees, and the kirk not far off, he found were realities that
+had their picture hung up in the halls of memory.
+
+Stopping at the village-inn he sought out the old servant.  Knocking
+at the cottage door, a face somewhat familiar presented itself.  "Is
+this Jennie Scott?" asked Roland.
+
+"It is so, please your honor; will ye sit doon, sir, in my humble
+cottage?"
+
+"Do you remember Roland Bruce, the little son of Mary Gordon, Jennie?"
+
+"Do I remember the bairn that I nursed so lang in these auld arms?
+Can I e'er forget the bonny chiel?  Mine were the first arms that
+held him after he breathed the breath o' life--can ye tell me ony
+thing aboot the lad?"
+
+"He stands before you, Jennie," and Roland seized the hand of his old
+nurse, while she threw herself upon his bosom, and wept for joy.
+
+"It canna' be,--he was sic a wee bairn when I saw him last, and now
+sic a braw an' winsome mon.  Bless the Lord!  O, my soul, for a' his
+guidness to his auld servant."
+
+Roland then told the old woman something of his history, and what had
+brought him to Scotland.
+
+"Ye've came too late, my son; the auld minister has been dead these
+ten years.  O, he greeted sair for ye, my bairn.  Miss Ellen died in
+twa years after that, and Mr. Alick twa years ago; ye've nae mother's
+kin in Scotland, that I ken, Roland."
+
+"And none in America, my old friend, my mother and sister both sleep
+in Jesus, and I am alone in the wide world; but then, God is my
+Father--can I visit the old manse, Jennie?"
+
+"Yes, my bairn, I keep the key, for I gang owre there every few weeks
+to luik after the furniture, and to keep it a' clean."
+
+"How is it, Jennie, that it is not inhabited?"
+
+"Why, Mr. Alick ordered, when he died, that it sud be kept closed for
+three years, and if nane came to claim it then, that it might be
+sold, for it belanged to the auld minister, Roland, and Mr. Alick
+hoped that the right heir might come some day."
+
+Jennie led the way to the old homestead, and as they advanced, tears
+would force themselves into Roland's eyes, as he recognized the
+familiar porch, and one old tree, where he had so often played.  She
+opened the shutters, and let in the light of day.  All was in a state
+of perfect neatness and order.
+
+The family-parlor was so comfortable, from which a glass door opened
+into the minister's study.
+
+How sacred it appeared!  The study-table where he had prepared so
+many sermons for his flock--the old arm-chair where he had sat--the
+couch where he had reclined when weary--the book-case, with its
+shelves of devotional books, and the best authors of the Scottish
+Church; and on the study-table, his old Bible marked from the Old to
+the New Testament by his own venerable hands.  In a table-drawer, lay
+his spectacles, the inkstand that he used, and even the pen with
+which he wrote.
+
+"Look here, Roland! at this carpet," said Jennie, as she pointed to
+the spot so worn by the old man's knees, for he always knelt in one
+particular place.  "This is a sacred room, Roland, an' I hae always
+been sae happy to ken that nae stranger has e'er come in here amang
+the auld minister's books."
+
+From the study, they passed into his mother's room.
+
+There stood the cradle, and the rocking-chair, in which she had sat,
+to nurse her babes.
+
+Jennie took up her apron to wipe her old eyes as she said,--
+
+"How mony times hae I seen Mary Gordon, when she thought naebody saw
+her, weep owre the cradle, as she rocked her babes to sleep; but she
+was a guid woman, Roland, an' a true an' faithful wife.  Is yer
+father living, my son?"
+
+"That is a hard question to answer, Jennie; it has always been said
+that he was lost at sea, but strange things have happened to make me
+sometimes think he may yet be alive."
+
+"He was aye a sad an' gloomy mon, Roland; I sud na wonder if he were
+crazed at last."
+
+"Can you tell me anything about Malcolm Graham, Jennie?  I must see
+him soon."
+
+"He lives aboot twenty miles frae here, up on the side o' the
+mountain; he is called far an' nigh 'guid Uncle Malcolm;' he only
+lives to do guid, Roland; he has charge o' a' your property, an' can
+tell ye a' that ye need."
+
+The place where they stood was full of sad memories, and the longer
+he remained, the more familiar he became.
+
+"Why here, Jennie, is the very wheel-barrow that Uncle Alick brought
+me all the way from Edinburgh; many a time have I filled it with
+pebbles, and emptied them into the lake," and Roland picked up the
+toy, and regarded it tenderly, even as an old friend.
+
+"Let us go now, Jennie, for I must make some preparations to visit
+Uncle Malcolm."
+
+"Ye maun gang amang some o' your grandfather's people first, Roland;
+they wud be sair grieved if ye gang awa' without seeing them."
+
+"I will stay over the Sabbath, Jennie, if you can keep me at your
+little cottage, for I want to go to the old kirk, where my mother
+worshipped God."
+
+The weeds in the little garden around the house, and the neglected
+look of the grounds, spoke volumes to Roland's heart of the dear ones
+who had vanished from the old manse, and of the busy hands now silent
+in the grave.
+
+"What is that, Jennie?" said Roland, as he observed a little mound
+under an old tree, with a piece of board at the head.
+
+"Read the words, Roland, an' ye'll see what lies buried there."
+
+"Here lies old Shep, the faithful dog; for twelve years he served his
+master."
+
+"I remember him, Jennie; many a time has he carried me on his back."
+
+"This auld place is fu' o' death, Roland, but it is just as fu' o'
+hope; for a' wha hae gane before, hae died the death o' the
+righteous; an' they a' sleep in the Lord."
+
+Roland spent the days between this and the Sabbath in rambling about,
+and in company with old Jennie visiting his grandfather's
+parishioners.  They all expressed great joy on seeing the young man,
+and observed universally the likeness to his father.
+
+"But he has nane o' the gloom," said the old sexton; "he has the same
+black hair an' dark e'en, but the look is a' upward an' bright, as if
+he walked wi' his grandfather's God."
+
+On the Sabbath day, in company with old Jennie Scott, he walked up
+the aisle of the old kirk.  She was a proud woman on that day--for
+was not she walking wi' her minister's grandson? the handsomest, the
+noblest, an' the best o' a' the young men around Glencoe?
+
+He sat in his mother's seat, and used the old book which contained
+her name.  On the fly-leaf was written--
+
+"Malcolm Graham, sailed on the first day of March, 1807.  May God be
+with him to bless and keep him."
+
+On another leaf was written--"Mary Gordon, married to Stephen Bruce,
+Oct. 1st, 1811.  May God bless the union with peace."
+
+Roland's tears dropped over these silent memorials, but it was a
+blessed thought that all the cares and trials of that beloved mother
+were over forever; and as he now joined in the psalms which she had
+often sung in the pew of her own kirk, so he hoped in the church
+triumphant to sing with her and Effie the song of Moses and the Lamb.
+
+After the service, he visited the graves of his kindred, and with
+true delicacy, none of the plain Scotch people intruded upon his
+solitude, as he stood in silence around the sacred spot.  "What a
+blessing to have godly ancestors!" thought Roland; "followed all my
+life by earnest prayer, God has shielded and blessed me thus far with
+the knowledge of himself as my reconciled Father in Christ Jesus."
+
+Many were the warm greetings which met him at the church gate; and
+many the blessings that were showered upon him by the people who
+loved the memory of their dear old minister.
+
+"I must go, Jennie," said Roland, when Monday morning came.  "I am
+anxious to find Uncle Malcolm."
+
+"Ye will see me again before ye return to America?"
+
+"O, yes, Jennie; I will be sure to return."
+
+It was a cold, bleak morning, when he started.
+
+"I think we are going to hae a snow-storm, Roland; had ye na better
+wait a day or twa?"
+
+"I think not, Jennie; I can get along very well;" and he would not
+hear of farther delay.
+
+"I ken the signs around these dark mountains, Roland; we shall hae a
+heavy fa' o' snaw before nicht--the stage will only tak' ye within
+three miles o' Malcolm's house, an' it will be a dark journey on foot
+in a snaw-storm."
+
+"God is with me, Jennie; I must go."
+
+"Fare ye weel! my bairn, till we meet again," said the old woman.
+
+Taking up his carpet-bag, and seeing his trunk carefully deposited,
+he started on his journey.
+
+It was a raw, chilly morning; he had provided himself with a tartan
+plaid, and wrapping himself in its heavy folds, he took his seat in
+the stage.  The wind sighed heavily as though a storm was really
+brewing.
+
+"We shall hae to plew through heavy drifts before we reach the end o'
+our journey," said the driver.
+
+As they ascended the road, the animals were well aware of what was
+coming; and the wild mountain birds screamed around them with
+foreboding warnings.
+
+In a short time, the snow commenced falling; at first, skurrying in
+little gusts of driving wind, then more and more thickly, until they
+were in the midst of a heavy mountain storm.
+
+The atmosphere was filled with the flakes, which, driven by fierce
+winds, drifted on the side of the road.
+
+More and more difficult became the travelling; the poor jaded horses
+could scarcely drag the vehicle through the piles of snow.
+
+Stopping for dinner at a road-side inn, the landlord looked out upon
+the storm with a serious countenance.
+
+"It is a pity, young mon, that ye cam' oot in sic a storm; it will be
+fearfu' before nightfa'; perhaps ye had better bide wi' us until the
+mornin' breaks."
+
+"No, I must push on;" for Roland was not one to be daunted by
+difficulties.
+
+"Hae ye ever been oot in a Scotch snaw-storm on the mountains, my
+lad?  Ye dinna' ken what ye hae to encounter."
+
+"I have not," was the reply; "but I shall only have three miles to
+walk, and that will be easier, I think, than riding."
+
+"Walk in sic a storm!  I am sorry for the mon that tries it this dark
+night."
+
+The stage started; the storm increased; it was a weary drag through
+the piled up snow: and yet it was still falling thicker, faster,
+while the wind was raging; frequently, the horses had to pause; and
+it was late, indeed quite night, when they halted at the stopping
+place.
+
+The driver directed Roland how to find the road to Graham Hall;
+indeed, to be sure that he had the right start, he walked with him
+some distance, until he was fairly on the track.
+
+It was up a by-road that he was now walking.  He was directed to go
+straight-forward until he came to a gate, that led directly to
+Malcolm's house, about one mile distant.  It was a weary journey,
+more difficult than he had imagined; the beating of the snow in his
+face, and the tremendous power of the wind against which he was
+struggling, frequently overpowered him; and he had to stand still
+with his back to the storm, to recover himself for fresh efforts; his
+feet were growing benumbed, his mouth stiffened, and the feeling of
+weariness almost compelling him to lie down to sleep, was creeping
+slowly over him.  Still he persevered, and roused all his energies to
+shake off the lethargy.
+
+In his carpet-bag, he remembered a small flask of wine which Jennie
+had thoughtfully placed there; taking a mouthful, he felt revived.
+But he certainly ought to be near the gate; he had walked so long,
+and yet he could find none.  He must be lost--what was now to be
+done?  He stood silent for a minute, prayed for guidance, strained
+eyes and ears for some direction.  At last, he heard the bark of a
+dog; he did not seem very far off.  Roland whistled, and advancing a
+few steps farther, he thought he saw a light, very dim in the midst
+of the falling snow, but still there was really a faint glimmer; he
+tried to follow it, and as he advanced, it became brighter; then he
+felt that he was in the right path to a human habitation.  He
+hallooed, as loud as his failing strength would allow, several times;
+the light moved, another light was visible; it was certainly
+approaching; in a minute, a dog bounded through the drifts, and
+barked loud and long.  "Dinna' be alarmed," cried a man's voice, "he
+is only telling us that he has found ye."  In another second a man
+appeared with a lantern.
+
+"Ye hae been oot in a sair storm, my friend; follow me, an' I will
+bring ye to a safe harbor."
+
+"I am searching for Malcolm Graham," was the reply.
+
+"Hoot awa', mon! ye are far oot o' the way; it is a guid thing that I
+found ye in time."
+
+Taking Roland by the arm, he led him forward through the drifts, to
+the door of his humble cottage, where his good wife stood waiting her
+husband's return.
+
+"Throw me my tartan, wife," cried the man; "here is a lost traveller,
+an' I am ganging to guide him to Graham Hall; gi' the dogs the
+lanterns; come, Jack, come, Joan," continued the man, as he fastened
+the small lanterns with reflectors, around the dogs' necks.  "We are
+safe enow, sir, for these tykes ken every turn o' these mountain
+roads."
+
+They bounded off with a cheery bark, and threading their way
+skilfully by the side of the drifts, our travellers followed the
+lights with quickened pace.
+
+Bright lights beaming from several windows suddenly burst upon them.
+"We are at Graham Hall, sir," said the shepherd; and hastily stepping
+up on the front piazza, he rapped loud with the iron lion's head that
+served for knocker at the great hall door.  The master presented
+himself.  "Why, Sandy Armstrong, what brought ye oot in sic a night
+as this?"
+
+"I hae found a lost traveller searchin' for Graham Hall, sir; an' I
+hae brought him safely to ye; but he is sairly worn oot."
+
+"Come in, sir, and we shall soon see what the warm fires and blankets
+o' Graham Hall can do for ye, my young friend."
+
+"Guid night, sir," said Sandy, and Roland thanked the kind man for
+his safe escort.
+
+"Won't ye tak' some warm negus, Sandys?" said the master.
+
+"Thank ye kindly, sir, but I maun hasten back; the snow is falling
+still heavily."
+
+Roland stood for one minute, in the midst of a large hall, while the
+master removed his tartan, knocked the snow off his boots, and hung
+his cap upon the pegs, where the master's hunting-dress, his
+powder-horn, and game-bag, indicated his love for mountain sports.  A
+set of antlers mounted the hall-door, and some hunting pictures
+adorned the wall.
+
+"Ye are weak and sick, sir," was the kind salutation; "tak' my arm,"
+and Malcolm Graham led Roland into a bright family room, where a
+large wood fire blazed upon the hearth of a Franklin stove--the rich,
+dark carpet, the heavy oak furniture, old fashioned chairs, and
+pictures of Highland scenery gave an air of charming comfort to the
+apartment, which was truly grateful to the sick and jaded traveller.
+
+"Lie down, sir, on the couch;" and Malcolm beat up the soft chintz
+cushions with the tenderness of a woman, as he laid Roland down on
+the comfortable lounge.  Perceiving that Roland made several attempts
+to speak, the master continued,
+
+"Dinna talk, there is plenty o' time for that; I will be back in a
+minute," and speedily returning, he sat down by the side of the young
+man, watching his motions.
+
+"Here, brother, is the negus," said a lady, opening the door
+slightly; and Malcolm handed it to Roland.  The warm drink speedily
+restored vitality to his frame; then taking off his boots, his kind
+host rubbed his feet briskly, dropping cheering words as he performed
+the service.  By this time, Roland was sufficiently recovered to look
+around him; and first he glanced at the tall and noble-looking man
+that waited upon him.  The dark gray eyes expressed a world of
+feeling, and the mouth, though firm, was loving as a woman's.  'Tis
+true that the fine head was partially bald, and the hair that
+remained was silvered with marks of time, but there was that about
+Malcolm Graham that won Roland's heart at once.
+
+"Do you know, sir, whom you are befriending?" was Roland's first
+remark.
+
+"No, sir, a' that I ken is that ye are a stranger, an' I took ye in."
+
+"It is fitting that you should know--my name is Roland Bruce, sir."
+
+Malcolm's color changed, as, seizing the young man's hand, he
+exclaimed: "Mary Gordon's son!  I thank thee, O, my Father!" and
+Malcolm hid his face in his handkerchief to conceal the storm of
+mixed emotions which swept over his countenance, and shook his frame.
+
+"I came from America to search for my relations; but I find none of
+my mother's kindred left.  I am truly alone in the wide world; she
+bade me search for you also."
+
+"Not alone, Roland; Mary's son is my especial care, and my heart
+opens wide to receive ye; come to my arms, my son, and let me press
+my lips upon yer young brow."
+
+For that warm embrace, the friendship of future years was sealed, and
+the two were no more strangers.
+
+Malcolm opened the door and called, "Annie, I hae some one to
+introduce to ye," and his sister, Mrs. Lindsay, entered the room.
+
+"This is Mary Gordon's son, Annie; ye will luve him for my sake."
+
+The lady greeted him warmly.  "Ye are welcome to our fireside,
+Roland; but ye maun be very hungry;" and the good lady hastened away,
+to order a warm supper for the weary guest.
+
+The door opened softly, and a young face peeped shyly in.
+
+"Come in, Annot," said her uncle; and a little fairy of fifteen, with
+a profusion of light, curly hair, and a dancing step, advanced shyly
+to the couch.
+
+"Shake hands wi' Mr. Bruce, Annot; he has come to stay wi' us, my
+luve; he is the chiel o' a vera dear friend of Uncle Malcolm."
+
+"I am glad to see ye, sir; I luve ilka body that Uncle Malcolm loves."
+
+Another applicant for introduction, in the form of a large family dog
+that lay ensconced on a rug by the fire, had long been asserting his
+claims to notice, by repeatedly putting up his shaggy paw, and
+looking up in his master's face, for his share in the ceremonies.
+
+"I maun na' forget auld Lion, Roland; come here, auld fellow!" and
+the dog, wagging his tail, put up his rough paw to salute Roland; at
+the same time, expressing his satisfaction by a low growl, that he
+meant to be musical--at any rate, it expressed good-will.
+
+Soon a neat-looking Highland girl entered, and spreading the table,
+she placed upon it sundry grateful viands.
+
+"Hannah!" said Mrs. Lindsay, "tell Dugald to kindle a fire in the
+minister's room."
+
+"And now, Roland, see if ye can tak' some supper," said the master,
+as he led his young friend to the table.
+
+He ate sparingly of the profusion spread around him, for his appetite
+had not yet returned, but the feeling of perfect comfort was such a
+rest, that it was refreshment enough for Roland, for some hours at
+least.
+
+"We shall not keep ye late to-night, Roland; ye need rest, and,
+to-morrow, ye shall tell me a' your story."
+
+A bell summoned the family for evening worship; two or three Highland
+men and women came in from the kitchen, and took their seats
+reverently with the family.  Annot opened the piano, Malcolm read a
+chapter in the Bible, with some simple comments; Annot played a
+beautiful Psalm, in which all joined heartily; and the master
+concluded the exercises by a solemn, earnest prayer, in which Roland
+was most affectionately remembered.
+
+Taking a light, he said, "Come, Roland, I will tak' ye to yer room;"
+and Malcolm led the way to a bright cheerful chamber, where a glowing
+fire blazed upon the hearth, for the master was a great advocate of
+wood fires.
+
+A warm feather bed, plenty of blankets, with chintz curtains, an easy
+rocking-chair, and writing-table, made up a whole of home comforts,
+such as Roland had never, in all his life, enjoyed before.
+
+Fixing the lamp with old bachelor exactness several times before it
+suited him, Malcolm left the room, saying,
+
+"Is there onything that ye want, Roland? dinna be afraid to ask."
+
+"Nothing, sir; I am perfectly comfortable; good-night, sir."
+
+"Guid-night;" and Malcolm left him to the quiet of his thoughts.
+Having allowed him time for his devotions, and preparations for
+repose, Malcolm entered once more.
+
+"Here is a bowl o' negus, my son, it will na' harm ye after sic a
+freezing as ye hae had;" and Malcolm insisted on his drinking down
+the whole.
+
+"Now, guid-night, Roland;" and Malcolm laid his hand in blessing upon
+the young head, as he continued,
+
+"God bless ye, and gi' ye refreshing sleep."
+
+He lay awake some time, for Roland's emotions were of that delicious
+character which none can realize but those who have been thus
+suddenly transported from a scene of danger and suffering to one of
+perfect rest and safety.  The howling of the wind without, and the
+beating of the snowdrifts against the window-panes, were strongly
+contrasted with the light of the glowing fire illumining some
+Scripture pictures on the wall, the warm, soft bed, and the sweet
+atmosphere of Christian love by which he was surrounded.  Truly, "the
+Lord giveth his beloved sleep!" and such a sleep was Roland's.
+
+"We did na' wake ye early, Roland;" said his friend, who came at last
+to see if he was stirring, "for we kenned that ye needed rest; how do
+ye fare this morning?"
+
+"Perfectly well and happy," was the answer.
+
+"Well, I will leave ye now; as soon as ye are ready, come down to the
+breakfast-room."
+
+Roland poured out his heart in earnest, grateful prayer, dressed
+himself, and appeared before the family quite another man.
+
+A smoking breakfast of good, hot coffee, venison, beef-steak, hot
+bannocks, muffins, and boiled eggs awaited him; and, on this
+occasion, he did ample justice to the tempting viands.
+
+"We have delayed worship, this morning, on your account, Roland;" and
+immediately after breakfast, the same company again assembled, the
+same sweet music, Scripture reading, and fervent prayer of the night
+before.
+
+"Come, look out upon the landscape, Roland," said the master, as he
+led the young man into the family parlor, and turned aside the heavy
+curtains that he might see the picture without.
+
+The sun was shining in all his glory upon the landscape--mountains of
+snow were piled up everywhere, glistening in the sunbeams, which were
+reflected in prismatic colors in the icicles pendant from the
+branches of the trees.  Such a scene Roland had never before
+witnessed, and, to his temperament, it was full of exhilaration.
+
+"Now, my son, I am ready for your story;" and Malcolm led the way to
+his own private room, directing that he should not be disturbed that
+morning.
+
+It was a cozy little apartment, with secretary, writing-table,
+book-cases well filled, comfortable chairs, a cushioned lounge, and a
+bright wood fire.
+
+A bust of Sir Walter occupied one niche, and Burns another.  A
+picture of Abbotsford, another of Melrose Abbey, and one of Burns'
+Highland Mary, adorned the walls; and a flute, with piles of music,
+lay upon a stand in the corner of the room.  Horns of deer branched
+over the windows, and several figures of Scottish knights, in bronze,
+adorned the mantel-piece.  Everywhere, the house was furnished with
+the quiet comforts, and even elegancies, of a Scotch gentleman.
+
+Lion was here, of course; for at all times, he was allowed free
+access to Malcolm's apartments, and no more faithful friend ever
+followed the fortunes of a master, than good old Lion.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+GRAHAM HALL.
+
+It was a morning fraught with deep and painful memories, for as
+Roland related the story of his mother's trials, and his own
+struggles with poverty and suffering, Malcolm's manly heart was
+stirred within him; and when he read the manuscript which Mrs. Bruce
+had left, floods of memory overpowered him for one moment, for it
+took him back so painfully to the days of his youth.
+
+"But she is at rest noo, Roland; there ne'er was a purer, holier
+heart in the form o' woman, than that which beat in the bosom o' Mary
+Gordon.  I should hae made her happy, Roland, but God willed it
+otherwise, an' I am content; but how is it that she could hae
+suffered so much, with sic friends in Scotland?  Did she na write
+home?"
+
+"She did, frequently, Uncle Malcolm; for the first year we received
+answers; then we were surrounded by mystery; we could not imagine how
+it was, but at last, my mother thought that death must have removed
+her relatives, and she ceased to write."
+
+Malcolm opened a small drawer that was kept carefully locked, and
+lifting an old pocket-book, took out a lock of golden hair, and a
+piece of faded blue ribbon.
+
+"That is to be buried with me in my grave, Roland; it is a' that is
+left to me, on earth, o' Mary Gordon; but I believe that we shall
+meet in Heaven; for, Roland, we were made for each other, and shall
+hold communion yet; here is a perfect likeness o' your mother, when
+she was sweet Mary Gordon;" and Roland gazed upon the picture with
+feelings of loving reverence.
+
+It was a bright young face, with deep blue eyes, and a profusion of
+light curly hair; innocence marked its general expression, but in the
+eyes there was a look of high and holy inspiration, such as she never
+lost.
+
+"If ye should outlive me, Roland, that is yours; your name shall be
+placed upon the back; would that I could hae kenned my boy in the
+days o' his adversity; and now I hae ane request to make, and it is
+this; ca' me always Uncle Malcolm; would that I were mair to ye."
+
+"That will be very easy, dear Uncle Malcolm; for I feel as if I had
+indeed found not only a friend, but a relative; but it is better that
+I had not known you before; the very discipline of my life has called
+out qualities which prosperity could never have fostered."
+
+"That talisman, Roland, has been your a', it has been the making o'
+Mary Gordon's son.  'Looking aloft!'  O, what blessedness in those
+holy, strengthening words!  It shall be placed upon her miniature,
+Roland."
+
+When Roland related the early struggles of his life in New York, the
+trials at college, the weariness of hope deferred, his "News-Boys'
+Home," Malcolm sat with head bowed upon his hands, and when he had
+finished his recital, he clasped Roland in his arms, and said,--
+
+"Ye are indeed the chiel o' Providence; be my son, Roland, for I love
+ye as my ain."
+
+But little was said concerning his early friend, Madeline, but even
+the few passing words spoke volumes to Malcolm Graham.
+
+Bowing down together before the mercy-seat, Malcolm poured out his
+soul in earnest prayer for the youth kneeling by his side, and Roland
+took up the language of supplication and praise, and from a full
+heart poured out his gratitude.  Arm in arm they left the study, and
+the servants wondered what the master had found in the lost traveller
+of the night before.
+
+"I have some inquiries to make about Aunt Douglass, for I am strongly
+inclined to believe that my father still lives; I think perhaps that
+she may know something of him."
+
+A painful expression passed over Malcolm's face, as he replied,--
+
+"I can direct ye, Roland, but dinna gae yet; stay wi' me a few days;
+I want to tell ye aboot a' my plans, and as soon as the travelling
+will allow us, I hae mickle to show ye o' Highland life."
+
+The next day brought Roland acquainted with Uncle Malcolm's daily
+habits.  A part of each morning was devoted to Annot's studies, a
+part to superintending general business, keeping accounts, and a
+portion to regular systematic reading.
+
+Sometimes Uncle Malcolm indulged in sporting, a part of the
+amusements of Scotch gentlemen.
+
+Friday evening came, and after supper, the master said,
+
+"Dugald, bring in the books an' get ready for the meeting," and the
+old servant soon returned with additional seats, and a large number
+of hymn books.
+
+"We hae a meeting o' my tenants every Friday, Roland; we are vera far
+frae ony kirk, an' I hae to be minister to them, for they can only
+attend the quarterly communions."
+
+Soon the people began to assemble; rough Highlanders, with their
+wives and elder children came flocking in.
+
+Malcolm sat at the head of a long table, and as each one saluted him,
+it was manifest with what feelings of affectionate reverence good
+Uncle Malcolm was regarded by his humble people.  A chapter from the
+Bible with some familiar remarks just to the point for his hearers,
+several beautiful Scotch psalms, in which all joined earnestly, and
+then a prayer from Malcolm, and another from Roland, closed the
+evening.
+
+Several remained behind to ask advice; some about their business,
+their families, their spiritual needs, their cares and sorrows, their
+disputes and difficulties; and the kind words dropped by the good
+steward of his Master's goods, testified to the fidelity with which
+he discharged his holy trust.
+
+Daily did Malcolm and Roland ride around among his humble dependents,
+and a book for one, a tract for another, some pecuniary help for
+others, marked all these visits.
+
+"You see, Roland, that I am pretty busy for an old bachelor; I could
+na' live without employment.  Then we hae some pleasant society here,
+although we live so far apart.  When the gentry visit us, it is to
+stay several days, sometimes weeks at a time, for the latch o' Graham
+Hall is always up."
+
+On Sabbath afternoon, a company of little ones flocked to the Hall,
+and Malcolm, Mrs. Lindsay, and Annot were the teachers on these
+occasions.  It was quite a pleasant treat to Roland to aid in the
+good work.
+
+In the evenings, Annot entertained them with her sweet Scotch songs,
+and Roland frequently accompanied her with his deep, rich voice, and
+Uncle Malcolm with his flute.
+
+Malcolm often wondered what he should do when Roland would leave him,
+for every day he learned to love him, not only for Mary Gordon's, but
+for his own sake.
+
+"We shall hae to ask for your room to-night, Roland," said Mrs.
+Lindsay, "for the minister is coming, and he always occupies that
+room."
+
+"It makes no difference to me, dear Madam; put me anywhere that suits
+you."
+
+The Rev. Mr. Murray was a fine specimen of a Scotch minister, grave,
+earnest, faithful; he was always welcome among his humble mountain
+parishioners, and came quarterly to look after their welfare.
+
+"Are there ony ready for the Lord's supper, Mr. Graham?" inquired the
+minister.
+
+"I think there are four; they will be here next Sabbath, when ye can
+examine them."
+
+There was a large gathering at Graham Hall on that holy day, for
+notice had been given that the minister was coming.
+
+He preached an earnest, faithful sermon, somewhat longer than Roland
+had been accustomed to, for an hour and a half were given up to that
+exercise; long prayers, and long psalms made the occasion tedious to
+one not accustomed to such services, but the people did net complain,
+although it brought their dinner two hours later than on other days.
+
+In the afternoon, the minister examined several candidates for the
+Lord's Supper, which was to be administered on the following Sabbath,
+and paid a just tribute to the fidelity with which they had been
+instructed by the minister's earnest helper.  Mr. Murray stayed all
+night, and gave some wise spiritual advice to Roland before he took
+his departure.
+
+"He seems to be a chiel o' God," said Mr. Murray, "and can come to
+the sacrament, if he wishes, next Sabbath; it must be pleasant to hae
+sic a guest."
+
+"He is a descendant o' the Gordons, Mr. Murray, and a chiel o'
+earnest prayer."
+
+"They were aye a godly race, Mr. Graham, an' mony an ancient martyr
+bears their name."
+
+On the following Sabbath, Malcolm, Roland, Mrs. Lindsay, and Annot
+started at early down in one carriage, and all the servants in a
+large, comfortable wagon; the house was closed for the day, for in
+Scotland these sacrament days occupy the whole Sabbath.
+
+Arrived at the place of concourse, large numbers were seen coming in
+all directions; carriages, wagons, people on horseback and on foot,
+hurried to the service, for as it occurred so seldom, it was a great
+occasion to devout Scotch people.
+
+Owing to the numbers, the services were out of doors; a table was
+spread under large shady trees, and temporary seats provided for the
+occasion.
+
+A long sermon was preached, but full of power; long prayers, but full
+of unction; deep, sonorous, stirring psalms were sung by the great
+multitude, and Roland thought of the songs of the redeemed in the
+Revelations, where the hallelujahs were compared to the voice of many
+waters.  The effect was sublime under these old trees; young men and
+old, mothers, maidens, and little children all joining in the solemn
+chorus, with the heavens for their canopy, and the green sward for
+their carpeted aisles.
+
+  "'Neath cloistered boughs each floral bell that swingeth,
+    And tolls its perfume on the passing air,
+  Makes Sabbath in the fields, and ever ringeth,
+          A call to prayer!
+
+  "Not to the domes where crumbling arch and column,
+    Attest the feebleness of mortal hand;
+  But to that fane, most catholic and solemn,
+          Which God hath planned!
+
+  "To that cathedral, boundless as our wonder,
+    Whose quenchless lamps the sun and moon supply,
+  Its choir, the winds and waves, its organ thunder,
+          Its dome, the sky!"
+
+
+But here was the voice of God's ambassador, and the presence of the
+Holy Ghost, and Roland listened and worshipped with solemn awe in
+nature's grand cathedral.
+
+In the intervals between the services, the people assembled in
+serious groups under the trees to eat their meals, for all who lived
+at a distance had come with the intention to spend the Sabbath.
+
+No lightness was manifest among the crowds, for Scotch people are
+proverbial for their reverence for the Sabbath.  The minister mingled
+occasionally with his people; but none, not even the little children,
+seemed to forget that it was the holy Sabbath.  At the close of the
+solemn day, Malcolm and his family returned to their mountain home,
+doubtless benefitted by the exercises of this holy service.
+
+"We have had a pleasant day, Uncle Malcolm," said Roland, "but would
+it not be better if the services were not quite so long?  I observed
+many old people nodding in the afternoon."
+
+"It would be doubtless better, but the customs of the old Scotch
+church are very hard to remodel.  The good Dr. Chalmers has done much
+in the way of reform, but it has not reached us yet."
+
+"What a noble witness for the truth is that good man!  There is but
+one such man in our age, Uncle Malcolm; at least but one given to an
+especial branch of the Christian church."
+
+"Yes, Roland, the Church of England has her Bickersteth; the Baptist,
+her Robert Hall; the Methodist, her Wesley; and a' seeking one great
+end, the glory of the Saviour, and the spread of his kingdom.  What a
+blessed day that will be, when these sects shall pass away, and we
+shall be truly one in Christ, once more the simple primitive
+Christians of Antioch!"
+
+And thus they fulfilled the blessed command of their Master, talking
+of the things of his kingdom, until like the disciples on their way
+to Emmaus their hearts burned within them with emotions of holy love.
+Where the fountain is full, the streams will gush forth naturally,
+freely, healthfully.
+
+"It is a fine day, Uncle Malcolm," said Roland, on the following
+Monday; "can we go to-day to visit the glen where my martyred
+ancestors lie?"
+
+"I was thinking o' it mysel', Roland; the weather could na' be
+better, hard roads, and clear sharp air--it is a long ride frae'
+here, and we will set out early--hae the carriage ready, Dugald, and
+a basket o' provision; we will gae in aboot an hour."
+
+It was a splendid ride over these mountain roads, winding around in
+their ascent to heights whence there were vistas charming in their
+grandeur even at this season; then descending into rural glens where
+the cottages of the peasantry ever and anon met their view.  "There
+is Castle Kennicott, Roland;" and Malcolm pointed to a miserable
+range of buildings, so dilapidated that his companion smiled at the
+name.
+
+"There lives old Sir Peter Kennicott; he is a specimen o' an auld
+Scottish laird, vera poor, and vera proud; his wife, Lady Catherine,
+and three daughters, make up his household; they visit us two or
+three times a year, and living as they do in the seclusion o' their
+Highland home, ken but little o' the ways o' the rest o' the warld;
+they are vera amusing wi' their quaint auld-fashioned manners; but
+Lady Catherine is a guid woman, and much esteemed."
+
+Beguiling the way with pleasant chat, in a few hours they reached the
+spot they sought for.  Dismounting, they stood around the lowly
+grave--the same ruined chimney, the same grand old trees, the same
+dark and sombre glen, where no human habitation was visible, recalled
+the picture so deeply engraved upon the memory of Roland.
+
+"We stood just here, Uncle Malcolm," (and Roland almost whispered,
+for he felt in the midst of solemn associations,) "when my mother
+told me the story of old David Gordon and the sweet Lilian, and I
+think from that day my childish soul took a great leap in its
+existence, and I never could forget the thoughts which stirred within
+me, as I remembered that my ancestors were among the holy band of
+Christian martyrs."
+
+"It is a great honor, Roland, to be descended frae those who will
+hereafter be kings and priests unto God."
+
+"What a cruel being man must be that can slay such innocence as
+slumbers here!"
+
+"And yet it is frae oot sic dreadful scenes o' bluidshed that great
+principles to bless our race arise; the struggles between right and
+wrong are often ushered in by the gibbet, the stake, or the
+battle-axe."
+
+"O, what a happy time that will be, Uncle Malcolm, when the nations
+shall learn war no more! when man shall love his brother man."
+
+"It is coming, Roland; sure as God's word is true, sic a day will
+dawn upon the earth."
+
+Hours were spent around the humble grave, for both felt the
+inspiration of the scene.
+
+"I hae something mair to show ye, Roland; here is ane o' the caves
+where our fathers used to hide in those dismal days; and mony a time
+in the midst o' baptismal or sacrament seasons in these lonely glens,
+at the sound o' the tramp o' Claverhouse and his troopers, would they
+hae to fly to these damp and gloomy shelters."
+
+"How solemn must have been the worship of these days, Uncle Malcolm;
+ever on the borders of eternity, they must always have sounded like
+funereal hymns in these solitudes!"
+
+"And yet how much we hae read o' their heroic spirit, their brave
+endurance, and their triumph over death!  I can imagine strains o'
+victory always mingling wi' a martyr's hymn."
+
+When they arrived at home, letters from Edmund awaited Roland; he
+seemed to be growing tired of travelling alone.  Uncle Malcolm, with
+his accustomed hospitality, immediately wrote a few lines of cordial
+invitation to Graham Hall.
+
+"Wha' hae we here?" asked Mrs. Lindsay.
+
+Roland looked out, and, lumbering up the road, came a large
+old-fashioned carriage, with two fat, lazy horses.
+
+"It is Sir Peter," continued the lady; and soon the party stopped at
+the door.
+
+"How fares it wi' ye a'?" said the old man, as he stepped slowly from
+the carriage, and warmly shook the master's hand.
+
+Lady Catherine followed, and then the three daughters, with their
+pets--Miss Juliana, with her cat; Miss Winnie, with a fat lap-dog;
+and Miss Jacky, with a large parrot, brought to her from abroad by a
+sailor cousin.  Sundry bandboxes, and a trunk, indicated that they
+meant to stay for some days at least.  The three ladies had all
+passed the hey-day of youth, for the youngest was thirty at least.
+Miss Juliana, the eldest, having passed two seasons at Edinburgh, was
+the only one who pretended to the manners of a lady; she still
+preserved carefully the wardrobe of those youthful days for extra
+occasions, such as a visit to Graham Hall.  On this day, a worn-out
+travelling dress, made in the fashion of twenty years ago, looked
+rather antiquated; but the narrow purse of Kennicott Castle made a
+virtue of necessity.
+
+Sir Peter, clad in the costume of ancient times, with his bob-wig and
+powdered hair, his small clothes, and silver knee and shoe-buckles,
+his three-cornered hat, and silver-headed cane, with a coat whose
+pockets were large enough to hold a change of clothing, presented a
+most grotesque appearance, and really might have been mistaken for a
+person rigged out for a dramatic scene.  Lady Catherine was equally
+antique.  After the ceremony of introduction, they were escorted to
+their rooms; and nothing more was seen of them until dinner-time,
+when their appearance at the table indicated the employment of the
+morning.
+
+Miss Juliana was arrayed in a youthful dress of light blue silk; and,
+as the eldest, wore the old family jewels, which certainly were not
+of the most costly kind.  Her hair was dressed in the most youthful
+style; but artificial rose-buds could not conceal the gray locks, or
+hide the shrivelled cheeks.  She carried a fan, with which she
+performed certain singular manœuvres, which she considered the
+very tip of the haut-ton.
+
+Miss Juliana was the oracle of the family; for had she not been in
+Edinburgh for two seasons? and ought she not to know the fashions of
+high life?
+
+Miss Winnie was fat and coarse, with high cheek bones, large hands
+and feet, freckled skin, and red hair; she certainly did not pretend
+to be the beauty of the family.
+
+Miss Jacky, the "Baby," as they still called her, was considered the
+"beauty."
+
+A small figure, with a profusion of light flaxy hair, tortured into
+curling, light complexion, with high color, unmeaning china-blue
+eyes, and pursed-up little mouth, distinguished her from her sisters.
+
+They were all bent upon Baby's making a great match; therefore, all
+the finery of the past generation, that remained in the old family
+chest, was kept especially for her.  A heavy crimson brocade for
+winter, that stood alone, was made up with low neck and short
+sleeves; and in summer, one light pink taffeta was likewise
+remodelled.  One wreath of roses for her hair, one string of pearls
+for the neck, with ear-rings to match, one pair of soiled kid gloves
+for the hands, and one pair of narrow pointed slippers, made up
+Baby's wardrobe, and this she had worn on her visits to Graham Hall,
+and Douglass Manor, ever since she was eighteen; and now, alas! Baby
+was thirty.
+
+She had sung the same songs, danced the same Scotch reels, said the
+same pretty silly things; charming only to her family, and yet Baby
+was not married.
+
+Sir Peter had long thought that a seat at the head of the table at
+Graham Hall, would be the very thing for Baby, but unfortunately, the
+master did not concur in sentiment.
+
+"Annot, my dear, come sit by me," said the sweet young lady, for she
+knew that Malcolm dearly loved his little niece.  Baby was devoted in
+her attentions to the child, but it all seemed lost upon Malcolm, who
+was busily engaged in talking to Sir Peter about the cattle and the
+sheep during the late snow storm.  "I lost ten o' my best sheep, Mr.
+Graham," remarked the old man.
+
+"I did na lose ane, Sir Peter," was the answer, and Malcolm dropped
+many hints which might have been useful, if the old man had not been
+too indolent to profit by them.
+
+The politeness of the household was much taxed by their efforts to
+entertain their guests; for there were just four subjects of
+conversation for the four ladies.
+
+Lady Catherine discussed household economy; Miss Juliana, her visit
+to Edinburgh, twenty years ago, an unfailing subject; Miss Winnie,
+her pet lap-dog, with all his wonderful tricks; and Baby, "The
+Children of the Abbey," and the "Sorrows of Werter."
+
+It was in vain that Mrs. Lindsay tried to divert the channel of
+conversation to better things; back to the old worn-out sayings and
+doings of their little world they would come.
+
+All the ladies employed themselves in knitting while they talked.
+Lady Catherine knit stockings for the winter; Miss Juliana mitts
+innumerable; Miss Winnie, tippets of all sizes; and Baby tidies and
+mats for parlor and chamber.
+
+Knit! knit! knit! talk! talk! talk!  Truly a visit from Kennicott
+Castle was a trial to Christian patience!  And then, the darling
+pets!  Miss Juliana's pet cat fought with the master's noble dog;
+Miss Winnie's lap-dog tried to tear out the eyes of Annot's little
+kitten; and Baby's parrot screamed night and day, "Polly wants Baby!
+Polly wants Baby!"  Then Miss Juliana's cat must have sweet milk
+three times a day, and the most delicate pieces of meat cut up very
+fine; Miss Winnie's lap-dog must be fed upon cream; and Baby's parrot
+could open her cage-door, and help herself to whatever she liked upon
+the table.  This was great fun to Baby, but disgusting to others, who
+could not bear a dirty parrot walking over the dinner-plates.  Miss
+Juliana played two old marches, Miss Winnie two old pieces, and Baby
+three songs exactly.
+
+They all attended punctually upon the family devotions, and then
+Malcolm could pray that all who knelt around that altar should set
+their affections upon things above, and not on the vain and fleeting
+things of earth; their frivolity pained him, and the good master
+tried many ways to do them good.
+
+He talked to the ladies about schools for the poor children, and
+about comforts for their parents.
+
+"Dear me!" said Miss Juliana, "Mr. Graham you would na' expect us to
+stoop to these wild Highlanders; why! they are na' mair than savages!"
+
+"And sae they will continue, my dear Madam," ("Madam!"  Miss Juliana
+did not like that,) "if you will na' step forward to their help; and
+in sic a lonesome place, I should think it would be pleasant wark."
+
+"Why, Mr. Graham, it would take twa hunters ilka morn to catch the
+wild things; on the tops o' the highest hills, down in the deepest
+glens, hidden amang the steep rocks, we might as well try to tame the
+wild animals as these rough, outlandish children o' the crags."
+
+"Try, Miss Juliana, gi' them something for the body, and, after
+awhile, they will come to ye for something for the mind."
+
+Miss Juliana yawned, "It is sae mickle work, Mr. Graham, for a
+high-born lady; I could na' think of sic a thing."
+
+For two weeks the visitors remained; but no visible progress was made
+by Baby, and the party turned their faces homeward.
+
+"Ye will return our visit soon, Mr. Graham; bring yer young friend
+wi' ye; we canna promise mickle at Kennicott, but we will mak' ye
+welcome."
+
+"Thank ye, Sir Peter, when we hae leisure, we will accept your kind
+invitation."
+
+The old carriage was brought up, Sir Peter and Lady Catherine
+comfortably seated, followed by Miss Juliana and her cat, Tabby; Miss
+Winnie and her dog, Charley; and Baby with her talking Poll,
+screaming, as she went, "Poll wants Baby;" with sundry band-boxes and
+trunks, filled with the old finery, to be packed away for future
+occasions; while the ladies would now assume their tartan plaid and
+woollen hose, until making another visitation.
+
+Mrs. Lindsay gave one long, expressive breath; good Uncle Malcolm
+smiled with a look of relief, and little Annot clapped her hands as
+she hugged up her pet kitten, and said, "Now, tittens! that horrid
+dog is gone, and ye shall hae some peace o' your life."
+
+In a few days, Edmund arrived, and received a hearty welcome from the
+master of Graham Hall.  Soon domesticated, he revelled in the
+comforts of the hospitable mansion; and day after day, seated by the
+blazing fire of the family-room, he would rub his hands with delight,
+exclaiming,
+
+"This is living, Roland!  How shall I ever content myself in that
+Babel of a city after these grand mountains, these noble trees, this
+free life out-of-doors, and this glowing, warm-hearted hospitality
+within!"
+
+"It is a charming home, indeed!" was Roland's reply, "the very
+perfection of that sweet word; though so cold without, one feels all
+the time here in the midst of a warm glow of Christian love, and
+hearty welcome."'
+
+"What a charming piece of simplicity is that dear little Annot,
+Roland!  So fresh! so naive!  After the glitter of New York belles,
+she is really captivating; and then her music--why, she warbles
+sweetly as a mavis."
+
+Roland smiled as he replied, "Where is Miss Hamilton, Edmund?"
+
+"O, she is out of my reach! a bright divinity that I may worship in
+the distance!  But this little Scotch mountain girl! innocent child
+that she is, charms me daily more and more, with her winning ways,
+and her sweet, loving eyes."
+
+"Take care, Edmund, how you allow yourself to become enchanted; for
+you may never see Scotland again."
+
+"That is not so certain, my dear sir, for I have had a taste of
+Highland life that I shall never forget; and this sweet face I must
+see again."
+
+Roland found that he must seek out his aunt; therefore, in a day or
+two, Uncle Malcolm and he sat out for Douglass Manor, leaving Edmund
+behind to seek his own pleasures.  It was a long two-storied stone
+mansion, that had long been in the family, and therefore dignified by
+the name of "The Manor."
+
+Mr. Graham inquired for the mistress; asked into the parlor, they
+awaited her arrival.
+
+In a few minutes, a tall lady, with pleasing aspect, and dignified
+address, entered the parlor.
+
+"Ye are welcome, Mr. Graham; it is a long time syne I hae had this
+honor."
+
+"I cam' to introduce a family connexion, Mrs. Douglass."
+
+The lady looked earnestly at Roland, a change passed over her
+countenance, as she advanced towards the young man, and taking his
+hand, she said,--
+
+"I dinna ken what to think, but surely ye are vera like my brother
+Stephen, lost so lang ago."
+
+Malcolm had left the room.
+
+"I am Roland Bruce, your brother's son, Aunt Douglass; you are the
+first relative that I have met in Scotland."
+
+She grasped his hand, and drawing him to her, kissed him
+affectionately.
+
+"My dear nephew!  This is joyful indeed!  Nane o' my kindred hae I
+left on earth, but yoursel'!"
+
+Roland then related his story to his aunt; she was deeply moved; as
+soon as he mentioned the name of Elsie Gibson, she exclaimed,
+
+"Is it possible that Elsie is in America?  We missed her years ago,
+but nane could tell whate'er became o' her."
+
+"What relation does she bear to us?" inquired Roland.
+
+"Roland, she luved your father dearly, an' had he married her, he wud
+hae been a happier mon; but he was aye like one crazed on the subject
+o' Mary Gordon."
+
+"My mother made him a good wife, Aunt Douglass; she was most faithful
+and devoted."
+
+"Yes, Roland, I ken a' that to be true; but her heart was na wi' her
+husband."
+
+"It was with no one else, Aunt Douglass; I wish that you could have
+known my dear mother."
+
+At the end of their interview, Mrs. Douglass was convinced that her
+brother was yet alive.
+
+"I will gae wi' ye, Roland, when ye return to America; I maun find my
+brother, for our property is yet unsettled, although my father has
+been dead these four years; ye maun stay wi' me, Roland, it is sic a
+pleasure to see a branch o' my ain hoose," and Aunt Douglass
+affectionately laid her hand upon the young man's shoulder.
+
+"Looking aloft!" thought Roland, "how many of my prayers and hopes
+have been fulfilled!  I will never distrust a gracious God, so true
+to all his promises."
+
+Malcolm left Roland with the promise to come once more to Graham Hall
+ere he left the country.
+
+Mrs. Douglass busied herself in preparing all the documents necessary
+ere she left Scotland, and after having shown her nephew all that was
+interesting around the Manor, she started, with her nephew for
+Malcolm's home.
+
+"Would it not be better, Uncle Malcolm, to settle my mother's estate
+before I leave Scotland?  I should like to dispose of it, for my
+future home will be in America."
+
+"I will attend to all that, Roland; I have taken charge o' a' ever
+syne the death o' your kindred; indeed, it is sold already."
+
+Uncle Malcolm did not then tell Roland that he was himself the
+purchaser, and had given a higher price than any stranger would have
+done.
+
+In a short time, all was arranged; Roland received a handsome price,
+and old Jennie Scott was sorely distressed at the thought of a
+stranger in the old manse.
+
+"Dinna trouble yourself, Jennie," was Malcolm's word of comfort; "it
+will be the manse still, a guid minister shall abide there, and
+Jennie shall be the woman o' a' wark there yet."
+
+She kissed Malcolm's hand,--"Ye're a guid an' faithfu' mon, Mr.
+Graham, an' God will bless ye evermair."
+
+The time of parting had arrived--Roland was grieved to leave the dear
+shelter of Graham Hall, for it was indeed to him a home, and its
+master a kind and generous father.  Mrs. Lindsay, too, had been like
+a dear mother, and little Annot clung around him, and cried at
+parting with "dear Cousin Roland."
+
+Edmund could not leave the dear home-circle of Graham Hall without
+deep regret; and as he bade a sorrowful farewell to artless Annot
+Lindsay, and held her little hand fondly within his own, he whispered,
+
+"I shall come again, Annot, and then we shall have the pleasant walks
+and rides once more."
+
+She dropped her sweet eyes on the ground, then raising them to
+Edmund's face, swimming in tears, she replied,
+
+"I shall miss ye, Mr. Norris, so vera, vera much; but ye'll come
+again, an' I'll learn so mony new songs just for ye, an' nane ither."
+
+Annot stood at the window looking at the carriage as it turned away;
+and ere it vanished out of sight, a familiar face smiled at her from
+the back of the carriage, and a hand waved a last farewell, that she
+knew was Edmund's.
+
+Soon in London, Malcolm took lodgings for himself, Mrs. Douglass, and
+his young friends; and many pleasant visits did they pay together
+among the homes of the destitute; and many useful hints were given by
+the wise and faithful friend to Roland and Edmund.  Riding out one
+day, Mr. Graham perceived a carriage passing close by their side.  It
+contained two ladies, one remarkable for her beauty.  She looked
+startled, blushed, smiled, waved her hand, and was gone.
+
+Roland was deeply agitated,
+
+"Who was that, Roland?" inquired his friend.
+
+"That was Madeline Hamilton, Uncle Malcolm," and Roland dropped his
+eyes beneath the earnest look of his friend.
+
+"Ye never told me that she was in London, Roland."
+
+"No, Uncle Malcolm, I did not."
+
+"And why, my son, may I ask?"
+
+"I am not on terms of intimacy with Miss Hamilton now."
+
+"How is that, Roland?"
+
+"She does not belong to my world, Uncle Malcolm; so her relatives
+think."
+
+Uncle Malcolm bit his lip, as he replied slowly,
+
+"Does Madeline think sae, Roland?"
+
+"I think not; she is simple-hearted, truthful as a child, above all
+that is sordid, or worldly; but they may spoil her here in London."
+
+Malcolm read at once the whole of Roland's secret.
+
+"Ye could keep up intercourse wi' Miss Hamilton if ye please, Roland?"
+
+"I think I could, Uncle Malcolm; but I would not tempt her from the
+path of duty."
+
+Malcolm Graham smiled, a bright and happy smile; for in the future,
+he saw a path so high! so blessed for his dear young protégé.
+"Looking aloft!" in the right sense thought Malcolm, "and God will
+take care o' his interests, for time and eternity."
+
+"Roland, my boy, trust in God; for he will make a' things work
+together for your good.  Seek first the kingdom o' God and his
+righteousness, and a' these things shall be added unto ye; all
+_these_ things, Roland--whatever is for your real good."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+WINGS CLIPPED THAT HAD COMMENCED TO SOAR.
+
+Madeline is in a new atmosphere; silken fetters bind her feet, and
+amid the novelty of scenes so different from those at home, gradually
+the world acquires an ascendancy over her young heart, which almost
+ceases to converse with itself.
+
+Her journal has long been laid aside; but one very rainy day she
+opens its pages, and contrasts her present state with the past.
+Madeline is humbled; taking up her pen, she resumes a record of past
+events and emotions.  She made her entries for only a few weeks after
+her arrival.
+
+"London, May 10th.--What a new world surrounds me!  Ah, so novel, so
+different from New York!  I am in a constant whirl of excitement,
+with scarcely time for thought.  We have brought letters of
+introduction from Mr. Leighton and Mr. Trevor to the American
+minister, which bring us at once within the pale of London life among
+the haut-ton.  Aunt Matilda is delighted; quite in her element; papa
+pleased because we are, but he looks very pale and languid.
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+"Yesterday was the great day; I was presented to the Queen by the
+American minister.  I wanted to see Queen Victoria, because she is a
+rare example of a good wife and mother in a royal circle.  It was a
+magnificent scene; such a crowd of well-developed, rosy young ladies;
+such splendid dressing, high-breeding, and courtly grace, I have
+never before seen!  I understand now something about the rich glow of
+English beauty; but the Queen interested me most.  She is not
+handsome, but there was a benevolent glow upon her face when she
+addressed me personally, and said some kind things about my country.
+I could have kissed her hand, but I suppose that would not have been
+courtly etiquette, and so I had to content myself with performing the
+difficult ceremony of bowing out backwards; I did not fall, and that
+is all I can say about the manner.
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+"I am busy in returning calls, visiting dress-makers, &c., for we are
+invited to a ball at the Duke of D----'s.  I wonder if I ought to go,
+and leave papa; Aunt Matilda insists, and papa wishes it; it will
+take place next week.
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+"Well!  I have been to the grand ball; a great crowd, magnificent
+rooms, superb dressing, a train of admirers, scarcely room to dance,
+but unable to accept all the invitations; introduced to the Earl of
+N----, a refined and courtly English nobleman; his wife, the
+Countess, is peculiarly pleasing; and his daughter, the Lady Alice,
+charming; a sweet, artless English girl, just making her first
+appearance in gay life.  I don't believe that she relishes it much.
+Lord N----, the son, is the most pleasing gentleman that I have yet
+met in London; modest, unassuming, gentlemanly, and intelligent, and
+sufficiently good-looking to captivate the majority of young ladies.
+His attentions are acceptable, because they are so perfectly
+respectful, so unobtrusive.
+
+"This family pleases me more than any I have seen; they must be among
+the best specimens of English nobility.
+
+"Aunt Matilda is so intoxicated, by moving among nobles, that I
+cannot help laughing; and I fear that she will make the impression
+that she is really not accustomed to good society; there is so much
+fuss and folly about her movements.  I ought not to write this of
+Aunt Matilda, for she is so good and kind to me; only too anxious
+about the number of conquests, and I shrewdly suspect that she is
+meditating one herself.
+
+"Dined yesterday at the Earl of N----'s, in company with papa and
+Aunt Matilda; quite a family dinner, as dear papa avoids much
+company.  I think it is a Christian family, for the good earl asked a
+blessing at the table so reverently.  It is the perfection of a
+refined household; all so easy, so quiet, and in such exquisite
+taste; and the conversation was so improving; no frivolity, but a
+high-toned intelligence, that made it really a privilege to be one of
+the party.  I find that they do not mingle much with the gay world,
+but as pilgrims and strangers, they are 'in the world, but not of the
+world.'  I am thankful that we have made such an acquaintance.
+
+"After dinner, Lady Alice led the way to the drawing-room, and, in
+company with her brother, entertained us with some delightful music,
+and showed us some very fine engravings of English scenery.
+
+"I have been to an English opera; the music was fine, the company
+brilliant, and the scene altogether fascinating.  In the course of
+the evening the Queen of England entered; when the whole audience
+arose, and the orchestra played with great spirit 'God save the
+Queen.'  Her Majesty acknowledged the compliment by a gracious bow,
+and a warm, benevolent smile; no wonder that her subjects love her so
+truly.  These late hours are killing to devotion; I come home so
+tired, that my prayers are lifeless and formal.  I wonder if papa is
+lonely when I am away; he says not, for he is very fond of reading.
+I think that he reads the Bible habitually now.  When I ask him
+anything about himself he smiles, and says that 'he will be better
+soon.'
+
+"Lady Alice is very kind; their carriage is always at our disposal;
+she has taken us to Westminster Abbey, St. Paul's, the Parks, the
+Zoological Gardens, the British Museum, and the Picture Galleries; I
+could spend days at the latter.
+
+"My good aunt has taken great pains to let it be known that we are
+really related to the Duke of Hamilton; poh! poh! that is so foolish!
+We are truly altogether American, and what care we for noble birth!
+
+"Last Sunday, in company with Lady Alice, I visited one of the Ragged
+Schools in M---- Lane.  I had no conception before of the place.  A
+very large room, crowded with children; some clad in rags and filth,
+others were civilized; but there was a look of sensuality among them
+that was so revolting.  It was a pleasant sight to see so many of the
+higher classes, filled with the spirit of the loving Master, seeking
+these degraded children.  I was surprised to see the Lady Alice take
+her seat so humbly among a company of such rough, half-clad girls;
+and pleased to see the look of grateful respect that rested upon the
+face of more than one, as they listened to the instructions of their
+gentle teacher.
+
+"'Do you teach here weekly, Lady Alice?' I asked as soon as she had
+done.  'That is my privilege, Miss Hamilton, when I am in London,'
+was the modest reply.
+
+"'Could you not find a position among some not quite so degraded?'
+
+"'Yes; but then so few comparatively are willing to come here; and
+then you know, Miss Hamilton, that our Master did not scorn the
+lowest sinner.'
+
+"I was silent, for Lady Alice had set me to thinking.
+
+"Suddenly, I was surprised by the sight of a familiar form; at first,
+only the back; but I could not be mistaken--he turned, and it was
+indeed Roland Bruce!  How did he ever come here?
+
+"He advanced, and extended his warm, strong hand; the touch was
+magnetic--how it revived the dear old days around Woodcliff!  How
+strong it seemed!  Just like the staff of my childhood; not only the
+staff, but the sceptre to which I willingly bowed.  He inquired how I
+came here, and I told him.
+
+"'Did I not promise you that I would visit such places?'
+
+"He looked so pleased, and then told me why he was in England, and
+that he expected, ere he returned, to visit Scotland.
+
+"The earl's family attend the church under the ministry of the Rev.
+Mr. B----, not for its grandeur, but purely for the simple
+evangelical preaching of its earnest pastor; but my aunt goes with
+the Duke of D---- to a more fashionable church, where the elite
+attend, but where there is little but the form of piety.
+
+"It is a great privilege to attend upon such a ministry as Mr.
+B----'s, for it draws my thoughts away from earth.
+
+The earl's family are all members of the Church of England.  Last
+Sunday, all four partook of the communion.  I felt so lonely, so
+conscience-stricken when they all arose and left me in the pew.
+After church, Lord N---- said to me with such real concern upon his
+fine face--
+
+"'I am sorry, Miss Hamilton, to find that you are not a follower of
+the Redeemer; why is it so?'
+
+"I could not answer for one minute, but at last replied--
+
+"'I ought to be, I know; but I am so unworthy, so worldly!'
+
+"'So am I unworthy, Miss Hamilton; but Jesus is all my righteousness.
+I cannot bear to see you, one so'--and he stopped; 'I cannot bear to
+see you any thing but a Christian.'
+
+"'Thank you, Lord N----; how is it that, surrounded by so much to
+draw the heart from God, your family are all so different from the
+rest of the world?'
+
+"'In the world, but not of the world, Miss Hamilton, is my answer;
+and all the difference consists in this--that by the grace of God
+only, we are what you see.'
+
+"What a lovely specimen of piety in high life is here!  'Tis true,
+that not many of the great ones of the earth are called to be
+children of the kingdom; but there are some.
+
+"Lord N----'s remark has led me back to the days of former
+seriousness.  Am I grieving the Spirit of God by my worldliness?  'Ye
+cannot serve God and mammon' is the Saviour's teaching; may I feel
+its power.
+
+"The earl's family are going down to Parkhurst Manor, their
+country-seat, and have invited us to accompany them.  Aunt Matilda
+would rather stay amid the dissipation of London life; but I am weary
+of it, and so glad to go into the country; and then it will be better
+for papa, dear papa!  I wonder if he is any better.
+
+* * * * * *
+
+"Parkhurst Manor.--What a charming home!  The entrance to the mansion
+is through a splendid park of trees of ancient growth, and the
+grounds most beautifully kept; the smooth green grass, the branching
+elms meeting over the avenue which leads to the house, forming such a
+cool, green arbor; the sporting deer meeting us everywhere, some
+looking at us with a startled look in their soft, brown eyes, and
+others so docile that they walked close by the side of the carriage;
+but the smile of the honest gatekeeper at the Lodge was the best
+welcome, as he opened the gate, taking off his hat, and saying--
+
+"'You are welcome back to the manor, my Lord.'
+
+"'Thank you, James; I hope you are all well at the Lodge.'
+
+"In another minute, two rosy little girls ran across the road, and,
+dropping a courtesy before the carriage, said--
+
+"'Welcome back, my Lady, we are so glad to see you; is Lady Alice
+there?'
+
+"The young lady smiled upon the little things, and replied--
+
+"'Come up to the Hall to-morrow, I have something for you, my little
+girls,' and the carriage drove on.
+
+"The house is a large and elegant mansion; I scarcely know of what
+style of architecture, but much of it is ancient; the wings are of
+more modern style, the windows all opening out on to the lawn.  From
+the second story, verandahs surround the mansion, filled with most
+rare and exquisite flowers.  The grounds are laid out with the utmost
+taste in winding paths; at the back of the house is a calm lake, on
+which float a number of graceful swans; pavilions, rustic seats, and
+rural bridges over several small streams which flow through the
+grounds, and shrubbery of the choicest kind adorn the walks; in fine,
+nothing is wanting to make this another Eden of delight.  I revelled
+in the sights and sounds around me with inexpressible pleasure; but
+the sweetest sight of all was the meeting between the parents and
+their dear children, who came running to greet them; two sons, the
+one nineteen, the other seventeen, with two younger girls, so
+artless! so simple hearted!
+
+"'Dear papa! dear mamma! you have come at last!  Now, it is dear old
+Parkhurst!  You have come to stay, have you not, mamma?' and the
+little Ladies Julia and Mary seized their dear mother's hands, as if
+afraid that she would run away again.  Sweet, precious picture of
+domestic bliss!
+
+"The children were not in the habit of sitting at the table; but this
+was a holiday, and all assembled that evening around the family
+board, as a great treat, in company with their tutor.
+
+"But, although brimful of joy, the little girls knew how to be quiet,
+and contented themselves with looking at their beloved parents and
+dear brother and sister; and the young men joined very modestly, but
+seldom, in the general conversation.  I sat near the little girls,
+and once I heard them whisper to each other about the books which
+mamma had promised, and the dolls from Lady Alice.
+
+"The countess glanced kindly, but reprovingly, at the children, as
+she said--
+
+"'My little girls are forgetting mamma's rules at the table; there
+must be no whispering.'
+
+"'Excuse us, dear mamma,' replied the Lady Julia, 'we were wondering
+about the books and dolls.'
+
+"After supper, a bell summoned us to evening worship in the chapel,
+whither the countess led the way, and the tutor, who is a young
+clergyman, conducted the devotions, while Lady Alice presided at the
+organ.  Thanks for the return of the parents were included in the
+service, and, at the close, the dear children were dismissed with a
+loving kiss from both parents.
+
+"Happy household! trained thus from infancy for Heaven, what a calm
+and holy atmosphere prevails everywhere at Parkhurst!  The echoes of
+sweet Sabbath chimes ever softly ringing, and sanctifying the simpler
+acts of its daily life.  I am so glad to be here; such a contrast to
+many of the gay and worldly families of London, where all seem bent
+upon ignoring entirely their immortality.
+
+"The next morning after our arrival, the family carriage and three
+fine horses were drawn up before the door.
+
+"'We want to show you some of the beauties around Parkhurst,' said
+the earl, 'and concluded that the young people would prefer the
+saddle.  I presume that you ride, Miss Hamilton; we English people
+are famous riders.'
+
+"Lord N----, Lady Alice, and I mounted; papa and Aunt Matilda
+occupied the landau with the earl and countess.  We had a most
+delightful excursion among the green lanes of 'old England,'
+breathing the cool morning air.  It is, indeed, a garden of sweets;
+the high cultivation everywhere, the country residences, the rural
+cottages, all with their flowers and trees, and the reverence with
+which the family of the earl was everywhere greeted, made this ride
+highly gratifying.  I find a most regular, systematic household, the
+heads of the family each having especial hours of retirement; the
+children their periods of study, recreation, and out-door exercise.
+After morning worship, the family scattered to their several
+avocations.
+
+"'You are at home, Miss Hamilton,' said Lady Alice, leading the way
+to the library; 'I read two hours daily, a course laid down by my
+former tutor, and I presume that you would like to do the same.
+Mamma visits the school-room daily, and makes inquiries of the tutor
+about the children, but she does not interfere; she has one in whom
+she places perfect confidence, and she aids, not thwarts, his plans
+for their improvement; the exercises of the school-room are no more
+disturbed than if they were all away at school.  Mamma is too
+sensible for that.'
+
+"We chose our books, took our seats at separate tables, and enjoyed
+two delightfully private hours--'tis true that Lord N---- knocked at
+the door, and just peeped in once.
+
+"'No admission, brother,' said the Lady Alice, with an arch smile;
+'we are very busy now; you know that we all read at this hour; go get
+your books, like a good boy,' and springing from her seat, she opened
+the door wide, threw her arms around her brother's neck, and kissed
+him, saying, 'now go, Alfred.'
+
+"'This is the way she rules me, Miss Hamilton; I dare not disobey my
+precise little sister; so adieu, ladies!'
+
+"Two hours at the piano closed the studies of the Lady Alice.  I
+observed a harp in the drawing-room, and while she was occupied in
+the music-room, I took advantage of the time, to refresh my almost
+forgotten pieces.  I had brought some new music with me, and was glad
+to find that I had so much leisure.
+
+"'I suppose that I may venture to intrude,' said Lord N----, at the
+close of my practice; and another hour was spent in entertaining my
+young host, who is a passionate lover of music, and who accompanied
+me with the flute.
+
+"Out on the verandah, Lady Alice observed, 'There come my little
+girls from the Lodge,' and running to her room, she brought out
+several books, and a new dress for each.  Little Mary and Bessie Bond
+were modest children, and as they dropped a courtesy to their young
+lady, she handed them the gifts which she had brought.
+
+"'Thank you, Lady Alice, you are very good,' said the elder.
+
+"Dinner at five, where a select number of friends joined our party.
+The breakfast costume is simple lawn or muslin wrappers, with a
+pretty cap for the countess; but the dress for dinner was more
+elegant--rich silk dresses, with low neck and short sleeves, hair
+handsomely arranged, with rich head-dresses for the elder ladies,
+simpler for the young, and a moderate addition of fine jewelry.
+
+"There was much more ceremony at this meal, though nothing was
+oppressive; it was felt to be the etiquette of high-bred English
+life.  The conversation was general, improving, entertaining;
+personalities were strictly avoided, and it was evident that the earl
+had gathered around him a party of pleasing, intelligent, refined
+English people; even two or three frivolous young ladies were held in
+check by the general tone of sentiment.
+
+"We walked in the Park after dinner, and the game-keeper amused us
+highly by a summons to his feathered charge.  Making a certain call,
+in a moment crowds of rooks were seen emerging from their own
+domicile, which was quite a large building for birds only.  They
+clustered around him, on his head, his shoulders, his hands, and
+wherever they could obtain a footing, while crowds congregated around
+his feet, making their own peculiarly coarse, unpleasant cawing;
+indeed, there seemed to be quite a familiar intimacy between him and
+his dark-feathered favorites.
+
+"At another call, the deer came bounding towards him; it was such a
+pretty picture of the power of kindness over the dumb creation; it
+pleased me especially, for I do so love the world of animals.  I
+found that I might pat the gentle fawns, and by a few kind words draw
+them towards me, rubbing their pretty heads against my hands, and
+looking up in my face with their confiding, soft brown eyes.  I
+thought of the time when 'the wolf also shall dwell with the lamb,
+and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the
+young lion, and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead
+them.'  Happy period of millennial blessedness! for then the fiercest
+will have parted with their savage nature.  This day was a pretty
+general picture of the daily life at Parkhurst Manor--so domestic! so
+purifying! so elevating!  Then the sweet worship of the chapel!  By
+what holy ties does this family seem bound together! thus privileged
+to worship God as one family.  It has its soothing effect upon my
+spirit--everything here draws one upward, even surrounded as we are
+by wealth and elegance.  God is in all, and over all.  This is the
+perfection of human life.
+
+* * * * * *
+
+"Yesterday was Sunday at Parkhurst--what a holy day!  The children
+take their meals with us on that day.  No late hours on that sacred
+morning--so quiet, so refreshing was the sweet early morning hour!
+
+"The earl paused after the blessing was asked--
+
+"'Now, my children, for our texts.'  The father and mother reverently
+repeated theirs; Lord N----, and Lady Alice followed, then each of
+the children repeated seriously the Sunday text.  It was a touching
+lesson; this reverence for God's holy word!  This was practical
+obedience to the command which says,
+
+"'And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shall
+talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest
+by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up.'
+
+"As I listened, I could easily understand how much they must learn in
+a whole year.
+
+"'Our children are very anxious to remember all these texts, Miss
+Hamilton,' said the earl; 'they also learn a daily text with their
+instructors, and once a month repeat all to me; all who remember them
+perfectly, are rewarded with a handsome book; you have no idea how
+their library grows in this way, and what a stock of Scripture
+knowledge they obtain.'
+
+"Soon upon the quiet Sabbath air, stole the sweet chimes of the
+village-bells; and when we started, in every direction might be seen
+the villagers in their best attire, crowding to the house of God.  It
+was a pleasant picture to see the dear children of the Manor in their
+simple white dresses, straw-hats, and white ribbon, with the
+daintiest little rosebuds for face trimmings; and the lowly, gentle
+reverence with which they all joined in the service of the Church of
+England, did touch my heart so deeply.  Then so many of the earl's
+tenants were there, and all his domestics excepting such as were
+positively necessary at home, who took their turn at the
+afternoon-service.  The services were delightful in that quiet
+country church, and the sermon earnest, faithful, Christlike.  After
+church, the family of the earl remained a short time; many of the
+parishioners received his friendly greetings, and the kind
+salutations of the good countess; but it was not for this that they
+remained.  The earl took my hand, and led me to that part of the
+church where a marble slab pointed out the final resting-place of the
+earl's family.
+
+"Among other inscriptions, I read: 'Sacred to the memory of Augusta,
+eldest daughter of the Earl and Countess of N----, aged
+eighteen--Asleep in Jesus.'
+
+"The parents stood awhile in silence by the vault; the mother wiped a
+silent tear, and the earl, turning to me said,--
+
+"'My dear Miss Hamilton, I brought you here to impress the lessons of
+mortality; there is much around you, my dear young lady, to draw your
+thoughts to earth; but here you see the young, the gifted, the rich,
+the beautiful must lie down at last in the silent grave; let this
+moderate your estimate of the things of time and sense, and teach you
+to set your young affections chiefly on things above.  The dear one
+who lies there had early learned the lesson; she was a Christian, she
+died in the Lord, and we shall meet her again.'
+
+"We turned away; I can never forget that impressive lesson.  We
+returned with serious thoughts to the carriage, and I felt 'Vanity of
+vanities, all is vanity.'
+
+"The conversation at dinner turned upon the subject of the sermon; it
+was cheerful, subdued, befitting the sacred day.  No Sunday rides, no
+Sunday visiting, but all breathed of holiness and heaven.
+
+"After dinner, we all assembled in the drawing-room, and before
+evening worship, all joined in singing hymns, and other sacred music.
+
+"Lady Alice played, Lord N---- accompanied with the flute; and all,
+old and young, father, mother, tutor, governess, and children joined
+in the sweet hymns.
+
+"As we sang, I thought--what memories are here for these dear
+children!  Even though they may lose these precious parents--will
+they not follow them always 'to keep their souls from blight?'
+
+"Sweet Christian Sabbath!  I never spent such before.
+
+"It had added another step to the family-ladder, and hung another
+link to the golden chain; by one mounting upward, and by the other
+united, to the family of the redeemed in Heaven.  Its holy chants,
+heavenly hymns, and solemn prayer seem here to go with us through the
+cares and trials of the Mondays and Tuesdays of this mortal state;
+until blotting out all earthly days, the earthly and heavenly Sabbath
+glideth into one--one eternal day of holy rest.
+
+"And thus it seems at Parkhurst--the spirit of the Sabbath is with us
+all the week.
+
+"On Monday, I observed an unusual number of persons coming up the
+avenue, generally of the poorer classes.
+
+"Curiosity led me to ask Lady Alice, 'What brings so many to-day.'
+'If you will come with me, I will show you, Miss Hamilton,' and she
+led me to her mother's small room, where, seated at a table, she
+seemed awaiting her visitors.
+
+"On the table stood a writing-desk, and by her side a pocket-book,
+evidently containing money.
+
+"'Sit down, Miss Hamilton,' said the countess.
+
+"Each one had her tale to tell, of sorrow, difficulty, or poverty.
+The countess listened patiently, kindly to all, gave judicious
+Christian advice, and bestowed upon a certain number her weekly
+allowance for the aged, the sick, the struggling with life's cares
+and toils.
+
+"I could not describe the deep respect which I felt for this lady in
+high rank, so surrounded by temptations to selfishness; turning aside
+so humbly, so gently, to listen to the tales of sorrow and privation,
+from the humble poor.  They evidently regarded her as a superior
+being, and I could but say 'What has grace wrought!'
+
+"Upon inquiry, I find that this is the habit of the countess, on
+every Monday morning, to meet the women of the neighborhood, while
+her husband appoints another day to meet the men for the same purpose.
+
+"What an influence must this exert for good!  I find that even the
+children have their Saving Fund from which to draw for their
+charities; for during the interview, Lady Julia entered modestly, and
+said,
+
+"'Dear mamma, here is our money for the little girls,' and the good
+countess smiled upon her daughter, as she replied,
+
+"'Mrs. McBride and Mrs. Rhyle want Sunday dresses for their little
+girls, that they may go to Sunday-school, and this is just enough,
+Julia.'
+
+"The child looked very happy as she tripped away, and Mrs. Rhyle
+said, 'What a sweet young lady she is!'
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+"Yesterday, the good pastor dined with us; the conversation was all
+about plans for good among the people; and it could scarcely be seen
+which was most interested, the good pastor, or the noble earl, in
+their benevolent schemes.
+
+"The wife was an interesting English lady, and much of the side talk
+between the mothers, was about the dear children of the Parsonage;
+for the good countess loved the gentle wife of the humble pastor, and
+knew that this was the subject that pleased her most.
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+"I have such a pleasant room adjoining the Lady Alice, both opening
+to a verandah, where we spend much of our time among the flowers.  My
+room is daily supplied with the most exquisite, which Betty, my
+English maid, brings every morning, with 'the compliments of Lord
+N----.'  She always seems amused; but it is just politeness, and as
+such, I receive them.
+
+"But lately, I have been a little disturbed; Lady Alice sometimes
+throws out gentle hints, and Lord N---- is more than polite, I fear;
+I should be so sorry, for I do esteem him so highly.
+
+"This morning he was passing under the verandah; looking up, he said,
+smiling, 'May I join you, sister?' and receiving permission, he came
+up through a back staircase, and joined us on the verandah.
+
+"'You look very much like Flora, Miss Hamilton, among these flowers;
+they are so bright, and you so much like their queen.'
+
+"This was the first direct compliment that Lord N---- ever paid me,
+and I know that I blushed.  I did not reply, for I am awkward at
+answering compliments.  I simply turned the subject, but he selected
+a moss rose-bud.
+
+"'Will you wear my flower, Miss Hamilton?' he whispered, in a lower
+tone.
+
+"I knew not what to say.
+
+"'With pleasure,' was my reply, 'if you will give the same to Lady
+Alice.'
+
+"'Then you will seem like _sisters_; thank you, Miss Hamilton.'
+
+"I had not perceived the use that he might make of my answer, and I
+was therefore silent.
+
+"Lady Alice was greatly pleased when she placed her bouquet in the
+bosom of her dress; I was rather annoyed when I looked at mine--she
+whispered,
+
+"'Would, dear Madeline, that it were so.'
+
+"I must be circumspect; not for worlds would I wound the hearts of
+these dear friends.
+
+"They are dear as valued friends, for they have been a great blessing
+to me; I must pay them with truth and candor; and yet this passing
+fancy of mine may only be the result of personal vanity; I will
+banish the whole from my memory, ashamed that it ever entered my
+foolish brain.  Aunt Matilda does annoy me, she says so many silly
+things when I am alone with her; if she continues to talk so about
+Lord N----, it will destroy all our friendly intercourse, and I shall
+have to go back to London.  I am so afraid that she will make her
+fancies plain to the family, and that would be more than I could
+endure.
+
+"Yesterday we had company to dinner; the conversation turned upon
+England and America.  One gentleman was evidently prejudiced, and
+spoke disparagingly of our country.  I felt the blood rise to my
+face, for he did not speak the truth.  The good earl came to the
+rescue.
+
+"'Have you ever been in America, Sir Edward, or met many of its
+people?'
+
+"'I have not,' was the reply, with some embarrassment.
+
+"'Then, I think, sir, that you should withhold your judgment with
+regard to our American cousins; some of the most intelligent, frank,
+and gentlemanly persons that I have ever met, have come from that
+country.'
+
+"'I have read travels, my lord, and have received my impressions from
+such writers as Dickens, Mrs. Trollope, &c.'
+
+"'Indeed, Sir Edward, I never was more heartily ashamed than when I
+read Dickens's book; after receiving so many hospitalities, to return
+them with such prejudiced accounts of his sojourn,--I for one do not
+believe them; I have met some of the American clergy, and authors,
+and other distinguished men, and, as a true and loyal Englishman, I
+can say that I have never met more refinement, intelligence, or
+sterling worth, than among the Americans.'
+
+"'Thank you, my lord,' I replied, for I could no longer keep silent;
+'it has always seemed so strange that there should be any rivalries
+between us, for are we not the same people? the same language, the
+same descent, and the same religious faith?  For my part, I am
+willing to acknowledge the great debt we owe to England.  From her,
+we have our finest authors, the very gems of literature; from her,
+the noblest specimens of philanthropy and genius; and from her, our
+Christian faith, and the very formulas in which we worship God.'  I
+blushed, and drew back, for I had not been aware how long a speech I
+was making, until I saw the look of approbation in the earl's
+countenance, and the warm glow upon Lord N----'s.
+
+"'These are noble sentiments, Miss Hamilton,' said the good earl.  'I
+was always sorry for the obstinacy of George the Third; for through
+him we lost those colonies which are now merged into so great a
+nation.'
+
+"'But perhaps,' remarked my father, 'we might not have been what we
+are, if we were still under monarchical rule; our free institutions
+have spurred on enterprise of every kind, and started us as a nation
+far ahead in many things.'
+
+"'I am a true, staunch Englishman,' replied the earl, 'and am not
+willing to own that anything can be better than the mild and
+beneficent rule of our gracious Queen Victoria, under the good
+constitution of old England.  I think you Americans are too fast, and
+are growing to be so large, as almost to become unwieldy; this is
+what I fear for America; her very freedom may be abused.'
+
+"'We are a driving people, my lord, fast in every way; in enterprise,
+in business, in habits of living; in fine, I fear, with you, too
+fast; too reckless in modes of making money; and in many quarters I
+see signs of corruption, which must bring upon us God's judgments; I
+fear, my lord, sometimes for the future of my beloved country, for
+God rules among the nations, as well as among individuals.'
+
+"'May God preserve America to be a bright example of a fine,
+intelligent, and virtuous people,' said the good earl; 'and now, Mr.
+Hamilton, let me give you a toast--
+
+"'America, the stalwart child of Old England--may they go side by
+side, in all that is good, and great, and glorious!'
+
+"And then my father responded,
+
+"'Queen Victoria, and the realm of Great Britain--may she long be
+spared to bless her great dominions.'
+
+"Both toasts were drunk standing.
+
+"Sir Edward sat rather silent for the rest of the meal, and the good
+earl patted me kindly on the head in the drawing-room, and said,
+
+"'Yours is a warm and noble heart, Miss Hamilton; may it find its
+mate in good old England.'
+
+"What does the earl mean?  I hope nothing with reference to his son;
+I should be truly distressed.
+
+"Another bunch of flowers from Lord N----; they are very, very sweet;
+but I laid them by the side of the old withered sea-weed, and their
+charm was gone.
+
+"Ah, Roland! do you cherish the little shoe and the child's picture
+yet!
+
+* * * * * *  *
+
+"My father is worse, I see it daily; he is losing his spirits, and
+the earl seems distressed.
+
+"Am I to lose my father, my dearest earthly tie?  He sent for me
+to-day to come to his room.  He looked so sad, sitting in his large
+easy chair.  He took me on his lap, as when I was wild little
+Mad-cap.  'Madeline, my daughter, I sent for you, because I have much
+to say.  I am not so well, my child; indeed, the signs in my case
+warn me that I have not much longer to live.  I have arranged
+everything for you; you are left independent, with none to trammel
+you, and the power to choose your own guardian.  I can trust you,
+Madeline, in all things; I could have wished to leave you under the
+care of a wise and faithful companion, worthy of my daughter; but
+that is a subject in which I shall not bind you; you are free to
+choose there wholly for yourself.  I shall not live, Madeline, to
+cross the ocean.'  O, how my heart sank!  I bowed my head on his dear
+shoulder, and wept convulsively.  'Do not speak so, dear papa, I
+cannot bear it,' was my answer.
+
+"He smoothed my hair, impressed warm kisses on my cheek, and soothed
+my troubled spirit with kind and loving words.  'And now, Madeline,
+with regard to higher subjects, I would say that my residence in this
+holy family has not been in vain.  I have long been in the habit of
+reading the Scriptures; the good earl has manifested the deepest
+interest in my spiritual welfare; he visits me every evening in my
+room; and it is owing to his influence that I have been led to
+consider the need of preparation for another world.  I have renounced
+all dependence upon my moral life, and look only to the Blessed
+Saviour for salvation in the world to come.  It is my desire,
+Madeline, to testify my faith in His atoning sacrifice next Sunday,
+in the village church, at the table of our Lord; are you not ready,
+my darling, to accompany me in the solemn act?'  I could not answer
+my father, for mingled feelings of joy and sorrow filled my heart;
+floods of happiness at the humble declaration of his faith, and
+unspeakable sorrow at the thought of parting from one so beloved.  I
+promised my dear parent to think upon the subject, for I had lately
+longed for the blessed privilege.
+
+"I sought the room of the countess, and confided to her the subject
+of our conversation.
+
+"'Would you like to see our pastor, Miss Hamilton?' was the kind
+suggestion, and the good lady sent for her faithful guide.
+
+"He was so good, so gentle, so Christ-like that I could easily tell
+him the whole history of my inner life.
+
+"'Are you resting _wholly_, my dear Miss Hamilton, upon the merits of
+the Redeemer for salvation?'
+
+"'Wholly, entirely, my dear sir, from the bottom of my heart I can
+say, "None but Jesus."'
+
+"'Are you willing to devote yourself, soul and body, to your Master's
+service, my child?'
+
+"'That is my desire, and has long been the language of my heart.'
+
+"'Then come, and welcome, to the table of the Lord, my dear child;
+Jesus will not reject such as you.'
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+"Last Sunday, for the first time, by my father's side, I bowed at the
+table of my Lord and Master; received the emblems of His dying love,
+and promised to be His forever.  O, what a precious privilege!  And
+then by the side of my dear father.  Now we are one in the most
+sacred of all bonds.  After church, the countess pressed a warm kiss
+upon my cheek, and said, 'One in Jesus, dear Madeline;' the Lady
+Alice pressed my hand in silence; and Lord N---- looked so very happy.
+
+"Bless God for this sweet sanctuary of a Christian home!  My father
+says that we must go back to London; and when we reach there he will
+tell me why, saying, 'Trust all to God, dear Madeline; whatever he
+wills is right.'  Aunt Matilda is pleased with the idea; for the
+quiet of country life does not suit her.  She is only sorry at
+leaving Lord N----, but says that 'he will soon follow us.'  I wish
+that she would not talk such folly, nor such nonsense about old Lord
+C----, who was really quite devoted to aunty when in London."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+PARTING FROM ENGLISH FRIENDS.
+
+The noble park and green lanes of Parkhurst, with all its elevating
+joys, were soon to be exchanged for private lodgings in a crowded
+city; and Madeline's spirits sank as she contemplated a return to
+London with her beloved parent; for she could no longer blind herself
+to the fact that day by day he was fading from her sight.
+
+Standing alone, on the evening before her departure on the verandah,
+where she had spent so many happy hours, she was indulging in
+mournful reveries; she should probably see this beautiful park, this
+happy home, these charming scenes no more.
+
+While musing thus, Lord N---- passed under the verandah.
+
+"May I come up, Miss Hamilton?"
+
+"If you wish, my Lord; I am alone, and would be glad to see you."
+
+The step of the young man was not gay and joyous as on other days,
+and Madeline perceived that he wore a serious, saddened countenance.
+
+"You leave us, to-morrow, Miss Hamilton; may I ask a place in your
+remembrance?"
+
+"I shall never forget the pleasant hours at Parkhurst, Lord N----, or
+the dear friends that I have made in this happy home."
+
+He was silent for one moment, and then with deeper feeling said,
+
+"But may I not ask a particular place in your remembrance, a nearer,
+dearer than a passing acquaintance, that will be forgotten in a day?"
+
+"I do number you, my lord, among my most valued friends; and I shall
+never forget you personally."
+
+"Ah, Madeline! the memory will not be to you what it will ever be to
+me--the one green spot in life, which I shall cherish so fondly."
+
+She bowed her head, and was silent; for painful emotions were
+stirring in her heart, and tears were crowding beneath the drooping
+eyelids.
+
+"Madeline, we may not meet again; I cannot let you leave us without
+asking, is there any hope that I may obtain the rich love of your
+noble, fresh young heart?"
+
+She turned a frank look upon the young man, while her eyes swam in
+tears, as she replied,
+
+"I cannot deceive you, Lord N----; my deepest respect and warmest
+friendship are yours, but my love I cannot give."
+
+"Why, Madeline? does another possess that which I would make any
+earthly sacrifice to obtain?"
+
+"That is a delicate question, Lord N----; my hand is free, but my
+heart has long been" (and she blushed as she uttered the words)
+"interested in another.  I never knew until to-day how much, how
+deeply.  This is a painful confession, but due to you, my lord; for
+had it not been so, I could not have been insensible to worth like
+yours."
+
+He bowed over the fair young hand extended in friendship, and
+replied--
+
+"May you be happy, Madeline! happy in love as pure, as devoted as
+mine.  I will not say that my heart is broken; that is the language
+of a silly, brainless man; nor will I say that my hopes are crushed,
+for God our Father rules on earth, as well as in Heaven, and his will
+is not what I had hoped.  I submit, I trust, with patience, and
+by-and-bye, I doubt not, will see the reasons why I have been
+disappointed in my first affection."
+
+"He will guide you, I doubt not, my lord, in all the events of life;
+and one so benevolent, so useful, so noble as you, cannot be unhappy;
+for there is too much in this wicked world for Christians to do, to
+spend their lives in vain regrets."
+
+"We are one in Christian hope, Madeline, and that is a comfort; one
+in all schemes of good for our fellow-men."
+
+"Will you pray for me, Lord N----?  Sore trials are before me, and I
+need a Saviour's grace to sustain me in what is surely coming."
+
+"You are before me morning and evening, Madeline; and, though
+separated by the wide ocean, I shall remember you whenever I bend the
+knee to my Father in Heaven."
+
+"We shall be friends, Lord N----," continued Madeline, as she
+extended her hand.
+
+"Yes, Madeline; after a while, true and faithful friends.  I shall
+rejoice when you are happy, and be sad when you are afflicted."
+
+They were not aware of the passage of time until Lady Alice was heard
+calling, "Madeline, where are you?  Papa and mamma sent me to look
+for you.  Come to the drawing-room, we must have some music
+to-night," and she ran hastily up to the verandah, and drew away her
+young friend, saying--
+
+"Brother, I think you are very selfish; we want Madeline to-night, as
+it is her last evening at Parkhurst."
+
+Lord N---- did not answer, and Madeline followed Lady Alice, deeply
+pained at the disappointment which she knew would fill all that
+family circle.
+
+She took her seat at the harp, but begged to be excused from singing,
+for she could scarcely trust her voice to speak.
+
+Lord N---- seated himself at a distant window, shading his eyes with
+his hand.  Lady Alice stood by her side, and Madeline played in her
+most touching style many of her beautiful pieces.
+
+"Some of your sacred music, Miss Hamilton," said the earl, "for that
+suits the tone of our feelings," and she played some exquisite
+variations from the hymn, "I would not live alway."
+
+Every heart was full; silence reigned among them.
+
+"Now, one hymn of hope, Madeline," said the countess, and all the
+group joined in the sweet words--
+
+  "How firm a foundation! ye saints of the Lord!"
+
+and, supported by the others, she too poured forth her wondrous notes
+in strains of melody, while the rich chords of the harp accompanied
+the choir of voices.
+
+They parted sadly that night, and the next morning early, left with
+feelings of deepest sorrow the sweet shelter of Parkhurst Manor.
+
+"We shall see you in London, Madeline," said Lady Alice, "for you
+will need us, dear."
+
+A great change awaited our young friend; quiet lodgings and the rooms
+of an invalid were exchanged for the spacious accommodations and
+elegant ease of the home they had left.  Aunt Matilda was sadly
+discontented, and shrewdly suspected what had taken place at
+Parkhurst.
+
+"Madeline, I have a right to know; I am sure that Lord N---- loves
+you deeply.  Have you rejected him?  Are you such a blind, silly
+girl?"
+
+"Do not ask me, aunt; surely I have a right to some privacy of
+thought and action."
+
+"You cannot deny it; you have rejected one of the first offers in
+Great Britain, and you are just a fool, and nothing else, Madeline
+Hamilton!"
+
+"Would you have me give my hand without my heart, Aunt Matilda?"
+
+"A fiddlestick for a heart, Madeline, when a coronet was laid at your
+feet, to turn away--I know what for; I am so ashamed for you, that I
+cannot utter all I think.  Now I am sure that you love that
+beggar-boy; for nothing else could make you reject such a splendid
+match as the son of an English earl."
+
+"Spare me, dear aunt, and let us talk of something else; when dear
+papa is so ill we have enough to think about."
+
+She could not forgive her niece, and seldom exchanged any thing but
+the merest words necessary for daily duties--cold, constrained, often
+harsh.  She took the first opportunity to acquaint Mr. Hamilton with
+the facts of the case.  He was both surprised and grieved, for he had
+seen with pleasure the growing attachment of the young nobleman.
+
+"Madeline, how is it that you rejected Lord N----?  Few young ladies
+would turn away from such an offer.  I had hoped that his goodness
+and mental worth, not to speak of his lovely family, would have
+certainly won your heart."
+
+"Do not let us talk about it, dear papa, I do not love Lord N---- as
+I should a husband; he is a dear friend, but nothing more."
+
+"I cannot account for it, Madeline, unless your heart is previously
+occupied; if so, should you not tell your father?"
+
+"I am bound to no one, dear papa; just let me wait upon you, and
+administer to your comfort, that is all I ask."
+
+"Remember what I have said, Madeline; it would have made me very
+happy if you could have accepted this young man, not on account of
+his noble birth, or wealth, but just for his modest, manly piety and
+worth.  But in this matter you must choose for yourself, and God will
+bless my daughter."
+
+After a consultation of eminent physicians, the painful alternative
+was proposed to Mr. Hamilton.  When they had gone, he sent for his
+daughter.  "Madeline, you remember that I told you in all things we
+must trust in God; you have now great occasion for that holy
+confidence.  I have never told you until now the nature of my
+disease.  It has been a long and painful process that has brought me
+to the crisis; an operation is necessary, my child;" observing
+Madeline's pallid face, he continued, "do not be alarmed; all is in
+the hands of a wise and gracious God.  It may be successful, or I may
+sink under the operation; but nothing else can be done, and we must
+prepare our minds; it will be speedily over, there will be no very
+long suspense.  Be the end what it may, I trust that I am prepared;
+my hopes are all upon the 'Rock of Ages.'"
+
+"When will it take place, papa?" asked the trembling girl.
+
+"In about ten days," was the answer; "and now, darling, we will talk
+no more about it; to-morrow will be Sunday; you must go to church,
+Madeline, and have prayers offered for me; Aunt Matilda will stay
+with me."
+
+It was a season of sweet and holy refreshment to the young pilgrim,
+for she needed the heavenly manna for her weary, anxious spirit.
+Passing out of church, what was her surprise to see Roland, the
+friend of her youth, standing at the door in company with two
+gentlemen; the one elderly, of noble presence, and the other a young
+gentleman, of whom she had no remembrance.  Roland advanced, extended
+his hand, and said--
+
+"How is it that you are here alone, Miss Hamilton?"
+
+"My father is very ill; my aunt is staying with him, and he sent me
+to have prayers offered for him.  I need them, oh, how much! remember
+me, Mr. Bruce."
+
+Madeline was pale and worn, and Roland was touched by the expression
+of deep sorrow upon her fair young face.  He took the little hand as
+in days of yore, and said, in low tones--
+
+"Do you dream, Miss Hamilton, that I can ever forget you at a throne
+of grace?  You are always remembered there and everywhere."
+
+Roland then hastily introduced his friends, but Uncle Malcolm had
+recognized the young lady that he had once met before in a carriage.
+A glance at the earnest gaze of Roland, and at the downcast blush of
+Madeline, caused a smile to flit across the face of the good man, as
+he remembered the days of his youth, and the sweet blushes of Mary
+Gordon in the first days of their innocent, unhappy love.
+
+"Where are you staying, Mr. Bruce?" asked the young lady; "I may need
+your presence ere long."
+
+Roland gave his address, and they parted.
+
+"Well, Roland Bruce!" said Edmund, "of all the sly fellows that I
+have ever met, you exceed--here have I been prating to you of
+Madeline Hamilton's beauty, and behold, she is an old acquaintance!"
+
+Roland smiled, as he replied, "Yes, I knew her in America, ever since
+she was ten years old; and I am therefore somewhat acquainted with
+the young lady."
+
+"And why, then, do you not visit your old friend?"
+
+Roland's countenance fell, and drawing himself proudly up, he
+replied, "We will change the subject, if you please, Edmund."
+
+When Madeline returned, she sought her father's room.
+
+"Papa, I met Roland Bruce, to-day, at church; he seemed so concerned
+to hear that you were sick."
+
+"What is he doing in London, Madeline?"
+
+"He is in attendance upon a young man whose studies he is directing."
+
+"I should like to see him, Madeline; he is a noble fellow, and has
+been a kind friend to my little girl; I do not think that he was very
+well treated by your aunt; but as eternity approaches, my daughter,
+the distinctions of life melt away.  I did not want to dismiss him
+from our house--send for him to-morrow, and tell him to bring his
+friend, Mr. Graham, with him."
+
+On the morrow, a few lines summoned him to the sick room, but without
+Mr. Graham.  Shocked at the change in Mr. Hamilton, he took his
+withered band, and seating himself by his side, he said, "These are
+hours of weakness, dear sir, and need a strong support."
+
+"They are, Roland; I feel flesh and heart failing, but I can say God
+is now the strength of my heart--your dear patient sister was the
+little messenger that brought the first whispers of the Spirit,
+Roland; I never forgot her dying words."
+
+For a minute, the brother was silent; but seizing the pale hand, and
+pressing it warmly, he replied,
+
+"Oh!  Mr. Hamilton.  What joyful news! my little Effie! was she,
+indeed, the messenger to you? wonderful are the ways of God!"
+
+"Yes, Roland, and I have always wanted to tell all that those words
+have done for me.  I felt that her faith was real; from that day, I
+have been reading my Bible with earnest prayer, and it has revealed
+to me a Saviour, all-sufficient for the darkest hour, all-merciful to
+the greatest sinner--will you pray with me, Roland?" and the young
+man bowed down by the side of Madeline, at her father's bed-side, and
+poured out an earnest, heartfelt prayer.
+
+"There will soon be a painful trial, Roland; will you be with us when
+the day arrives?"
+
+"I promise, Mr. Hamilton;" and Roland retired.
+
+He was frequent in his visits to the sick-room, introducing, also,
+Uncle Malcolm, whose strong, fervent faith, and Scriptural wisdom,
+was an unspeakable blessing to the suffering man.
+
+"To-morrow is the day, Roland; bring your friend;" and Mr. Hamilton
+pressed the strong hand of his young friend.
+
+What was Roland's surprise, to see Madeline pale, composed, and
+steadfast, by the side of her parent's bed, awaiting the physicians.
+
+"Can you bear this trial, Miss Hamilton?" was Roland's whispered
+inquiry.
+
+"I cannot leave my father; who else should sustain him but his own
+daughter?  I have prayed for strength; it is mine, Roland;" for in
+the deep feelings of the moment, she dropped the ceremonious title
+which she had used of late.
+
+The surgeons arrived--instruments were prepared; the sufferer calm
+and tranquil; Madeline heroic as a loving woman should be; Roland,
+full of sympathy for her; Malcolm strong, tranquil, prayerful.
+
+"My daughter, is it not too much?" whispered her father.
+
+"For you, my father? can anything be too much?  I can bear all;" and
+she kissed the dear face with steadfast lips.
+
+Close by her father's side, with restoratives in her hand, she
+remained throughout the whole painful trial; cold, and pale as marble.
+
+Roland stood near her, and Malcolm on the other side, with eyes
+closed, and heart uplifted to God in prayer.
+
+"It is all over," said the principal surgeon.
+
+"How?" whispered Madeline, to Roland.
+
+"Safe, Madeline!  It has been successful."
+
+The tension had been too much; the strong heart of love gave way to
+the woman's weakness; the reaction was too great; and Roland,
+perceiving her falling, lifted her tenderly in his arms--the first
+time that he had pressed her form so closely since the days of
+childhood; imprinting one warm, pure, and tender kiss upon the sweet,
+pale face, he laid her quietly upon the couch in the next room.  Aunt
+Matilda was there in anxious suspense.
+
+"Is it over, Mr. Bruce?" asked the lady.
+
+"All is well, madam, thus far, but Miss Hamilton needs your care;"
+and he bathed the face of the unconscious girl with the cologne that
+he had brought from the next room.
+
+"I will perform these offices, sir; you are not needed here,"--and
+dismissing him haughtily from the room, she proceeded to loosen the
+clothes, and apply restoratives.  The fainting was deep and long, and
+hastily she called a physician from the next room.
+
+Yielding to remedies, in a few more minutes, some gasping words, and
+a heaving of the chest, indicated returning consciousness.
+
+The eyes unclosed--"How is my father, sir?"
+
+"Quite composed," was the reply; "he needs perfect quiet; do not see
+him just yet; there must be no emotion; when you are entirely
+restored, you can attend him."
+
+"When can you pronounce him out of danger?"
+
+"We cannot tell for twelve hours what will be the result."
+
+Madeline lay quiet for another hour, her lips moving constantly in
+prayer; at length she arose.  "I am better, aunt; give me a glass of
+wine; I must return."
+
+"I am afraid, my dear child, that it is too much."
+
+"No, aunt, I cannot stay here--see!  I can walk firmly; I am
+perfectly restored;" and she passed quietly into the next room.
+Stooping over her father, she pressed one long, loving kiss upon his
+dear face.
+
+"Do not speak; I shall not leave you, dear papa, again."
+
+Malcolm watched with deep interest the strong love that filled the
+heart of Madeline; and coming to her side, he said,
+
+"My dear young lady, is your strength equal to this great demand?  I
+am ready to stay, and Roland will aid me."
+
+She smiled as she replied,
+
+"But you are not his daughter, his Madeline."
+
+Mr. Hamilton slept apparently in perfect peace.  Madeline watched him
+with untiring patience and hope.  Whenever he stirred, she was
+directed to administer, in small doses, the stimulants that were
+ordered by the surgeons.
+
+"What is the danger?" inquired Madeline; "he seems so quiet."
+
+"The want of reaction; sinking of the vital powers, my dear young
+lady."
+
+"Is there any reaction yet?" asked she, with a trembling voice.
+
+"None whatever," replied the surgeon, as he sat holding the
+pulse--"but it may come yet; there is a great difference in
+constitution."
+
+Mr. Hamilton was evidently in a state of insensibility, which
+Madeline mistook for sleep.
+
+"You had better administer the wine, my dear," was the surgeon's
+direction.
+
+"Will it not disturb his sleep, sir?"
+
+"Not at all, my dear child."
+
+And Madeline from time to time offered a tea-spoonful of wine to the
+exhausted man, only a part of which he appeared to swallow.
+
+Hours rolled on--Roland saw the quiet agony of the devoted daughter,
+as no symptoms for the better appeared.
+
+"Shall I take your place, Madeline, for a few minutes?" whispered
+Roland, as he beckoned to Mr. Graham to lead her to an open window;
+and while she stood there, leaning upon the shoulder of this good
+man, Roland continued watching, and dripping the wine drop by drop.
+
+Mr. Graham whispered--"Luik unto the Rock that is higher than we,
+dear Miss Hamilton," for he saw what was approaching.  "There is a
+friend that sticketh closer than a brother; trust him, my dear young
+friend;" and while she leaned so confidingly upon the strong man, he
+whispered earnest words of fervent prayer for the dear father
+stretched upon that bed of languishing, and for her so soon to be
+bereaved, that she was comforted and strengthened.  "Take me back to
+my father's side, Mr. Graham.  I must not leave him."
+
+The twelve hours had passed--no signs of returning consciousness had
+yet appeared.
+
+The surgeon beckoned to Malcolm Graham to come into the next room.
+
+"It is all over, sir--there is scarcely any pulse--he may recover
+consciousness, but he is passing away.  God help the daughter; you
+must prepare her."
+
+Madeline had seen the signal.  "Let me go, Roland; I must know the
+worst;" and hastily she followed Mr. Graham.  He was standing by the
+side of the mantel-piece, with his head bowed upon his hands, and
+strong emotion was shaking his frame.  He perceived Madeline.  Taking
+her by the hand, he led her kindly to the couch--they were alone.
+Placing his fatherly arm around her, he said with a caressing voice,
+"Lean on me, my child;" and he tenderly smoothed the soft brown hair,
+that lay dishevelled around her face.
+
+"God is trying ye, my dear; ye hae lately given yoursel' to him; ye
+and yer dear father.  He is going to tak' him first; can ye say, 'The
+Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken awa', blessed be the name o' the
+Lord?'"
+
+Her head sank lower, lower; she had fainted--Malcolm laid her down
+tenderly as a woman, and knelt by her side, administering
+restoratives, chafing the cold hands, and lifting up his heart in
+prayer.
+
+She opened her eyes--a sweet, sorrowful smile passed over her face,
+as she whispered, "It is a hard trial, but the Lord's will be done;
+my father is a Christian, and I can say now, he is thine; take him,
+dear Lord, to thyself; but O, Mr. Graham! this human heart!  How
+lonely will it be!  My father was parent, mother, brother, friend!"
+
+"Comfort will come, my dear child, if ye are ane o' the Saviour's
+fold; he is afflicted when ye are sad, has borne all yer sorrows,
+carried all yer griefs."
+
+"Now, let us return, Mr. Graham," and Madeline took her place again
+by her father's side.
+
+A few more silent hours passed--about midnight, there was some motion
+visible in the form that lay there so deathly still.  Slowly he
+unclosed his eyes, and raising his hand, said,
+
+"Where is my daughter, my Madeline?"
+
+"She is here, dear papa," was the quick response.
+
+"Kiss me, darling; I am in the midst of the dark valley, just passing
+over, Madeline; but 'his rod and his staff, they comfort me.'"
+
+She stooped over the dear parent; he folded her fondly to his heart;
+then held her off; looked at her one minute with unutterable love;
+then pressed upon her cheek the cold kisses of lips that were chilled
+in death.
+
+"You have been a comfort to me always, Maddy; you will meet me,
+darling, in the better world; be true to your dear Saviour, Madeline."
+
+"Do you suffer, dear papa?" was the affectionate, anxious question.
+
+"Not at all; perfect peace! perfect peace!  God be praised!" and in
+another minute, the spirit of Lewis Hamilton had departed to its rest.
+
+"Tak' her, Roland," said Mr. Graham, as he saw the drooping form of
+the afflicted daughter.  Tenderly he led her to the adjoining room,
+and whispered words of Christian sympathy and love, in her hour of
+sore trial.  Aunt Matilda had remained in the room with her brother,
+until the last moment, and had then sought her own room.
+
+"O, Roland! you know what I have lost," said the poor girl.
+
+"Yes, Madeline, but think of his everlasting gain;" and Roland sat
+with Madeline's dear hand clasped in his, as in the days of yore.
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+Lady Alice had heard of the bereavement, and accompanied by her
+brother, she sought the house of the mourner, at the earliest period
+after the funeral was over.  Roland was there, and Lord N---- needed
+none to tell him of the deep love that dwelt in the heart of Roland
+Bruce for the orphan girl.  But there was something in the humble,
+deferential manner of the young man, which led Lord N---- to wonder
+if he were really an accepted suitor.
+
+And for Roland himself--when the first hours of sorrow had passed,
+and all were trying to return to their accustomed pursuits, more than
+ever did he feel the vast difference between himself, the poor young
+lawyer, just launching upon the theatre of life, and the rich young
+heiress of Woodcliff, the idol even in noble circles.
+
+What could Madeline ever be to him, but the sweet child that he had
+trained, the young girl that he had watched so carefully, and the
+noble woman whom now he reverenced?  He was allowed access to the
+house, because Aunt Matilda had now no authority over Madeline, and
+independent as she always was, she would not allow dictation here;
+but only as a friend he came, and Madeline felt that it was so.  Once
+more she sought the house of God, where she had been accustomed to
+worship.  Clad in deep mourning, she took her seat among the
+worshippers, and listened to the Gospel message, with a full and
+trusting heart.
+
+It was a communion season, and as she bowed around the chancel, she
+did not perceive, until she was returning to her seat, that Lord
+N----, Roland, and Mr. Graham had all knelt at the same table.  It
+was a very sweet and soothing thought that here they could all hold
+blessed communion with their common Saviour; and though Uncle Malcolm
+and Roland were of different sects from herself, they were all one in
+Christ Jesus, "one faith, one hope, one baptism."
+
+Lady Alice was about to return to Parkhurst; but ere she went, she
+came to bid farewell to Madeline, who was soon to return to America.
+
+"I am sorry, dear, that you cannot be my sister, but I shall always
+love you; it is a great disappointment to us all, but especially to
+my dear Alfred.  I have brought you our likenesses, Madeline, with
+our hair woven on the back; you can cherish us as friends, dear."
+
+"You do not blame me, Lady Alice, I hope; I esteem your brother more
+than any one that I have met in England; and for yourself, dear
+friend, I shall love you always, just as if you were my sister--you
+will promise to write frequently, will you not?  I have something for
+you, Alice," and Madeline brought out a lovely miniature, a perfect
+likeness of herself.
+
+"Thank you, Madeline; I never saw any thing more beautifully
+painted--now, farewell! be sure to write often; but be assured that I
+do not blame you; for as I am sure that you must love another, I have
+nothing more to say; nothing else could prevent you from loving my
+dear brother."
+
+And thus they parted, these two young girls who had learned to love
+each other so well.
+
+Lord N---- came also ere he left the city.
+
+"I may call you Madeline, may I not? for I am trying to school myself
+to look upon you as a dear friend; I could not let you go without a
+farewell, sad though it may be."
+
+"I am glad to see you, my lord, and hope to hear of your welfare
+through your dear sister."
+
+"I think that I have seen my rival, Madeline, in the young man that I
+have met here; and I do not wonder; that noble brow, on which sits
+enthroned the lofty intellect, the only signet of true nobility, and
+that manly form, I could not but admire, while I dare not, as a
+Christian, envy."
+
+"You are mistaken, Lord N----; Mr. Bruce is but my friend."
+
+"He will be more, Madeline, before many years; and may God bless you
+both, I shall ever pray.  Farewell! dear Madeline, for I may say that
+in parting," and he wrung the fair hand, on which he printed a warm
+farewell kiss, and was gone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+THE FIRST LINK LOST AND FOUND.
+
+With a sad heart, Madeline turned her face homeward, for no kind
+father would brighten Woodcliff again.  Uncle Malcolm accompanied
+them to the steamer, which was to sail for Liverpool on the ninth of
+September.  Malcolm had become deeply attached to the noble youth who
+was to be the companion of their voyage.  Laying his hand upon
+Roland's shoulder, he gave him his blessing, and placing a packet in
+his hand, said, "Dinna forget, Roland, this is but your first visit;
+I maun see ye again, my son," and turning to Madeline with a
+moistened eye, he added,--"Farewell! my dear young leddy, ye will na
+neglect my boy, my Roland, I am sure; may God forever bless and
+comfort ye wi' his choicest gifts."
+
+Madeline bowed her head over the warm and honest hand, as she replied,
+
+"Roland has been my friend and brother ever since I was ten years
+old; such friendships are not soon forgotten, Mr. Graham."
+
+Bidding Miss Matilda and Edmund a courteous farewell, he took leave
+of Mrs. Douglass cordially, and left the vessel.
+
+Their passage must necessarily be a sad one; for on board were the
+remains of Mr. Hamilton, and they could not but be solemn in the
+presence of the dead.  When fairly out at sea, Roland opened the
+packet placed in his hand by his good friend, and found to his
+surprise, a scrip containing shares in the Bank of London to the
+amount of six thousand pounds, accompanying which was the following
+note:
+
+"To Roland, from a friend that loves him well, assured that he will
+be a good steward of his Father's gifts."  Examining his trunks, he
+perceived that there was one more than he had brought, with his name
+on it, and a key hung to the strap--what could it mean?  On unlocking
+it, he found a set of valuable law-books, a full suit of handsome
+black cloth, a complete set of shirts, neckcloths, gloves, hats, in
+fine, all that a gentleman needed; and, in addition, a small case
+which, on opening, contained a very valuable gold watch; and another,
+with Uncle Malcolm, Mrs. Lindsay, and Annot's pictures.
+
+He was overpowered with gratitude, first to the God of his fathers,
+and then to the noble friend whom he had raised.
+
+"Looking aloft!" whispered Roland, with a full heart, "I know now my
+mother's meaning; O, what a legacy she left her son on that
+death-bed!  From what depths of poverty have I been raised!  To what
+a post of honor and prosperity!  To God alone be all the glory!  When
+she bade me trust Him, I did not know the noble friend that was then
+awaiting for me among my native hills, I did not then know Malcolm
+Graham; but God knew where he was, and led me to him.  May he give me
+grace to be a faithful steward of His many gifts."
+
+Aunt Matilda was still very haughty to Roland, and distant to Mrs.
+Douglass; for she could not brook the companionship of the "common
+class," as she styled these, after the society of nobles; she was
+rather more condescending to Edmund Norris, for she had learned that
+he belonged to the upper circles of New York.
+
+Madeline was much alone, and, in her deep mourning dress, forbade any
+approach to light or trifling intercourse.
+
+One evening, having sought a secluded part of the vessel, Roland
+followed her, and found her looking down into the deep and solemn
+ocean.
+
+"May I intrude, Madeline?" for they had both agreed to drop the
+formal titles of ceremony.
+
+"You are welcome, Roland, welcome always; for I spend many sad hours
+in this lonely vessel, and can never forget the sacred relics that
+are with us."
+
+"That is a solemn thought, Madeline, but do not let us think of the
+silent dust; let us look upward to the blessed rest of the immortal
+part."
+
+"How grandly sublime, Roland, is this rolling ocean!  so deep! so
+vast! so boundless!  It reminds one of eternity.  I never look down
+upon its dark waters without hearing from its dashing waves the
+murmurs of another world; how many have sunk in this deep abyss, and
+passed hence to their eternity!"
+
+"Do you remember, Madeline, how we used to listen to its music at
+Woodcliff, when we were boy and girl?  What fancies we used to have!"
+
+"Yes, truly! we were singular children, Roland; I was a giddy little
+kitten; but no one knows what deep and solemn thoughts used to visit
+me even then;" and turning a bright glance upon Roland's face, "I
+think the first that I ever remember was from words uttered by you,
+the boy-sage, as I think now that you always were."
+
+Roland felt his heart throb with emotions of delight at these tender
+reminiscences, and replied,
+
+"Then you still remember, Madeline, the intercourse of those childish
+days."
+
+"Remember, Roland!  Yes; they will be remembered in the world to
+come; for your words, your mother's, and dear Effie's are the only
+ones whose impressions have ever influenced my life."
+
+"What a blessed thought, Madeline! that dear Effie should have so
+impressed your dear father."
+
+"Yes, Roland, it was a call of mercy; but I knew nothing of it then."
+
+"God leads us by a way that we know not, Madeline; what a blessed
+thing it is to trust Him!  When my mother first taught me these
+talismanic words, I did not know their power; but I have learned
+since what they mean.  'Looking aloft,' upward in all things, in
+sorrow, in perplexity, in adversity, in prosperity, for guidance, for
+blessing, for comfort; I can trust Him for everything now.  When,
+with her weak and trembling voice, she bade me in that hour of
+affliction, 'Look aloft,' when my boyish heart sank within me at the
+prospect of being all alone, I did not know, Madeline, of the dear
+friend, Malcolm Graham, waiting for me in Scotland; nor did he know
+of me, but we were waiting for each other; for God knew, Madeline;
+and He knows and will guide all else that shall befall us;" and then
+he proceeded to relate some of the most important features of
+Malcolm's history.
+
+And thus the hours were beguiled until a late time for retiring.
+
+Aunt Matilda called, "Madeline, it is growing late;" and Roland,
+taking her arm, and placing it within his own, led her to the
+cabin-door, where he bade her "Good night."
+
+"You seem much interested in the conversation of that youth,
+Madeline; it is not very proper for a young lady to be sitting alone
+until so late an hour with a young man."
+
+Madeline's old spirit flushed her cheek, and tightened the proud lip;
+but she checked herself, as she replied,
+
+"Aunt Matilda, I am not a child now; my actions are free, I believe,
+of control, so long as I do nothing that I am ashamed of; I always
+was, and shall be, interested in the conversation of Roland Bruce,
+and shall consider myself at liberty to talk with him when I please."
+
+"O, I dare say, miss, that he is much more interesting than Lord
+N----; I have no patience with you, Madeline, to cast away a coronet
+for such a man as this."
+
+"Aunt Matilda, you must not use such language to me; Roland is to me
+a very dear friend, and nothing more."
+
+"You cannot say, Madeline, that he had nothing to do with your
+rejection of Lord N----."
+
+"I cannot be questioned, Aunt Matilda; but I will never slight, or
+cast aside a friend like Roland Bruce;" and Madeline sought her rest
+with a disturbed spirit, for she feared that she had spoken
+improperly to her aunt, and resolved to apologize next day.
+
+She was stirring early in the morning; and, with the old innocence of
+childhood, she went to her aunt's state-room, and said,
+
+"Aunty, let me in; I have something to say to you."
+
+Aunt Matilda could not resist the pleading voice, and opened the door.
+
+"I am sorry, dear aunt, for what I said last night; will you forgive
+little Mad-cap's hot speech? it is some of the old temper, aunty,
+that will get the mastery; when I can sit more humbly at Jesus' feet
+I shall be better, I hope."
+
+Aunt Matilda kissed the dear girl fondly, as of old, saying,
+
+"I forgive you, my dear; you are the same little coaxing witch that
+you were when a child; I wonder if you'll ever be anything else."
+
+"I hope I shall always be innocent and truthful as a child, aunty;
+but I think that it is time I had learned to govern myself more like
+a woman."
+
+Mrs. Douglass was charmed with the simplicity and frankness of the
+young heiress; and, although much slighted by Aunt Matilda,
+Madeline's kindness amply compensated for this lack of courtesy.
+
+"I believe, Madeline, that you would associate with any one," said
+Aunt Matilda; "however low born or obscure, it matters not to you."
+
+Madeline smiled, as she replied,
+
+"You need never fear, dear aunty; for the vulgar and coarse-minded I
+despise, though dwelling in a palace; it is 'mind that makes the
+man;' so you see I come home true American, though I have mingled
+with the nobles of England."
+
+"Don't you think that the earl's family were lovely and refined?"
+
+"Yes, dear aunt; but I did not love them for their rank; it was for
+their worth, their education; and, dwelling in a cottage, they would
+be the same; we saw some, I think, even among the higher classes in
+England, that were not remarkable for refinement; for instance, the
+fat baroness that we met at our dress-maker's; don't you remember her
+vulgar airs when she tried to impress us with her style?"
+
+"Yes; but then you know that she had not always belonged to the
+haut-ton; she was one of the 'nouveaux riches.'"
+
+"In fine, Aunt Matilda, she was not a genuine lady, and never could
+be made one; whereas, Mr. Graham is one of nature's noblemen that I
+used to talk about when a little girl, and he never can be anything
+else; I have met with a few others just like him, dear aunt;" and
+Madeline smiled rather archly upon Aunt Matilda.
+
+"She'll never be cured of her plebeian notions," said the lady, with
+u sigh, as she turned away, "and it all comes from associating with
+these Bruces."
+
+Madeline smiled again as she took the arm of Mrs. Douglass, and
+commenced her walk upon the deck.
+
+"I am afraid that we are going to hae a storm," said the latter; "the
+sky is vera threatening, and the wind sighs heavily, as if mischief
+were brewing."
+
+"It must be a grand spectacle, Mrs. Douglass, to see the war of the
+elements; I think that I should like to be in a storm, if it were not
+too violent."
+
+"What are the signs, Davie?" said Mrs. Douglass to a sailor standing
+near.
+
+"We shall have squalls before morning, ma'am.  Mother Cary's chickens
+are flying around, and the wind comes from a stormy point of the
+compass."
+
+Aunt Matilda became nervous as she watched the dark clouds gathering
+from so many different quarters, and heard the growling of the
+distant thunder.  The wind rose higher and higher, the waves swelled
+until they rolled and surged in heavy billows in the wake of the
+ship, which commenced pitching and tossing from side to side; the
+rain descended in torrents, and, through the speaking-trumpet, the
+loud tones of the captain giving his orders, and the running to and
+fro of the seamen, increased the fears of the ladies.
+
+"What do you think of the storm, captain?" inquired Madeline.
+
+"We shall have a fierce tempest, my dear young lady; but we have a
+good strong ship, don't be alarmed."
+
+Aunt Matilda betook herself to the cabin, and, covering herself up in
+her berth, trembled with apprehension.  Mrs. Douglass and Madeline
+committed themselves quietly to the care of their Father in Heaven,
+and Roland paced the deck, with his eye turned anxiously upon the
+warring elements, and ever and anon walking near the cabin door,
+hoping to see something of Madeline.
+
+"Is that you, Miss Hamilton?" said the young man, as he thought he
+distinguished her standing at the cabin door, in the dim light below.
+
+"Shall I come up, Mr. Bruce? it is very close in the cabin."
+
+"Throw on a cloak and hood; I want you to see the storm."
+
+Madeline joined Roland on deck, and, looking around, was awe-struck
+at the scene.  The wind was whistling through the canvas, and the
+ship reeling to and fro like a drunken man, seeming, to Madeline's
+fears, almost unmanageable.
+
+"Is there danger, Roland?" she asked, clinging closer to his
+protecting arm.
+
+"There is always danger in a storm like this, and none are safe but
+those who are anchored on the Rock of Ages, Madeline," and Roland
+drew her closer to him, and threw his arm around her to keep her from
+falling.
+
+"This is a grand spectacle, Roland; we never saw the ocean in such a
+ferment.  How insignificant we seem! how powerless!"
+
+"You remember, Madeline, the sublime verses from the Psalms of David,
+where he describes the life of the seaman?  'For he commandeth and
+raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the waves thereof.  They
+mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths: their soul
+is melted because of trouble.  They reel to and fro, and stagger like
+a drunken man, and are at their wits' end.  Then they cry unto the
+Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses.
+He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still.'"
+
+Madeline listened to the rich, deep voice repeating these beautiful
+words, until, calm and tranquil, she leaned upon that strong arm for
+security, knowing how he trusted in the Lord.  But the hurricane
+increased, the rain beat fearfully around them, the waves rose
+mountain high, and, washing over the deck, compelled them to seek
+shelter below.
+
+"Shall I come in, Madeline?" asked Roland, when he reached the cabin
+door.
+
+"Yes, yes, Mr. Bruce! come in, don't leave as!" called out Aunt
+Matilda, who was suffering agonies.  "We shall all be lost! oh, hear
+the wind, how it howls!  And how the vessel rocks!  Listen! listen,
+Mr. Bruce, to the crackling timbers!  Can the vessel stand this
+storm?" and Aunt Matilda wrung her hands in despair.
+
+"Be calm, my dear Miss Hamilton," was Roland's answer; "let us commit
+ourselves to God, there is safety no where else," and he knelt down
+in the midst of the anxious company, and, in earnest words of fervent
+trust, he called upon the God of the tempest, and still "Looking
+aloft," was calm.
+
+Presently, the ship gave a heavy lurch, and rolled over on her side;
+all were thrown violently down on one side of the cabin, but she did
+not right again.  Edmund Norris ran to the ladies' cabin, for he felt
+the fearful danger.
+
+"We are going, Mr. Norris!" called Aunt Matilda; "we are sinking, I
+am sure!  O; God, have mercy! have mercy!"
+
+"Not yet, my dear madam.  The captain has ordered the main-mast sawed
+away, and then we shall probably right again."
+
+Roland, seated on the floor of the cabin, held Madeline in his arms.
+Not a word escaped her lips, for she was quietly reposing upon the
+promises of her Saviour.
+
+"We are in great danger, Madeline; are you resting upon the Saviour,
+dearest?" and Roland bent down in agony over the pale face that lay
+upon his bosom.
+
+"I know it, Roland, but perfect trust fills my heart; and if we go
+down in the deep water, it is with you, my dearest friend, and we
+shall enter Heaven together, and never go out again."
+
+It was an hour when the ceremonies of life were all forgotten, and
+Roland pressed a warm kiss upon the cold forehead and the pale lips
+that were whispering these precious words.  In another minute the
+ship righted, and the cheers of the sailors resounded throughout the
+ship.
+
+"Let us thank God, Miss Hamilton," said Roland, as he turned to Aunt
+Matilda; "for I hope that the storm is subsiding," and he poured out,
+in their midst, an earnest thanksgiving for the deliverance which he
+trusted was near.  Gradually the storm abated, and, towards morning,
+the waves sank to their ordinary bed, and the vessel went on her way.
+A temporary mast had to be erected, but, as they were nearing port,
+little anxiety was felt.
+
+Madeline blushed when she next met Roland, for she feared that, in
+the hour of danger, she had betrayed too much; but the sweet
+remembrance of his whispered words had banished all remaining doubts,
+and now she knew that Lavinia's tales about Helen Thornly must all be
+false; for Roland and honor were to her but one name.  Edmund Norris
+had witnessed the scene in the storm, and understood now the silence
+of his friend whenever he had mentioned the name of Madeline Hamilton.
+
+They were now nearing port.  In a few days, speeding up the bay, they
+were at home.  Roland took lodgings for himself and aunt in New York,
+and Madeline prepared to return to Woodcliff.
+
+"You will go with us, Roland," said Madeline; "we must look to you to
+aid us in the last said offices for dear papa," and the young man
+accompanied the party.
+
+"You will come on to see us, Mrs. Douglass," was Madeline's last
+farewell.
+
+It was a sad return; for, instead of the beloved father, nought
+remained but the sacred dust to be consigned to the silent grave.
+The servants gathered in reverence in the hall, as the family
+entered.  Joy at their return was mingled with deep sorrow, for they
+had all loved kind Mr. Hamilton.
+
+In two days, arrangements were made for the interment; and, in the
+midst of his own people, and the surrounding neighborhood, he was
+laid by the side of his departed wife, and the service that he had
+loved whispered its sublime consolations over his grave.  Roland
+returned to New York, and resumed the active duties of his daily life.
+
+Not long after Madeline's arrival, the old took, coming to her
+sitting-room, asked to see her for one moment.
+
+"Miss Madeline, there was a strange woman here the other day,
+inquiring when you would be at home; she spoke some queer language, I
+don't think it was an Irish tongue, and she called herself Elsie."
+
+"Did she say that she would come again, Betty?" inquired Madeline.
+
+"Yes; I told her when you were expected, and she said that she would
+come soon.  She was very tired and hungry, and I gave her a good
+supper; that was right, was it not, Miss Madeline?"
+
+"Yes, Betty, do not turn any one away that wants something to eat
+from Woodcliff; we have a great deal to spare, and it is such a
+blessed thing to give."
+
+In about a week, Mrs. Douglass came down to pay a visit.  Aunt
+Matilda was polite, for she was too kind-hearted to be rude in her
+own home.
+
+"Have you heard any thing from Mr. Bruce's father?" inquired Madeline.
+
+"Nae, not yet; but I hae advertised in several papers, an' hope that
+I may get some tiding afore lang."
+
+"It is strange that he should have left his family so suddenly, Mrs.
+Douglass."
+
+"He was aye an odd mon, Miss Hamilton, prone to fits of melancholy,
+an' we often feared that he wud gang crazy."
+
+After she had been a few days at Woodcliff, an old woman called to
+see her; in going to the hall, what was Mrs. Douglass' surprise to
+see Elsie Gibson! whom she immediately recognized.
+
+"Is that ye, Elsie?" said the lady, grasping her hand.
+
+"I'm owre glad to see yer face, ma'am; you were aye like yer brither
+Stephen."
+
+"Can ye tell me ony thing aboot him, Elsie?  I hae a fancy that he is
+still amang us; and I maun find him."
+
+"It hae been a lang time syne he cam to this country, Mrs. Douglass,
+an' his family had na seen him for years."
+
+"There is property in Scotland which canna be settled until we find
+the heir, Elsie, an' if ye ken ony thing aboot him, will ye na tell
+his sister?"
+
+"His loss was published in the papers in America.  Mrs. Douglass, an'
+that is a' that I can say, ma'am."
+
+Elsie would say no more, and spent the rest of her time in making
+inquiries after her kindred in Scotland.
+
+"Are ye na ganging home, Elsie?" continued Mrs. Douglass, "there is a
+comfortable hoose waiting for ye wi' your sister, and she is sair
+grieved that ye bide sae lang awa'."
+
+"As soon as my wark is done in America, I will gang to my ain people,
+for I hae greeted sair for them; but my wark is na finished yet; fare
+ye weel, ma'am, I shall see ye ance mair," and Elsie took her
+departure.
+
+Mrs. Douglass returned to New York, and still continued her
+advertisements, for it was all that she could do.  After she had been
+there some months, a note reached her from a family in Newark,
+requesting her to call, as they could give her some information with
+regard to the person of whom she was in search.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Antrim were a Scotch couple living quietly outside of
+Newark, having resided for twenty years in America--Mrs. Antrim, a
+neat, elderly person, received Mrs. Douglass cordially.
+
+"I saw your advertisement, madam, and it struck me that I might give
+you some information concerning your lost friend."
+
+"It is my brother, madam, wha is subject to fits of derangement, an'
+wha I think is in America."
+
+Mrs. Antrim described a mysterious man who had long lived in their
+neighborhood.
+
+Mrs. Douglass listened with deep interest, for she was sure that she
+had found her brother.
+
+"When was he here last, Mrs. Antrim?" she inquired.
+
+"Last Monday, and said that he would come this week."
+
+"Can ye accommodate me wi' board for a few weeks?"
+
+"I think that we can; we are not in the habit of taking lodgers, but
+if it will be the means of bringing this poor man back to his family,
+I will do it cheerfully."
+
+"I dread seeing him, Mrs. Antrim, for if he kens the face o' his
+sister, he will ne'er come again."
+
+"We must be very cautious; do not address him, Mrs. Douglass, take no
+notice of him.  I have a little grandson of whom he is very fond; he
+is the only one that can make him talk; we must watch for
+opportunities."
+
+Mrs. Douglass provided herself with a pair of green spectacles, and a
+very plain Quaker dress, that completely metamorphosed her, for the
+bonnet so entirely hid her face, that her own relations would not
+have recognized her; this she was to wear whenever the strange
+visitor should appear.
+
+In a few days, Mrs. Antrim came up to Mrs. Douglass' room.
+
+"He is coming, you had better change your dress."
+
+Mrs. Douglass did not appear until tea-time; she then quietly took
+her seat at the table, and had time to scrutinize the strange guest.
+Years had made great changes; the tall form was bent, the black hair
+was thin, and streaked with gray, the bright eye was dim and
+wandering, the once rich, dark complexion sallow, and the cheeks
+hollow and shrivelled; an uncertain flickering smile played around
+the lips once so stern and firm; but there was no mistaking Stephen
+Bruce--there was the marked finger, the same voice, and the remains
+of the same brother that had once sat by her side at her father's
+board.  He talked but little, for he saw that there was a stranger
+present.  The little grandson was at the table.
+
+"Sit by me, George," said the man, as he drew the child next to him,
+and continued, "shall I gie him some o' these cakes, Mrs. Antrim?"
+
+"Yes, Robert, but not many."
+
+"Where hae ye been a' this week, my little mon? ye hae na' been to
+see auld Robert ance."
+
+"I have been sick, Robert, and grandma would not let me go out."
+
+The boy was about ten years did, the age that Roland was when his
+father had disappeared, and had the same dark eyes and hair.  The man
+smoothed the dark hair as he said,
+
+"He is just like ane I luve, Mrs. Antrim."
+
+Mrs. Douglass could scarcely control her feelings, and finding that
+her food was almost choking her, she arose hastily, and left the room.
+
+"Where has the strange woman gane, Mrs. Antrim?  Did I frighten her
+awa'?  What does she wear that bonnet for?"
+
+"She has had weak eyes, and is not very well, Robert."
+
+"I heard her speak aince, Mrs. Antrim; I think that I hae heard the
+voice afore; let me see," and he placed his finger upon his lip, as
+he continued, "I can na' remember, but I hae heard it somewhere."
+
+He left soon after tea, and Mrs. Douglass, deeply agitated, declared
+that it was her lost brother.
+
+"What do you want to do, Mrs. Douglass?"
+
+"To tak' him hame wi' me to Scotland; our property can na' be settled
+until he gaes."
+
+"I fear that you will have great trouble before you can do this."
+
+Several visits were paid, but still no progress towards acquaintance;
+at last one day, he said suddenly to Mrs. Antrim,
+
+"Is that a Quaker lady?  She seems very quiet, not ane o' the
+clattering kind o' women.  I hae twa books which I ken would please
+her,--the lives o' George Fox an' William Penn; I wonder if she would
+come up to my little cottage."
+
+This was wonderful for Robert Duncan, but he seemed to regard the
+quiet lady with a sort of pity.  Mrs. Antrim communicated the news to
+Mrs. Douglass, and with many charges to conceal her emotion, they
+walked up to the humble home.  It had but two rooms, very plainly
+furnished--on one side of his sleeping-room hung a shelf of books.
+
+"Will ye sit doon, ma'am?" said Robert to the Quaker lady, and
+bringing the volumes spoken of, he continued, "I thought that ye
+might like these books, ma'am; wud ye like to read them?"
+
+Mrs. Douglass replied, in a low tone; "If thee will lend them to me,
+Robert."
+
+He tried to look under her bonnet, as he said, "It is vera like her
+voice."
+
+"Whose voice, Robert?" asked Mrs. Antrim
+
+"It dinna matter, ma'am, it can na' be; for she is far awa'."
+
+While they were looking over the other books, two pictures fell out
+from between the leaves of one.  It was but a glance--but it was Mary
+Gordon's face, and Roland's when a lovely child.  Mrs. Douglass was
+thrown off her guard; she seized the pictures.
+
+"Where did ye get these, Robert Duncan?" and the man, alarmed,
+gathered up the pictures, and hurried off into the next room.  Before
+they left the cottage, he came back, and with the suspicious glance
+of returning insanity, said,--
+
+"What do ye ken aboot these pictures? hae ye e'er seen them before?"
+and before she could reply, Robert had rushed out of the cottage,
+into a woods near by, and as they returned home, they saw him peeping
+with a dark countenance at them from behind some trees.
+
+"I fear that we shall not see him soon again," said Mrs. Antrim; "he
+will have one of his dark spells, and we must let him seek us now."
+
+For weeks no tidings were heard of the poor man, and Mrs. Douglass
+began to fear that her mission was fruitless.  It was some time
+before he appeared at church again, and bent on avoiding them, he
+went out at a side door, and they did not force themselves upon his
+notice.
+
+For several weeks it was the same--Mrs. Antrim hoped, however, that
+the loneliness of the cottage would bring him to their fireside in
+search of his little friend George.
+
+A salutation at the church-door, and a walk home with Mrs. Antrim,
+was the first encouraging sign; and the next afternoon, Robert was
+seen coming slowly up the garden path.
+
+"I think you had better not appear, Mrs. Douglass, until he asks for
+you," said the hostess.
+
+"I could na' stay awa' frae little George any mair, Mrs. Antrim; how
+fares the bairn?"
+
+"He has been asking for you every day, Robert."
+
+The poor man looked pleased, as he caressed the little fellow.
+
+After a few more visits, he asked for Mrs. Douglass.
+
+"Where is the Quaker lady, Mrs. Antrim?"
+
+"She will be here directly, Robert," and Mrs. Douglass appeared
+without her bonnet; a simple cap alone covered her fine dark hair.
+
+Robert looked long and earnestly at the face, as though he were
+studying the resemblance to some one whom he had known.
+
+"Did ye always live in America, ma'am?" inquired he.
+
+The question was unexpected.
+
+"I hae been here for some time, Robert."
+
+"Yer dialect is Scotch, ma'am; hae ye iver lived in Scotland?"
+
+"That is my native land, Robert."
+
+No more conversation passed at this time, and he took his leave.
+
+Absent again for some weeks, they sent to inquire, and found that he
+was very sick.
+
+"I will mak' a desperate trial, Mrs. Antrim; there hae been no
+progress yet in my mission; an' I maun try anither mode; let me gae
+this time to see him."
+
+"You may go, Mrs. Douglass, and may God be with you."
+
+Throwing off her Quaker dress, she assumed her former garb, and
+tremblingly proceeded to the cottage.  Robert was very sick; confined
+entirely to his bed.
+
+She entered, took off her bonnet, and advanced to the bedside.
+
+"Stephen Bruce! my brother Stephen! dinna ye ken yer sister?"
+
+The countenance of the sick man darkened, as he replied,
+
+"Wha are ye that come to fash a puir sick mon by calling him by a
+wrang name?"
+
+"Dinna ye ken yer ain sister Annie, Stephen?"
+
+"My sister Annie is in Scotland," replied the man, thrown off his
+guard.
+
+"She is by yer side, Stephen, yer ain loving, faithfu' sister; she
+has crossed the deep ocean to find ye, an' God be praised, she has
+na' come in vain."
+
+"Why do ye seek me, Annie?  I am but a puir wretched mon; ye canna'
+want sic a brother."
+
+"Ye are sair distraught, Stephen; I cam to tak' ye hame, that ye may
+get yer ain, my brother."
+
+"Nane wad want to see a mon that had forsaken wife an' bairns as I
+hae done, Annie."
+
+"Just consent to gang wi' me, Stephen."
+
+But no words could change the determination of Stephen Bruce; he
+listened moodily to all his sister's arguments; but all was in vain.
+
+She took her departure, and her heart sank within her when she heard
+the bolts slide, fastening doors and windows against another entrance.
+
+She sent each day to inquire; he was getting better; but no
+inducements could persuade him to open his door to the family at Mrs.
+Antrim's, not even to little George.
+
+In a few days, the cottage was forsaken; and Stephen had vanished
+from the neighborhood.  Thus the link so lately found was lost once
+more.
+
+In vain Mrs. Douglass sought for tidings; there was no clue whatever
+to his movements.
+
+"I hae no hope but in Elsie Gibson, Mrs. Antrim; I think that I shall
+see her soon."
+
+Advertisements were again inserted in the newspaper; but still no
+news.
+
+At length Elsie made her appearance.
+
+"I hae found my brother, Elsie, an' lost him again; can ye tell me
+where he is?"
+
+"I need na' be so secret noo, as ye ken that he lives; he has a
+strange dislike towards his kin, but I hope that we may ow'rcome it,
+for he is na sae bad as he was."
+
+"Where is he, Elsie?" asked Mrs. Douglass.
+
+"He is aboot tharty miles frae here, wi' an auld woman, who is kind
+to him."
+
+"What led ye to this country, Elsie?"
+
+"Ye ken the history o' my early days, Annie Douglass; and ye ken fu'
+well that Elsie ne'er forsakes the ane she luves, though Stephen
+luved anither.  When the tidings o' his loss reached Scotland, I
+greeted sair for him wha lay buried in the deep sea; but when he
+appeared suddenly amang us, I saw that his puir mind was a'
+shattered, for he seemed dark an' gloomy, and could na' bear the
+sight o' Malcolm Graham.  He was aye jealous o' that stricken mon;
+an' had the notion that Malcolm yet luved his wife wi' a fond an'
+tender luve.  He hid himsel' frae his friends, got some o' his money
+secretly, bound me by a solemn oath to keep his secret, and then
+started again for America to watch his wife.  I kenned that he was
+crazy; an' leaving a comfortable hame, where I had enow to live on
+weel, I cam' owre here; found puir Stephen separated frae his wife
+and bairns, an' wandering aboot wi'out a hame.  I could na persuade
+him to gae back to his wife; but he employed me to see that their
+wants were weel supplied.  I went out to sarvice, for I had nae ither
+way to live.  At last, the money he had brought was gane; he had
+become so much warse that he could na' tell me how to write to
+Scotland; then cam' the dark days.  I had to wark vera hard to find a
+hame for puir Stephen; the only thing that I am sorry for was that I
+agreed to stop the letters which Mary sent to Scotland, for he was
+beset wi' the notion that, in this way, she could hear frae Malcolm;
+an' he was niver at rest until I brought the letters, an' he
+destroyed them in my sight.  Then he seemed a little better; for he
+felt that he had closed the door for aye between his pure an' holy
+wife an' the mon that she had luved sae truly.  But Stephen luved her
+a' the time.  I used to tak' him sometimes several lang mile just to
+get a glint o' Mary an' her bairns in her humble cottage.  I led him
+to her grave, an' I saw him weep bitter tears owre the green sod, and
+owre the grave o' his daughter, Effie; an' I hoped that the warm
+tears wad wash awa' the cloud owre the puir brain; but it is there
+yet, Annie; an' I ken o' only ane ither way to lead him hame.  I hae
+told him meikle aboot his son Roland; he luves that boy wi' a' a
+father's pride; if he could see him, he might prevail on him to gang
+back to Scotland.  I hae helped to bear Stephen's sorrows, Annie, an'
+a' the pay I ask is just to see him happy; an' that is my mission
+here, Annie; when I see him wi' his ain people ance mair, an' his
+puir stricken heart at rest, then I shall gang hame again, an' spend
+the rest o' my life in preparing for my last journey."
+
+Mrs. Douglass listened with many tears to this sad story, and agreed
+with Elsie in the fancy that Roland only could persuade his father to
+return.
+
+She lost no time in writing; Roland came at once, and the three set
+out to find the heart-broken man.
+
+Elsie entered first.  "Stephen, I hae brought a friend, whom ye wad
+luve to see, an' wha wad luve to see ye."
+
+"Wha is it, Elsie?  wha can want to see sic a mon as I?"
+
+"Yer son Roland; as soon as he heard where ye are, he left all, an'
+is here, langing to see his father."
+
+"Elsie, how can he e'er forget the days o' poverty an' woe that I hae
+brought upon his mother?"
+
+"He is a Christian, Stephen; he has forgiven a' the past, an' a' that
+he wants noo is to see his father, an' be a guid an' faithfu' son to
+him, as he was aye to his departed mother."
+
+"Bring him in, Elsie; I maun see my boy."
+
+Roland entered, and before he could prevent it, Stephen had crawled
+out of bed, and lay prostrate at the feet of his son.
+
+Roland instantly raised him from the ground.
+
+"Do not kneel to me, my father; I came to seek you as a loving,
+faithful son."
+
+"I can na look upon yer face, yer young noble face, Roland, for I am
+na worthy o' sic a son."
+
+"Dear father, let us forget the past; my mother would smile upon this
+reunion, and now your sorrows are all over; I will cherish and keep
+you as a true and loyal son."
+
+Stephen Bruce could not resist the generous appeal, but lifting up
+his voice, the poor man wept; the fountains of the great deep of
+feeling were broken up, and stormed the bosom of the heart-broken
+penitent.
+
+Elsie Gibson stood by--poor, faithful Elsie; her mission was
+accomplished; her woman's unselfish love was all repaid.  She knelt
+by the side of the bed, and wept long and quietly, for hers were the
+tears of grateful, happy feeling.  Roland beckoned to his aunt.
+
+Stephen raised his head, the pale lips quivered, as he said, "come,
+sister Annie, we are a' as ane again;" and stretching out his arms,
+he folded in the embrace of a brother's love, the twin-sister of his
+early days.  There was no more need to persuade Stephen to return to
+Scotland; his anxiety to secure to this honored son all his rights,
+made him eager to set sail, that he might, in some measure, atone for
+past neglect.
+
+"You will return to America, my father, as soon as all is settled."
+
+"Yes, my son, I can na' be parted ony mair; I maun look to ye, my
+boy, for the strong arm; for I am a puir broken doon auld mon, auld
+before my time;" and Stephen folded his son in his arms with feelings
+of deepest reverence and love.  Elsie! poor faithful Elsie, stood in
+weeping silence.
+
+"Fareweel, Elsie! guid an' faithfu' friend! ye hae been true through
+the darkest days, an' God will bless ye;" and Stephen laid his hand
+upon her head, as he said, "True an' faithfu' may we a' meet abuve."
+As soon as possible, arrangements were made to leave America;
+farewells exchanged; and Roland, hastening from the ship, could still
+glance upward, and say, "Looking aloft!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+HEARTS' EASE.
+
+Foreign travel, association with Malcolm Graham, and abundant
+opportunity in Paris, London, and Scotland, for improvement, had done
+much for Roland.  It was seen in his daily life, in his professional
+career, and in the polished grace always attendant upon a
+highly-cultivated mind, and a heart purified by holy principles.
+
+Roland was henceforth among the leading members of the younger
+barristers of the great metropolis; for although but few could be
+found to adopt his principles of action, none failed to respect his
+character.
+
+Mr. Thornly's patronage was generously extended to the young man, and
+the society met at his house was from among the choice families of
+the crowded city.
+
+Edgar was still cheering his father's heart by the evident
+improvement in his moral character, and earnest devotion to study.
+
+Mr. Thornly could never forget the debt of gratitude which he owed to
+Roland; and for Helen, alas! it had been a dangerous privilege to
+dwell in the house with Roland Bruce.
+
+He is now a prosperous man--but does he forget the humble friends who
+had sheltered him in the days of his deep adversity?  No--for no
+sooner had he returned to New York than he remembered Richard and
+Martha Green.
+
+Prosperity warms and expands a noble heart, and only chills the
+sordid--and from the open purse of this child of Providence, many
+liberal donations found their way to the "News-Boys' Home."  A
+valuable library now filled the book-case in the reading-room, and
+none knew the generous donor; but no boy spending his quiet evenings
+in useful reading could experience half of the delicious pleasure
+that Roland enjoyed, when sitting among them, hearing and answering
+their questions; remembering that his means had contributed the
+larger number to the shelves.
+
+Roland's name often appeared in the public prints in connection with
+important law cases, and never without abundant praise; but
+remembering the source whence all came, he was not high-minded, but
+grateful; for it was God who gave him intellectual power and
+influence; the God who in one moment could lay his finger on that
+active brain, and produce universal chaos.
+
+Entering the reading-room one evening, Roland perceived a stranger,
+evidently a gentleman, sitting at the table; he raised his head on
+Roland's entrance.
+
+"Why, Stanley! is this you, my good fellow?  Where did you come from?"
+
+"I have been in New York some time, Roland, pursuing my studies; and
+seeing your name in the papers, I have been trying to trace your
+steps.  I am interested in these good works, and coming to visit this
+institution, I found that you were among its laborers, and have
+waited to see you."
+
+"It does me good, Stanley, to see your honest face once more."
+
+"And I am no less glad to meet you, Roland," shaking him heartily by
+the hand; "I was a wild chap in those college days."
+
+"Yes, Stanley; but you were a whole-hearted fellow, even when you
+were doing wrong."
+
+"Those days are over, Roland,--what would you say if I were to tell
+you that I am now among the saints, though the very humblest of them
+all?"
+
+"What would I say, Stanley?  Is it really so?  Give me your hand,
+your old honest grasp, and let me clasp it as a Christian brother.
+How was it, Stanley?  Tell me all about the great change."
+
+"It is told in a few words--the first sermon that I ever really
+heard, was preached at my sick-bed, by one who lived the
+Christian--it sank right down into my very soul; it spoke volumes to
+me; it haunted me night and day; for then I began to feel that I
+really was a miserable sinner.  I tried to silence the voice, but it
+spoke deeper, louder.  It followed me into the very dens of
+dissipated city life.  God be praised that it did!  I could obtain no
+rest.  Suddenly, I gave up my evil ways, and my bad companions; and
+at a supper, where many of them were gathered, I publicly renounced
+them all--they were amazed; they tried the power of ridicule; but
+they knew Stanley, and soon left me to myself.  I found peace in
+Jesus, and I am not ashamed, Roland, of the gospel of
+Christ--unworthy as I am, I am preparing to be an ambassador of him
+whom I once derided and persecuted."
+
+For a moment Roland was silent.  He remembered the earnest, fervent
+prayers, which he had poured out in behalf of Stanley; the answer had
+been long delayed, but it had come at last.  They left the room arm
+in arm, Christian brothers.  Roland was full of joyful anticipation,
+for he knew the earnest character of this young man, and believed
+that, like a second Paul, he would preach the everlasting gospel.
+
+Introducing him into the family of Mr. Thornly, he was frequently in
+his society, and found what he had long desired, a fellow-laborer in
+his Master's cause.
+
+Helen was interested in the bold young champion of truth, for she was
+herself becoming daily more devoted to the cause of the Redeemer,
+less assimilated to the spirit of the world.  With her father's full
+consent, she took an open stand with the friends of Jesus, and from
+that day, her course was upward and onward in the Christian life.
+
+Madeline occasionally visited New York on business, for she was still
+engaged in writing her little books--entirely separated from the gay
+world, not only by her mourning dress, but by deliberate choice, she
+was only found in the domestic circles of intimate friends.  She was
+still annoyed by the public attentions of Henry Castleton, for
+personal vanity had made him blind to the positive aversion of his
+cousin Madeline.
+
+Lavinia is now on a visit to New York, and is spending an evening at
+Helen Thornly's, in company with a few friends, among whom is Henry
+Castleton.  The conversation turns upon a party where the two had met.
+
+"Really!" said Lavinia, with a toss of her proud head, "go where you
+will, one must meet with the parvenues of society; did you observe
+that Miss Digby dressed out in her diamonds and point lace, for such
+a small social party?"
+
+"Yes," replied Harry, "I could scarcely restrain a smile, when I was
+introduced to her; who is she, Miss Raymond?"
+
+"She is the daughter of old Digby, the great confectioner; he has
+retired from business, and lives in grand style, with his carriages,
+and his town and country house; but you can see the vulgarity of the
+people, for who but a Digby would ever have thought of diamonds at
+such a party?"
+
+"And who was that little Miss Austin?  I mean the one dressed in
+simple white, seated in the corner?" asked Lavinia.
+
+"I don't know," was Harry's reply, "but she was evidently a lady; so
+quiet! so refined! with such a low sweet voice, and dressed in such
+excellent taste--did you observe how much attention was paid to her?"
+
+"Yes, I wonder who she is; the Browns, the Starrs, and the Carsons
+were very polite to her; and you know that they are really our first
+people; she must be somebody, for she had such a distinguished air."
+
+Helen let them run on with their folly, and then quietly remarked
+with a meaning smile,
+
+"Miss Austin is a governess in the family of the lady whom you were
+visiting; her father was a sea-captain, and her mother conducted a
+young ladies' school for many years; indeed, until her death; her
+daughter, who is highly accomplished, is obliged to earn her own
+living--she is a lady of great worth and intelligence, and, happily,
+is with a family who knows how to value such gifts."
+
+Helen and Madeline were both amused at the disconcerted expression
+upon the faces of Harry and Lavinia.
+
+"Really!" said the latter; "I never was more mistaken in all my life,
+for I took her for a lady of high rank."
+
+"What are we coming to?" responded Harry, "when the daughters of
+confectioners and teachers can aspire to mingle with the best
+circles?  I should not wonder if shoemakers and tailors would creep
+in.  Indeed, I have met with one who was formerly a common boot-black
+in society where _I_ visit; I am amazed at his presumption, for
+Roland Bruce was nothing more."
+
+Madeline could restrain herself no longer--for although Helen tried
+to hold her down, she arose with dignity from her chair, while a
+crimson glow covered her whole face, and regardless of the presence
+of strangers, she said,
+
+"And do you presume, Harry Castleton, to look down upon such persons
+as Miss Austin and Roland Bruce? you, with your empty head!" (and she
+tapped her pretty head with unconscious scorn,) "and they with their
+noble character, and brilliant powers of intellect--I am sorry for
+you, Harry, with such a _pretty little figure!_ and such a _paltry
+little soul_!  Will it ever grow beyond a pigmy's?  Roland Bruce will
+shine among the great and good, when you are entirely forgotten."
+
+Harry withered beneath her rebuke; and even Lavinia, whose lip curled
+in contempt, for the moment looked awe-struck.
+
+Madeline stood with her back to the door, facing the glass; she was
+too much excited to look forward, or she would have seen the figure
+of Roland standing irresolute at the door, for he had heard all; and
+stood, not knowing whether to advance or retire.
+
+It was a picture for an artist, as he appeared listening to the
+impassioned words bursting from the lips of Madeline Hamilton.
+Roland towering above all present in height, with his broad expansive
+brow, on which sat enthroned a lofty intellect, the signet of true
+nobility; his fine dark eye, and firm, but sweetly expressive, mouth,
+his cheek glowing with the feelings of the moment; and Madeline, in
+all her youthful grace and beauty, with cheek suffused, and burning
+eye, her hand extended towards Harry Castleton, who durst not raise
+his eyes to hers--the room was silent--suddenly Madeline raised her
+eyes, and in the mirror opposite she saw the figure of Roland
+standing behind her, and covering her blushing face with her hands,
+she sat down, overwhelmed with shame.  Roland advanced, with great
+dignity, towards Helen Thornly.
+
+"Will you favor us with some music, Miss Helen?"
+
+She advanced, glad to break the painful silence.
+
+Roland did not, for some minutes, approach Madeline; he understood
+her feelings, and spared her the pain of drawing any further notice
+towards the sorely mortified girl.  When a suitable opportunity
+offered, he quietly took his seat by her side; he saw that she was
+suffering, for whenever she raised her eyes, they were moistened with
+tears, and her lips trembling with emotion.
+
+"Do not distress yourself, Madeline," whispered the young man, "be
+calm if you can; if you cannot, I will lead you to the other room."
+
+"Don't speak to me, Roland, I an ashamed of myself; such a burst of
+passion in this public place!  I wish I were in my room; I am not fit
+to meet this provoking young man."
+
+"I thank you for the generous defence; but another time, Madeline, I
+will say more to you about it."
+
+"You despise me, Roland, I know that you do; for I despise myself."
+
+"Despise that warm and generous heart, Madeline!  Never! do not
+entertain the thought for one moment; but I must leave you now; we
+are too much observed.  I will call to-morrow, if you will walk with
+me to the Battery."
+
+Crossing to another part of the room, he found himself near Lavinia
+Raymond, and bowed politely.
+
+"Miss Thornly sings well, does she not, Miss Raymond?"
+
+Lavinia looked surprised, as though not acquainted with the
+gentleman, and made no answer.
+
+"Her voice is very sweet, and she sings with much feeling," he
+continued.
+
+Miss Raymond deliberately turned her back, murmuring, "Impertinent!"
+and crossed to the other side of the room.
+
+Roland smiled, for Madeline's warm and generous defence had filled
+his heart with secret rapture, although he could have wished that it
+had not drawn upon her so much notice.
+
+The evening passed unpleasantly, for Madeline's mortification and
+self-reproach were too deep to be easily forgotten; she had exposed
+herself in the presence of so many witnesses, had given way to an
+unchristian burst of temper, publicly wounded a cousin whom she
+should have tried to benefit, and, she was sure, must have lost the
+respect of Roland Bruce.
+
+Roland's quiet dignity of manner had won for him golden opinions, and
+Harry had failed again in humbling the man whom he both feared and
+hated.
+
+Lavinia was again disappointed; for the company generally had treated
+the one with marked distinction, the other with entire forgetfulness
+and contempt.
+
+Late in the afternoon of the next day Roland called; Madeline was
+ready, but shy, reserved, abashed.
+
+They walked almost in silence until they reached the Battery; then
+seating themselves under the shade, Roland addressed the mortified
+girl,
+
+"What is the matter, Madeline? you seem so silent; are you displeased
+with me?"
+
+"No; not with you, but with myself; I thought that I had learned to
+control my impulsive temper, Roland; but I find that I have made no
+progress.  I own that I was all wrong yesterday, but I have done the
+same before; and on the first provocation, I am tempted, and overcome
+again."
+
+"Your motive, Madeline, was noble; and, as Miss Austin was not
+present to defend herself, it was generous in you to be her champion."
+
+Madeline looked her thanks to Roland, for she saw how he was trying
+to reconcile her to herself, and understood the delicacy with which
+he approached the subject.
+
+"For myself, Madeline," and he spoke in lower tones, "you were always
+the same noble, frank, and generous friend; but you will allow me
+also the privilege of a friend; you know I have always laid a gentle
+rein upon your neck, Madeline; and you formerly yielded to the
+friendly check; may I still do the same?"
+
+"Say all that you think, Roland, fully, freely, as you used to do;
+only don't excuse me."
+
+"I wish that you would learn to restrain those open expressions of
+your feelings; they make you enemies, and they are not in accordance
+with the spirit of the Gospel."
+
+"I know it, Roland; I am so glad that you do not praise me; I should
+not respect you if you did; but how am I to become meek and lowly?
+I, passionate! proud! wilful Madeline?  I want to be humble, I long
+to be holy."
+
+Roland took the little hand gently, kindly, as of old, and held it
+between his own; bending his eyes upon the ground, he repeated,
+"'Come, learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart, and you shall
+find rest unto your soul.'"
+
+"How, Roland, can I learn of Jesus?"
+
+"Sit at his feet every day, Madeline; study his holy character, pray
+for his blessed spirit; you have trusted him with the justification
+of the immortal soul; trust him also in the work of sanctification;
+he is the author of both; of the former by himself; of the latter by
+his spirit."
+
+She bowed her head, and wept.
+
+"O, Roland! sometimes I fear that I am not among the justified ones;
+if I were, would not the fruits be more manifest?"
+
+"Have you any hope of Heaven apart from Jesus, Madeline?"
+
+"No, Roland, 'Jesus only,'" and this she said with deepest feeling.
+
+"That is faith, Madeline, and it is faith that justifies; this faith
+works godly sorrow for sin, earnest longing for holiness, deep
+humiliation; do you not experience these?"
+
+Madeline looked up through her tears with such a smile of hope--
+
+"Yes, Roland, ever since yesterday I have been in the dust, repenting
+of my sin, and longing, praying for holiness; and then I am so sorry
+for Harry Castleton; I wounded him so deeply, I behaved so
+shamefully."
+
+Roland, looked upon the weeping girl, almost with the feelings of a
+parent towards a child; there certainly was compassionate tenderness
+in his face, and lowly reverence in that of Madeline, as he laid his
+hand in blessing upon the drooping head.
+
+"I am going to ask Harry's pardon, Roland; I cannot be happy until I
+do; and then, by God's help, I will never be unkind to him again; he
+is not gifted like some others, and it was mean to reproach him with
+it; I know that he has always loved me, and I ought to be grateful;
+is it not strange that it makes me so angry, when it is not so with
+some others--I wonder why it is, Roland?" and the artless look with
+which she uttered these innocent words, caused a smile to pass over
+his face, for she was a child in some things yet.
+
+"Is not this pleasant talk? just like 'Auld Lang Syne,' Roland, when
+you used to lecture little Mad-cap, and when she used to like the
+lectures so much better than other people's praises."
+
+"Yes, it is too pleasant, Madeline; I wonder if you have cherished
+the mementoes of those childish days as I have? do you know this
+handkerchief, Madeline?" and Roland took out of his pocket a soiled
+cambric handkerchief, stained with blood.
+
+She looked at him with great surprise.
+
+"Why, where did you get that dirty handkerchief?"
+
+"Don't you remember the first day that we met upon the shore, that
+you wiped my face with your handkerchief?  I have kept it ever since,
+and would never have it washed; to-day I was looking among some old
+relics, and put it in my pocket, intending to place it again among my
+treasures."
+
+Madeline blushed as she looked at the handkerchief, and smiling, she
+said,
+
+"They were very happy days; what a merry child I was! so spoiled! so
+wilful!  I wonder if I am any better now."
+
+"You were a very charming child, Madeline, and I never can forget the
+little friend of the sea-shore.  Here is another relic!" and he held
+up a lock of golden hair, which she had given him in those childish
+days.
+
+"Were we not very happy, Roland? now I am so much older--we have both
+seen sorrow, you the most; and I too have tasted of the cup--and now
+it is so solemn to live, Roland, to have the charge of so much
+property, and to be responsible as a steward for all that God has
+given to me.  Papa told me that I might choose my own guardian; I
+have no male relations, and no one but you--will you not take charge
+of my estate, Roland?"
+
+"It is a great responsibility, but I cannot well decline it; I shall
+be but too happy if I can serve you."
+
+"I want some one to teach me how to take care of it, and how to use
+it for the good of my fellow-creatures.  I saw such a beautiful
+example in the Countess of N---- and her noble husband; they seemed
+just to live to do good to their own family, and the people all
+around them.  I have commenced my little school again, and it is
+growing fast; I shall soon want a teacher; then I must have a
+reading-room for the factory-men, a missionary for the neighborhood,
+and, after a while, a dear little church of my own."
+
+Roland listened to the young enthusiast with a glowing heart, for she
+was running on with a smiling face, and such an earnest, happy
+expression.
+
+The tears were gone--April had passed, and smiling May fanned its
+breezes around the two, as they sat under those shady trees.
+
+She was playing with a sprig of hearts'-ease while she was talking.
+
+"What a sweet flower you have, Madeline!"
+
+"Yes, it is one of my favorites; I have so many at Woodcliff."
+
+"Won't you give it to me, Madeline?"
+
+"What! my hearts'-ease, Roland!  There, take it; I wish it were not
+so faded."
+
+Placing it in a button-hole of his coat, he smiled as he said,
+
+"That is an emblem of yourself, Madeline, or what you used to be--my
+own little hearts'-ease."
+
+"Well, truly!  Roland Bruce paying compliments!  Take care, good sir;
+don't become a flatterer."
+
+"I speak truth, Madeline; but let us talk a little more about this
+trust that you wish me to undertake--are you very careful about your
+accounts, Madeline? you should make a regular entry of every day's
+expenditure, calculate your income, put apart so much for your
+charities, and so much for your daily wants--but never run into debt."
+
+Madeline began to smile.
+
+"Well, good sir! it seems so funny for little Mad-cap to be sitting
+here listening to a lecture from her guardian, little Roland of the
+Maple Lane School--you are getting on pretty fast, I think, and it
+will not be long before we hear that eloquent speech that I have so
+often talked about."
+
+Roland was suddenly depressed; for when he looked upon the young
+heiress of so large an estate, and himself, her guardian, he felt
+more than ever repelled from thoughts that would sometimes rise up in
+his heart with visions of domestic bliss.
+
+There was so much of artless, tender interest in Madeline's manners,
+that often the thought would cause a thrill of rapture as hope
+whispered, "She loves me, this peerless child of Nature! this fresh,
+guileless young heart!  But it cannot be--be silent, foolish heart!
+But it is a joy to guide, to counsel, to comfort, even to hear her
+voice," and gradually he sank into silence.
+
+Madeline's spirits were gay--taking Roland's arm, they walked home
+quietly together.
+
+It had been a happy hour!  But Roland awoke as from a dream, when
+Madeline named her property; with that, came the incubus that always
+lay as a shadow between him and his darling's warm young heart.
+Chilled by its icy breath, he remained quiet.
+
+"Why are you so silent, my good sir?" inquired Madeline; "it seems
+that you have left all your spirits at the Battery."
+
+"I was looking some very painful thoughts right in the face,
+Madeline; there are some things that I must get accustomed to, but it
+is not an easy task."
+
+"Can I help you, Roland?" and she turned a kindly look upon his
+troubled face.
+
+"_You_, help me, Madeline!  No--it is beyond your power," and he
+looked deeply pained.
+
+"There is nothing, Roland, that I would not do, to lighten your
+cares, if I only knew what they were."
+
+"Never mind, my good little friend, there is a refuge for every care;
+I have tried it very often, and it has never failed--no, not once."
+
+By this time, they had reached the door of Madeline's stopping-place.
+
+"Good evening, Madeline, God bless you!"
+
+"I shall see you to-morrow, Roland--shall I not?  I will then tell
+you all about Harry."
+
+"Yes, I will see you,"--and Roland turned away to kiss the sweet
+little bunch of hearts'-ease, murmuring, "not for me! would that she
+were penniless;" while Madeline went up-stairs, humming a low, soft
+tune, as she whispered, "What a dear, kind guardian!"  Would she have
+echoed Roland's wish, had she known this to be the only barrier
+between two pure young, loving hearts?
+
+True to her sense of right, she sent a short note without delay to
+Harry Castleton, requesting the favor of an early call next morning.
+
+Harry loved Madeline as much as his weak nature would allow him to
+love any one beside himself, and had borne much contempt from her
+even meekly; therefore, he obeyed the summons, wondering what change
+had come over his proud cousin.
+
+"I sent for you, Harry, to apologize for my conduct; I am heartily
+ashamed of it--it was unwomanly, unchristian, and uncalled for.  I
+hope, Cousin Harry, that you will forgive me; you know what a proud,
+high temper I have, and must attribute all that I said to that
+infirmity."
+
+Harry looked amazed--he had never before seen Madeline so humble
+herself to any body, and he wondered what it really could mean.
+
+"I was to blame too, Madeline; I know how my speeches provoke you,
+and I believe that I uttered them for that very purpose.  I receive
+your apology freely, I hope that you will accept mine.  I cannot help
+my feelings about Roland Bruce, for I do believe that it is he only
+that prevents your return of my warm affection."
+
+Madeline bit her lip, for hasty words were coming again, but she
+restrained them, and replied,
+
+"You are mistaken, Harry, I feel for you the interest of a cousin;
+nothing else could possibly be entertained; but you will never have
+to complain again of unkind conduct at my hands; I have been too
+deeply humbled.  I do wish you well, cousin Harry; I would like to
+see you caring more for better things; then at least, you would have
+my respect."
+
+"Madeline, if you had always been thus kind, I might have been a
+better man; your scorn has embittered me; but words like these soften
+my heart, and waken better feelings, even in vain and trifling Harry
+Castleton."
+
+They spent an hour in friendly conversation, and Madeline was greatly
+relieved, when she parted amicably from her cousin.
+
+A familiar step soon followed upon Harry's departure, and Madeline,
+with her own mischievous smile, said,--
+
+"Now, Roland, have I not been a good girl?  I made an humble apology
+to Harry, for all my naughty ways, and I think that my venerable
+guardian must be satisfied with his protégé."
+
+Roland smiled, and answered,
+
+"Follow out your own convictions of right at once, Madeline, as you
+have done in this case, and you will not go very far astray."
+
+"I would have done the same willingly before all that room full,
+Roland, that they might have known how heartily ashamed I was?"
+
+Roland looked upon this fascinating combination of innocent, frank
+child-nature with true earnest womanhood, and felt convinced that the
+world would never spoil this fresh young soul.
+
+"You look very sad, to-day, good sir; has any thing happened to
+distress you?"
+
+"Nothing now, Madeline; I have only had to tame down some wild,
+ungoverned fancies."
+
+"Here are some of my papers ready for my sage guardian; when I get
+home, I will send the rest."
+
+Roland winced again; for this bundle of parchment reminded him of the
+night's sore struggle--he could not now see Madeline with the mere
+regard of a true friend, for the silent hours of midnight communion
+had fully revealed the state of his heart.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+SEAWEED.
+
+The witcheries of the world were rapidly losing their power over
+Madeline Hamilton--but Nature, calm, beautiful, bright, became more
+dear, more elevating to her child--for had she not always been her
+nursing-mother even from earliest childish days?
+
+There was perfect harmony between the fresh guileless nature and the
+green trees, the smiling sky, the deep blue ocean, and the sweet
+voices among which she rambled; and deeper, fuller than ever was the
+joy swelling in her young heart, when she could look upward and say,
+"My Father made them all."
+
+From the deep fountains of her new nature gushed out streams of love,
+for all that God had made; for the more that she loved God, the
+truer, and more spiritual became her love for her fellow-men.  Then
+the intimate relations between herself and Roland, the dear
+companionship, the old feelings of perfect trust and reverence, and
+the tender interest which enveloped her in such a mantle of
+protection, dwelt with her daily; and neither needed words to tell
+how truly they were one, nor with what unconscious, mysterious
+knowledge, they had read each other's hearts.  Roland could not but
+feel "she loves me," and Madeline needed no language to make her
+understand how precious was the sacred bond which united their warm
+young hearts.
+
+The little children that assembled around her still in her
+Saturday-school, and her class on Sunday, all felt the sweet
+attraction--the dwellers at the cottages, Aunt Matilda, and the
+people in the kitchen, all realized that a warmer glow of love
+kindled in the young face, and sweeter words were breathed from her
+lips.
+
+Madeline was really living--for the heart had found objects on which
+to bestow its benevolence, and the feeling, day by day, was
+deepening, widening, as she felt truly "Jesus loves me, and I love
+him."
+
+As the guardian of her worldly concerns, she received frequent
+letters from Roland, full of kind advice and strengthening words.  He
+had laid down for her a plan which she was eager to carry out, and it
+was a pretty picture to see the young girl with her little basket of
+books, tracts, and domestic comforts, sallying forth daily among her
+humble dependents.  Hours for devotion, household cares, for reading,
+music, for exercise, for benevolence, were systematically arranged,
+and as carefully carried out; and while Aunt Matilda was yawning over
+want of occupation, and imagining headaches, indigestion, and
+countless other evils, Madeline scarcely found time for her numerous
+duties.  She was very happy; for even while she missed the smile of
+her dear father's approval, was she not blessed with the assurance of
+his unspeakable gain? and did she not hope to join him at last in the
+better world, to part no more forever?
+
+Her cheek bloomed with brighter tints, her eye beamed with holier
+love, and her lips told tales of sweet inward peace and joy, drawn
+from the deep wells of salvation.  She was learning some of Mozart's
+and Beethoven's finest music on her harp, and some sacred melodies
+for her voice; for she knew the style that pleased Roland, and was
+scarcely aware how all her occupations were mingled with the name of
+that precious friend.  Sometimes, doubts and difficulties would
+obtrude themselves when reading the Scriptures, and then she would
+wish for her faithful guide.
+
+"Get Mr. Bruce's room ready, Mary," said Madeline to the chambermaid;
+"he will here to-morrow," and she spent much of her time in
+preparations for the welcome visitor.
+
+Aunt Matilda found that although her niece treated her with respect
+and affection, in the choice of her guardian she had exercised the
+liberty which her father had given her, and the good lady had quietly
+to submit.  The respectful reverence with which Roland treated
+Madeline's aunt almost disarmed her opposition to this intimacy, and
+would have done so entirely, could she have divested herself of the
+fear that Roland might some day be more than guardian.  After tea,
+Madeline led Roland to the drawing-room.
+
+"I have learned some new music just for you, guardian," and she
+played some of her finest pieces with exquisite taste and execution.
+
+"How can people like polkas and waltzes after such music as this?"
+said Roland; "it seems to speak so truly the language of the soul."
+
+"I have some beautiful sacred melodies, and I want you to learn them
+to sing with me, guardian, your voice is so good."
+
+It was amusing to see Madeline assume the office of teacher, and when
+he would make mistakes, with an arch expression around her mouth, to
+hear her say--
+
+"What a dumb scholar! don't you see that you are singing the wrong
+note?  I am so glad that there is something I can do better than you."
+
+It was a laughing lesson, with Roland's blunders, and Madeline's
+pretended reproofs, and the pat of the little hand on his head when
+he succeeded.
+
+"Don't be affronted, guardian, for I really do entertain a profound
+respect for you, though not much wholesome fear; that is rather out
+of my sphere, good sir."
+
+After sundry trials, they succeeded admirably, and Madeline's sweet
+treble, with Roland's rich tenor voice, made truly delightful music.
+
+"That's a good boy, Roland! you shall have a treat for your
+performance," and Madeline ordered a _tête-a-tête_ supper before
+retiring, with just such viands as Roland liked.
+
+"Shall I see you to-morrow in the library, Madeline?" was Roland's
+request, as he bade "good-night."
+
+"Yes, at nine o'clock; I shall be occupied until that time."
+
+A full hour was spent in transacting some business attendant upon his
+office, and, at the close, Madeline, with a sweet, serious face,
+seated herself on a lower seat by the side of her guardian.
+
+"I have wanted you lately, Roland, I have been so troubled when
+reading the Scriptures; I don't know what can be the matter, but my
+mind has been so disturbed by doubts and difficulties, that they have
+clouded my peace, and perplexed me so much."
+
+"Are they connected with your duties, Madeline?"
+
+"No, Roland; they are about deep, inscrutable mysteries that I cannot
+understand," and Madeline, from a full heart, poured out all her tale
+of doubts and trials into the ears of one ever ready and able to
+counsel and aid her trembling steps.
+
+On Sunday morning, Roland accompanied Madeline, opened the services
+of the Sunday-school, and aided in teaching; in the afternoon, by the
+side of his young friend, and using the same book, he joined in the
+beautiful service which she loved, for he had outlived the prejudices
+of his childhood, and had learned to love goodness and truth wherever
+he saw it, or under whatever garb, and could now easily make
+allowances for the deep aversion of those days of persecution to the
+rigid ritualism which laid such heavy burdens upon the consciences of
+Christian men.
+
+While he remained at Woodcliff, one hour each morning was spent in
+studying the word of God, and his clear explanations greatly aided
+the young believer.
+
+"This is a pleasant evening, Madeline; shall we walk down to the
+shore?  I must see the dear spot before I return to New York."
+
+"Wait a minute, Roland, I must get my hood and scarf; it is a little
+damp.  Old Peter will be glad to see us, and I have something for
+him."
+
+"So have I," answered Roland.  "He must be growing very old, for he
+was an aged man when we first came to Woodcliff, and that is
+seventeen years ago; I am now twenty-six."
+
+"And I twenty-one; and yet, Roland, I do not feel more than sixteen;
+I enjoy life as much as then, and I have just the same faith in
+goodness as I had at that age."
+
+They soon found themselves at the dear trysting place, and, seated on
+the rock, they gazed in silence upon the grand old ocean.  Madeline
+was the first to speak.
+
+"Does it seem possible, Roland, that eleven years have passed since
+you stood there," pointing to a spot near them, "defending the poor
+little things who had lost their diamonds?"
+
+"And yet, Madeline, if we measure time by events, what a long life
+mine would seem!  So full of trial, of blessing, and of stirring
+incident!  What finger-posts of Providence have marked my way!"
+
+"How strange are its wondrous dealings, Roland!  I ran down to the
+shore that evening with my dog Hector, just for a merry race and a
+wild romp with my good old playmate, and I found you--then a poor,
+threadbare boy, with a grand and noble soul--be still, Roland" (for
+he was about to speak), "I felt what was hidden under your worn-out
+jacket, child that I was; and I found such a friend! eternity only
+will reveal what you have been to wild, impulsive Madeline;" turning,
+with her young face all glowing, she added, "I fought your battles
+then, Roland, and I have done so ever since, for my childish
+instincts read truly."
+
+"There are some scenes, Madeline, written upon the tablets of memory
+with a diamond pen, and that afternoon was one; the face of the
+bright child, with her generous impulses and her scorn of meanness,
+the stained handkerchief, and the tender touch of the dimpled hand
+have been with me ever since; to this have been added the bright,
+wild, untamed intellect that interested me in Maple Lane School, the
+docile pupil coming to me with such winning grace.  I see the folded
+hands and downcast eyes even now; the mischievous little sprite that
+loved bewitching pranks; the gay young girl who, amid all the
+blandishments of wealth, still nobly cheering my way; the riper
+woman, with her noble heart, at last bowing at the foot of the cross,
+and pouring out its love on all around her.  These, Madeline, have
+been with me always--cheering, blessing, soothing."
+
+"All this, Roland, under the leading hand of a wondrous Providence,
+you have done; sometimes I was led away, but for what a short period!
+These early lessons are never forgotten; and even in England, where I
+was surrounded by so much more to tempt, my heart, true as the needle
+to the pole, turned back with all its freshness to those early
+memories and their teachings."
+
+Roland sat in silence for a moment, his heart filled with unutterable
+love--could it be duty to throw from him this gem of priceless worth,
+this young, warm, guileless woman's heart? and yet as a flash darted
+through his brain, the thought that would obtrude--as her guardian,
+acquainted with the extent of her possessions, might he not be
+thought selfish, mercenary?
+
+"And now you see, good sir, you are my grave and reverend guardian,
+and must know all about your ward," and Madeline flashed upon him one
+of her arch glances of mischief; "if a young lady has offers of
+marriage, I suppose that she ought to tell her guardian--is not that
+so?" and she continued, smiling, "and always ask his advice about
+such matters, for I have something of the kind to tell now."
+
+Roland dropped his eyes, and moved away from the young lady, lest she
+should see his emotion, and replied seriously, "I shall always be
+interested in whatever concerns you, Madeline, and will advise here,
+as elsewhere, truly, faithfully."
+
+"Well!  to begin--Harry Castleton is one of my devoted--he has
+offered himself three times, and has as often been refused; for you
+know, guardian, that I could never love him, but I am going to treat
+him better; I have made a good beginning; what do you think of him
+for Madeline?"
+
+"Think, Madeline!  I should never cease to mourn over such a
+union--it could never be."
+
+"Amen!" said Madeline, archly; "and then there was Mr. Livingston, of
+New York, that all the belles were dying for; a man of wealth, rank,
+fashion, and intelligence; not caring much for the gay world--what do
+you think of him?"
+
+"Did you love him, Madeline?"
+
+"No--not exactly; and I used to think it was very strange! he was so
+handsome and attractive! but what do you say about him?"
+
+"I could not approve of him either."
+
+"Why, guardian! you are grim, and hard to please--well! then there
+was Tony Willikins; poor Tony! when I was a wild young thing, I took
+a ride with Tony, and he asked me about his future establishment;
+about his house, his carriage, his grounds, his furniture; and I gave
+my opinion--well, to be sure! he built just such a house, ordered
+just such a carriage, and then came, and asked me to live in his
+house, and ride in his carriage.  I almost laughed in his face; and
+when I refused, he said that I had encouraged him, because I
+described the house, and recommended the carriage; I did not think
+that he was quite such a dunce, but I really felt sorry for Tony; I
+did not mean any harm--now, guardian, what do you think of Tony
+Willikins?"
+
+Roland smiled at the story, and replied,
+
+"I should object no more to this poor fellow with weak intellect, and
+affectionate heart, than I would to a rich brainless fop, without a
+heart."
+
+"When I went to England," and Madeline's face assumed a more serious,
+tender expression, "I was introduced to the family of the Earl of
+N----; it was all that a Christian family ought to be, and there I
+spent some of the happiest hours of my life.  I was domesticated in
+that household for many weeks, and became much attached to Lady
+Alice, the eldest daughter.  Lord N----, the eldest son, was a bright
+example of a young English noble; refined, intelligent, pious, and of
+an extremely prepossessing appearance; we were associated daily;
+Roland, he learned to love me with all the depth and tenderness of a
+true, manly nature.  I never knew an hour of deeper sorrow, than when
+compelled to say to that outburst of a warm affection, 'only
+friendship can I return;' now, guardian, what would you think of him?"
+
+They were sitting very near the edge of the shore, and as the waves
+washed up the sea-weed, Roland took up a bunch, and handing it to
+Madeline, said,
+
+"You remember these flowers of the ocean--how often have I gathered
+them for you?"
+
+"Remember them!" and Madeline opened a small pocket-book, from which
+she took a few faded weeds, "Ah! how often have these memorials
+spoken to me, Roland; once I placed them by the side of the splendid
+bouquet, that Lord N---- used to send me daily--and oh! the
+difference."
+
+"O, Madeline! dare I hope that the giver of these faded weeds was
+dearer than Lord N----, with all his grandeur and his goodness?"
+
+Madeline turned her deep expressive eyes upon Roland's face, as she
+replied, in trembling tones,
+
+"Nothing else could have made me insensible to the worth of Lord
+Alfred N----; these faded weeds, the sea-shells, the sketch I found
+once in the library, were more precious to me, more fondly cherished,
+than all the gifts of gold that have ever been laid at my feet."
+
+"Can such blessedness be mine? the wealth of such a heart?"
+
+"And mine, dear Roland! it seems too much of earthly good to know
+that you are all my own, not only as my friend, but my dearest,
+truest love."
+
+"And can you, with all your wealth and attractions, turn from so
+much, and give your heart to me?  I have not much to offer, Madeline;
+it is true that my dear friend, Uncle Malcolm, placed me above the
+reach of need, but nothing compared to the heiress of Woodcliff; I
+fear the judgment of your aunt; would that you were penniless."
+
+"I want nothing but yourself, Roland; only your pure and noble self;
+have we not loved each other always? and yet there was a time when I
+was afraid of Helen Thornly."
+
+"And when I was afraid of Lord N----; for I saw his worth, and his
+attractions, Madeline; and knew that you were with him daily while I
+was absent."
+
+"What would your father think of such a choice, Madeline?"
+
+"He was willing, in such a matter, to trust his daughter; dear, noble
+father! he respected you, Roland, always; and I believe, if he were
+living, he would smile upon us."
+
+"Look at me, darling!" said Roland, "let me see those dear eyes,
+those truthful, earnest eyes, just turned on me, as full of love and
+tenderness as in days gone by;" (for Madeline had dropped her head,
+and bent her eyes upon the ground.)
+
+She raised them to Roland's face, and in the deep look of perfect
+trust and tenderness, he saw what that hour had revealed to him.
+Taking both hands within his own, and looking up to heaven, he prayed
+that God would bless this sweet union of two young souls that had
+been so long as one.
+
+"This is a love, Madeline, which will stretch forward to eternity; it
+will be companionship on earth in all that is pure and holy, to be
+perfected in the world above."
+
+One sweet, pure caress, one fond kiss sealed this heart union; and
+taking her arm within his own, they turned their steps homeward.
+
+"Let us just listen for one moment to the music of the ocean, Roland;
+it is a grand old organ, with its deep, mysterious chords; it has
+murmured many solemn hymns for us, many a varied melody--sometimes
+gentle summer lullabies, sometimes wails like funeral dirges--what
+does it waft us to-night?"
+
+"Nothing but soft, sweet hymns of harmony, Maddy; bidding us praise
+our Father and our God."
+
+Old Peter had been watching the young people, in whom he was so much
+interested; he saw the deep-absorbing interest of that interview; the
+tender caress, and the slow step as they moved away, and he said to
+himself,
+
+"This is just what I thought would come of hoarding up old shoes.
+God bless them! they are a dear young pair, and deserve to be happy.
+What a handsome couple they will make!  And they are both so good!
+It puts me in mind of Becky and me in our young days," and the old
+man wiped a moistened eye with his rough coat-sleeve.
+
+Tea was long over when they reached home, but they wanted no supper;
+and Aunt Matilda was out of patience at the monosyllables which she
+received as answers, for both seemed wholly engrossed with each other.
+
+"Let us go to the library," whispered Madeline; and as they stood
+before the portrait of her father it seemed to look upon them, with
+all the benignity of expression that dwelt upon the face of Mr.
+Hamilton.
+
+"It smiles upon us, Roland! does it not?  I know my dear father too
+well not to be assured that he would bless us; let us kneel before
+his picture;" and as they bowed solemnly in the library, Roland
+poured out his heart in earnest, fervent prayer, for God's choicest
+blessings upon them both.
+
+After an evening spent in happy converse, the hour of separation came
+too soon.
+
+"Let us listen to the Eolian to-night, Roland;" and Madeline led him
+to the stair-case; standing there together, it discoursed soft, sweet
+strains, for the evening was balmy and pleasant, and the wind fanned
+gentle breezes among the foliage of Woodcliff.
+
+"How soft! how sweet, Roland, the harp is to-night! it seems to
+breathe only of happiness and peace; sometimes it has been so wild,
+so sad, when I have been in trouble!  I wonder if it does not just
+echo the voice within."
+
+"Doubtless it is so, Madeline; to-night the serenade is very sweet;
+if the fairies play among the strings, they must know all about us,
+dear."
+
+"It is a pretty fancy, and cannot harm us, Roland; I don't believe
+it, you know; but then there are many things I don't believe which it
+is pleasant to think about."
+
+"You must be careful, dear, in these flights of fancy, that they do
+not depart from truth."
+
+"Well then, Roland, we will banish the fairies, though they were long
+the friends of my childhood, and substitute the good, real angels,
+and think that the sweet music is mingled with theirs."
+
+"Good-night, Madeline, may they guard your slumbers;" and Roland
+clasped the little hand fondly, and impressed the kiss of pure
+affection upon the fair young brow.
+
+Madeline's dreams were pure and holy that night, for was she not the
+chosen companion of the man whom she most loved and honored on earth?
+
+Next morning, she acquainted her aunt with what had taken place.  She
+was not surprised, but deeply disappointed.
+
+"I cannot understand you, Madeline, to reject such a man as Lord
+N----, and to choose one so low-born, so obscure as Roland Bruce; but
+you must have your own way; you were always a wilful child!"
+
+"You will learn to think differently some day, aunty; when you know
+Roland, you will find out true nobility."
+
+"Next Sunday will be our communion day, Roland; you will stay, can't
+you?" said Madeline.
+
+"I will try; by writing a few lines, I can be spared that long."
+
+There were but few as yet gathered into that little fold; but it was
+a blessed hour, when the two bowed together at the table of their
+Master, and consecrated their united lives to his holy service.
+
+There had been a parlor organ hired for their little church, and as
+they together joined in the high praises of the Trisagion, their
+spirits seemed to soar beyond the things of time and sense, and to
+prostrate themselves together before the throne of God and the Lamb.
+
+"This is living," said Roland, as they walked homeward together;
+"loving God supremely, and each other fondly, for Jesus' sake, with
+the sweet hope of eternal union, when the cares and sorrows of life
+are ended; this is living, Madeline.  God is love, and is best
+pleased when his creatures are most like him."
+
+"I used to think, Roland, that it was a sin for mortals to love each
+other, and it once troubled me sorely, when I began to think of
+becoming a Christian."
+
+"Just study the life of Christ, dear, and the teachings of the
+disciple whom Jesus loved the best, the loving John; his epistles are
+full of heavenly love, and you will never make that mistake again;
+for remember, that he teaches the duty of the highest exercise of
+Christian love, when he says, 'That we ought to lay down our lives
+for the heathen.'"
+
+"How that view draws us to the blessed Saviour!  How different from
+the teachings of those who would represent God as seated far away,
+upon the throne of the Universe, forbidding the approach of his
+erring children."
+
+"Always think of God, Madeline, as a loving Father, whom you may
+always approach to plead the merits of his Son; he is ever ready to
+look upon you graciously in the face of Jesus, our Redeemer."
+
+"What precious hopes, dear Roland, does the gospel hold out to us!
+union with Christ forever, and intimate soul-union with each other in
+a world where there can be no change, no parting, no decay."
+
+"Let us bless him, dearest Madeline, for these holy hopes, and show
+that we love him, by lives devoted to his service; by-the-bye, do you
+know that I begin to like your service better than our own? so much
+that is sublime is taught by its offices.  It seems to be an echo of
+the voice within.  How lofty is the language of the Trisagion!  I
+could almost have imagined the worship of the spirits before the
+throne, crying 'Holy!  Holy!  Holy!' and could look forward to that
+time, when, as disembodied spirits, we shall join with those who have
+gone before; with patriarchs, and prophets; with martyrs, and
+apostles; with 'the spirits of the just made perfect;' with my
+mother, Effie, and your own dear father, in praising the God who has
+brought us safely home."
+
+"I am glad that you feel so, Roland, for I have decided preferences
+for my own forms of worship; though I can hold communion with
+Christians of every name, who truly love my Master."
+
+Monday morning came, and with it, return to daily cares and duties.
+
+"Madeline, I brought old Peter a warm over-coat for winter, one that
+I have done with; I forgot to say anything about it that evening;"
+and Roland smiled.
+
+"And I forgot a Bible with large print, and a pair of good
+spectacles; I had them with me, but I forgot them too."
+
+"I hope that we may be excused this time, Madeline; our hearts were
+engrossed by each other.  Farewell, dearest, write daily," continued
+Roland, "or rather keep a journal, and send it to me twice a week; I
+want to know everything about you, where you go; all that you think
+and feel are precious to me now."
+
+Madeline blushed rosy red, as she found herself folded in a warm
+embrace, and returned modestly the kiss of affection which was
+pressed upon her lips.
+
+"Pray for me, Roland, every day and every night; we can meet there,
+dearest;" and Madeline stood upon the piazza watching him as long as
+she could see him, and returned the wave of the hand, ere she
+retraced her steps back to the library.
+
+Letters from Lady Alice had just reached Woodcliff; for Madeline had
+been in constant correspondence with her valued English friends.
+They were particularly welcome, for in one was announced the
+approaching marriage of Lady Alice to Lord Elmore, and several hints
+about Lady Lucy Hampton and her brother Alfred; concluding with a
+warm invitation to make a bridal visit to England.
+
+On Roland's next visit, he brought a warm letter from good Uncle
+Malcolm, congratulating him on his prospects of domestic happiness,
+and insisting on a visit immediately after his marriage.
+
+"I do not think it at all improbable, Madeline, for I have business
+which calls me to Scotland," said the young man.
+
+Mr. Bruce was expected daily, and Madeline obtained a promise that
+his first visit in America should be to Woodcliff.
+
+In a few days he landed at New York, and met with a warm welcome from
+his son.
+
+"Are you really glad to see me, Roland?" asked the poor man, as he
+looked up in his face with a sad, wistful expression.
+
+"I am really glad, my father; I have a carriage ready for you, and
+bright, pleasant rooms."
+
+No pains were spared to make him happy, and under the wise,
+affectionate treatment of his son, Mr. Bruce really seemed to be
+losing much of that sad and moody state of mind which had so long
+afflicted him.  As soon as he could be prevailed upon to go, Roland
+took him to Woodcliff, and introduced him to his intended
+daughter-in-law.
+
+Madeline received him with a warm, affectionate welcome; and although
+shy at first, under the influence of her kind manners and sweet
+music, he became daily more social and tranquil.
+
+After singing several hymns to please him, he walked up to Madeline,
+and laying his hand upon her head, he said,--
+
+"Thank ye, my dear, ye hae ta'en a deal o' trouble to please an auld
+mon--ye are to be my daughter, are ye na!" and stooping down, he
+pushed back the rich folds of hair, to look more earnestly on her
+sweet young face, and then kissed the pure, calm forehead.
+
+"I will try to make you a good daughter, sir," and she kissed the
+withered hand that was held out to her.  From this time, quite an
+intimacy sprang up between the two, for the music had driven away the
+evil spirit for a time.
+
+"She is vera luvely, Roland, amaist as luvely as yer mither was at
+her age--be kind to her, my boy; ne'er suspect yer wife; but be sure
+that ye hae her heart--are ye sure o' that, Roland!"
+
+"Yes, father, she has never loved any one else, she is all my own!"
+
+"Happy son! happy Roland!" whispered Stephen, as he took his son's
+arm, to walk out on the piazza.
+
+As Madeline took leave of the old man, she said,
+
+"You will come again, dear sir, will you not?"
+
+"Yes, my child, this hae been a pleasant visit; ye are guid an' kind,
+an' I luve ye, my daughter."
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+Aunt Clara is on a visit to Woodcliff, and finds her most sanguine
+hopes realized in what she sees of Madeline's daily walks of
+usefulness, and many a time, with tearful eyes, exclaims,
+
+"What hath God wrought!"
+
+"Aunt Clara, I have been thinking a great deal about the men here;
+there is a very large number among the factories, and in the cottages
+of the fishermen.  They very seldom come to our Sunday services, but
+waste their vacant time in lounging about idly, and in drinking what
+they have earned through the week.  I have thought of a reading-room
+where we could supply good reading for the evenings, and keep them
+away from bad company; but I don't know how to go about it; I cannot
+go among men, that would not be exactly feminine, and I cannot bear
+all the expense myself."
+
+"Would it not be well, Madeline, first to bring the matter before
+some of the gentlemen of the neighborhood?"
+
+"That is exactly the way, Aunt Clara; I'll send for Roland, he shall
+make the speech--I'll give notice in the Sunday-school, and then I'll
+send notices around to the principal gentlemen, to meet at the
+Sunday-school room."
+
+Madeline was full of her new plan, and put it into practice
+immediately--notifying the Sunday-school, sending for Roland, and
+canvassing the neighborhood thoroughly, by means of the messengers.
+Ten days were allowed to prepare for the meeting; she talked about it
+in the Sunday-school eagerly, for the ungodliness of the men was
+sorely distressing to her benevolent spirit.
+
+Roland came--the evening arrived, the room was lighted early, and
+Madeline watched eagerly for an audience.  A few strolled in, some of
+the mothers of the children, some of the young ladies, and a few of
+the children's fathers; but this was not what Madeline wanted--it was
+nearly eight o'clock, and but two gentlemen, one the old minister of
+Roland's church, the other, a gentleman somewhat interested in the
+morals of the neighborhood.  After a while, a half dozen more came,
+then three or four more, until about one dozen were present; at last,
+quite a party of young ladies and gentlemen took their seats, and the
+meeting commenced.
+
+Roland had acquainted Mr. Stewart with the object of the meeting, and
+requested him to state it to the audience, and open the exercises
+with prayer.  Interest had brought but few, curiosity the larger
+number.
+
+After the opening exercises, Roland arose.  His name had not been
+announced; but while he spoke, the rich, manly voice, and quiet
+dignity of manner at once enchained attention; and as he proceeded to
+describe the wants of the neighborhood, and the necessity of some
+efforts by which to benefit the working classes, gradually his manner
+increased in warmth; and when he alluded to the days when as a boy
+athirst for knowledge, he had sat on these benches, and had often
+longed for the use of a well-assorted library, there was a general
+buzzing among the young people.
+
+"Who can it be?" said Minnie Smith.
+
+"Why, don't you remember Roland Bruce?" replied Lizzie Belton.
+
+"It cannot be possible--that elegant looking man, Roland Bruce! then
+such a speaker!  I can't believe the evidence of my own senses."
+
+"I know his eye, Minnie, I knew him as soon as I looked at him--I
+heard the other day that he is quite a distinguished lawyer in New
+York."
+
+"Well, dear me! who ever could have believed it?"
+
+"Why, Madeline Hamilton believed it--or else she never would have
+taken so much interest in him--proud minx! she always said that he'd
+be a great man yet."
+
+"Let us listen, Lizzie, we are losing his speech;" and the young
+girls stopped talking, to listen to his eloquence.  He represented
+the wants of the working man, said he had an intellect demanding
+food, as well as a body; that he had a right to both; he believed
+that many might be reclaimed and elevated, if those more favored
+would lend a helping hand, and recognise the one great fact of
+brotherhood--on this he spoke feelingly, for he had felt deeply.  In
+glowing words, he enlarged upon the advantages of useful reading,
+appealed to those who employed these men; and asked if they would not
+make better workmen, more faithful laborers, more moral and
+intelligent, if conscious that there were hands stretched out,
+saying, "Come my brother, I will help you."
+
+All listened respectfully; and at the close, the gentlemen present
+contributed something, those of large means liberally, and Madeline
+had the pleasure of seeing her scheme likely to prosper.  After all
+had subscribed, "M. H----" modestly added one hundred dollars to the
+list.  "Who is he?  Who is he?" was the question whispered all round
+when the meeting was over.
+
+"A young man by the name of Bruce, I think," was the reply of Mr.
+Belton.
+
+"I can tell you, gentlemen," said Mr. Stewart, his former minister;
+"he was once a boy in the Sunday-school of my church, and a member of
+Maple Lane School, very poor, very humble, but an excellent son, a
+devoted brother, an earnest Christian, with bright talents, all
+exercised for his Master.  He is a child of Providence, gentlemen,
+raised to what he is by a blessing upon a mother's piety and manly
+trust in God."
+
+Several went forward, and shook him warmly by the hand.
+
+"We are proud of our Maple Lane boy, sir; your minister has told us
+something of your history."
+
+Lizzie Belton and Minnie Smith looked quite abashed, hiding their
+faces as Madeline proudly took Roland's arm, and left the room.  As
+soon as they were out of hearing, she exclaimed--
+
+"There, Roland, don't say that I am not a prophetess; I knew the day
+would come when you'd make these silly upstarts feel ashamed of
+themselves.  I felt proud of you to-night, Roland, for I saw that
+they were mortified as soon as they knew who it was.  I suppose that
+they would like to obtain the notice of Roland Bruce now."
+
+"Madeline, is not this very much of the old leaven?"
+
+"Yes, I suppose it is, guardian; but it was in this very room where
+they used to be so mean, and I could not help the feeling.  They have
+heard you make your speech in Maple Lane School, and it did some
+good, too; I am thankful for that.  Now I'm going to prophesy a
+little more--don't shake your wise head, good sir, at my
+folly--you'll be an 'Honorable' yet.  I expect to address letters to
+the 'Honorable Roland Bruce, U.S. Senate.'"
+
+Roland burst out laughing.
+
+"Of all the scheming little heads that ever sat upon the shoulders of
+a woman, yours exceeds.  What possesses you, Madeline?" and Roland
+laughed again most heartily; "how can you ever dream of such a thing?
+I shall never be a politician."
+
+"No, I know that, I should be very sorry for that; but worth and
+talent sometimes meets its reward, even here."
+
+"Madeline, I have but one ambition,--to serve my God faithfully in
+whatever station he appoints, and to walk hand in hand with one of
+the purest and loveliest of God's creatures in the path that leads us
+home to Heaven."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+BEATITUDES.
+
+A mariner on the broad, mysterious ocean is sailing homeward; he has
+encountered many fearful storms, laid by wearily in exhausting calms,
+and steered safely amid rocks and shoals, with the blessed haven
+still in sight of faith's eyeglass.  He is nearing home; chart and
+compass awaken a thrill of hope and love, as they point so surely to
+the same familiar outline of approaching land.  A small speck, as of
+a distant star, is gleaming on him through the atmosphere; sometimes
+very faint, then brighter, clearer, fuller, until the beacon of the
+light-house, with the steady brilliancy of a small, well-defined orb,
+speaks to his heart the one sweet word of "Home."
+
+He speeds on swiftly, steadily, with canvas spread to the breeze, and
+finds himself anchored at last in quiet waters, waiting for the pilot
+to take him into port.  The vessel lies peacefully upon the rippling
+waves, the air is scarcely moving, the sails flap lazily, and the
+scream of the sea-bird is exchanged for the softer melodies of birds
+nearer land, as they fly low with their song of welcome.  The sails
+are now taken in, and the sailors are singing songs of home; the air
+is full of music, for the murmurs of the gentle waves, the light
+spray dashing slowly against the sides of the vessel, whose rocking
+lullaby is scarcely perceptible--all murmur harmonious notes to the
+hearts of the weary, home-sick mariners; the captain, assured that
+"all's well," goes below to dream of home, of clasping arms, warm
+kisses, and words of holy love.  They have reached the latitude of a
+seaman's blessedness, "near home."  Thus far, too, has Roland sailed
+upon the voyage of life; his bark has ridden safely through storm and
+calm, through rock and shoal, with the beacon light of faith and hope
+always shining bright above him, and looking thus steadily aloft, he,
+too, has reached the quiet waters of the "Beatitudes."  He reads much
+in that sweet chapter of "the sermon on the mount," and, from the
+depths of a blissful experience, feels what Jesus means when he
+pronounces the word "blessed" upon the children of his love.
+
+"_Blessed_ are the poor in spirit, for theirs _is_ the kingdom of
+heaven."
+
+The poor before God--has he not realized the blessedness of that
+kingdom, which is joy, and peace, and love in the Holy Ghost?  He
+loves to dwell separately on these beatitudes; as the miser lingers
+over the "unrighteous mammon," so Roland muses over his heavenly
+treasures, fearful lest one should fade away from the grasp of faith.
+
+"Blessed are the meek," says our dear Lord, "for they shall inherit
+the earth."
+
+The meek--those contented with their earthly lot, only anxious for
+the favor of God--they shall truly inherit the earth now with their
+spirit of contentment, and hereafter, in the days of millennial
+glory, when the saints shall truly possess the renovated earth--and
+with his spiritual growth hath not the Master blessed Roland in
+basket and in store? and even if he had not, would not the spirit of
+humble piety be to him a richer boon than the wealth of the Indies?
+
+He has reached these quiet waters, and dwells among the regions of
+the "Beatitudes."  Is not Roland happy? and may not all who thus cast
+themselves upon the good providence of God, while steadily pursuing
+duty, be equally blessed?  Jesus' words have meaning; let us prove
+their power.
+
+Roland is the same active, energetic, earnest man, rising daily in
+public estimation, while seeking only the favor of God.  Days of
+deeper trial may yet come, but God in his wisdom chooses their time.
+While walking in the footsteps of Daniel, nought is needed but the
+discipline of Daniel.
+
+"Do you know, Roland, that they are talking of you for the
+Legislature?"
+
+The question was addressed to him by Edmund Norris, who was greatly
+interested in his friend's success.
+
+"Nonsense, Edmund!" was the reply; "I should never please the
+politicians.  I am no party man, and would never stoop to the tricks
+of men in office."
+
+"There is really a chance for you, Roland, and I don't see why
+corrupt men are to be allowed always to rule the land.  I think
+high-minded, honorable men are greatly to blame for not taking more
+interest in public affairs; they could do much towards purifying our
+halls of legislature, as well as our courts of justice."
+
+"I have plenty to do here in my private walk, Edmund, and can thus
+exercise a silent influence among my fellow-men."
+
+In a few days, Roland found that all was not merely Edmund's talk,
+for a party of gentlemen waited upon him to see if he would allow his
+name to be used in the next election.  He listened quietly to their
+propositions.
+
+"What do you expect, gentlemen, of your representative?"
+
+"That he would by all measures advance the prosperity of his State."
+
+Roland smiled, saying--
+
+"According to the views of a certain party."
+
+"Certainly; he is bound to represent those who send him."
+
+"Then I suppose that he is expected to attend to many little matters
+of private interest; that is frequently attended with much trouble.
+What will he receive for such offices?"
+
+"He may pocket many a cool five hundred in this way, if he is only
+accommodating."
+
+"Supposing that his judgment and conscience should both be opposed to
+the views of his constituents on some points, what would be expected?"
+
+"That he would waive such inconvenient things in the way of politics,
+and always consult the interest of his party."
+
+"Then you expect him, in a free country, to give up his own
+independence.  Is that so, gentlemen?"
+
+"Of course--he cannot be a public man, and preserve that.  The
+independence of a politician is only read in the Constitution of the
+land; it has no real existence--he has sold it."
+
+"Then, farewell, gentlemen--I am a foreigner by birth, but an
+American by choice.  I revere the men who framed our Constitution,
+and am willing to be guided by its noble teachings.  I cannot consent
+to your proposition of making it a dead letter in my case, nor can I
+surrender the inestimable rights of manhood.  I thank God for my
+conscience, and my judgment; I will not hoodwink the one, nor act
+against the dictates of the other.  I am a _freeman_.  If ever I fill
+a public station, it will be as an independent man, to advance the
+right, the just, the true only.  I am not your man; I would be of no
+earthly use to individuals--the 'cool five hundred' cannot buy me."
+
+"We are sorry, Mr. Bruce," replied the speaker; "with your talents,
+you could reach any post of honor that you choose; but with your
+romantic notions, you are throwing away a golden opportunity."
+
+"This would be no post of honor to me, gentlemen; there are others
+more private, more influential, that involve no sacrifice of
+principle; I have chosen such, and have the sweet approval of my
+conscience; I cannot barter that for any earthly good," and he laid
+his hand impressively upon his heart.
+
+"We honor your integrity, but it will not do in a world like
+ours--good-morning, sir."
+
+"Good-morning, gentlemen--God is wiser than man, and by his laws will
+I be governed."
+
+Edmund was disappointed at the result of this interview.
+
+"And so you rejected the offers that I spoke of, Roland; I think that
+you carry your high-flown notions too far--you might easily have
+accepted such a position, and not have compromised your principles in
+the least."
+
+"We differ in sentiment, Edmund; and the day will come, when you will
+agree with me--experience is a great teacher."
+
+"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God."  This
+beatitude spoke volumes to Roland that night, as he sank to quiet
+slumbers; for peace soon follows sacrifice.
+
+In the exercise of Christian principles, Roland was a happy,
+prosperous man, for wealth smiled upon him in the daily increase of
+his practice; and though he occupied no place of public trust, he was
+much more honored in the omission than in the gift.
+
+* * * * * *
+
+Madeline is now in New York, whither she has been called on important
+business.
+
+"Shall we take a sail this evening?" asked Roland.
+
+"Nothing would be more pleasant; let us go early, and return by
+moonlight."
+
+The sail on the quiet waters of the bay was one of those periods of
+heart communion which are among the purest joys of earthly
+intercourse.
+
+The world shut out; the low whispers of this evening hour, as they
+sat apart, indicated the deep feelings of each young heart.
+
+They sat watching the passing vessels, some sailing out, others
+coming in from the sea; craft of all kinds and sizes gliding by them
+so gently, all containing pilgrims on the waters of life.
+
+"Roland, do you ever think how much these little boats resemble the
+voyagers of mortality?"
+
+"Yes, Madeline, all bound to the ocean of eternity; we are sailing
+with them, dearest--it seems very sweet and peaceful--what a sad
+thought that so many may be speeding on the voyage which ends in a
+fearful wreck at last!"
+
+"How blessed are we, dear Roland, to feel that our little barks are
+guided by a gracious hand! for we know who steers them on so safely."
+
+"Do you realize the presence of that precious Saviour, Madeline?  I
+have been lately studying the sermon on the mount; have you ever
+thought, dear, of the full meaning of the Saviour's word, 'blessed?'"
+
+"And I have been reading in the same, dear Roland; and think that I
+am learning, slowly, the meaning of those precious 'beatitudes'--as I
+bend at my daily devotions, and read the holy book; as I walk among
+my poor dependents in the green lanes at Woodcliff, or worship in the
+school-room of Maple Lane, I feel the murmured benediction, and know
+now what Jesus means, when he says those precious words, 'blessed'
+are they who exercise these holy emotions."
+
+Roland sat in silence for a few moments, and then continued,
+
+"Our little barks are now in quiet waters, dearest--why should they
+be any longer separated? or rather when shall we occupy the same
+vessel, and sail together on the same stream?" and Roland took the
+little hand within his own, and listened for the answer.
+
+She smiled archly, as she replied,
+
+"Our present life is very happy, Roland; the married people say that
+these are the happiest days--why then should we wish to bring them to
+a close so soon?"
+
+"Do you really think so, Madeline?" said Roland, as she turned away
+to hide her blushes, "do you believe any such thing? don't you know
+that we would both be happier were our destinies united? and then,
+dearest, remember, that I have no home,--a parlor and two rooms are
+not home, Madeline.  I brought you here this afternoon just to ask,
+how much longer must I go alone?"
+
+"It is a shame to tease you, Roland, but the old feeling of mischief
+is very tempting--now, I suppose, that you want to bring my liberty
+to an end; to put aside the lover, with his sweet whispered words,
+and to begin the husband, with his tones of authority.  'Madam, I
+wish it so,' and 'Madam, you must not do this,' and 'Madam, you must
+not do that;' is it not so, Roland?"
+
+He understood the little artifice, by which she evaded an answer, and
+smiled again, as he replied,
+
+"You are afraid of no such thing, Madeline; you know your power, and
+the deep love that fills my heart; do not trifle when I want a
+serious answer."
+
+She laid her little hand quietly within the grasp of the strong, firm
+man, and said,
+
+"Take me, Roland, I am yours for life--through weal and woe, in
+sickness and in health, until death us do part."
+
+The moment of levity had passed.
+
+"When shall I call you mine?"
+
+"In two months from to-day, Roland; will that suffice, dearest?"
+
+"Why should it be two months?  I cannot understand what you ladies
+have to do--what is the use of such an extensive wardrobe?  It is
+just as easily made up afterwards.  I could be ready in a day,
+Madeline."
+
+"And you really would deprive me, Roland, of a young bride's
+pleasure--it is such a joy to prepare a wedding trousseau!"
+
+"You don't think so, Madeline, for I know no one who cares so little
+for the fripperies of dress as you--now what is the reason for delay?"
+
+"To be serious then, Roland; Aunt Matilda has some peculiar notions
+about these matters; and since I have not pleased her altogether in
+my choice, I think it is due to her to consult her wishes in this one
+thing--she would never hear to any thing else, I know."
+
+"Well, then! be it so--two months from to-day; that is the decision."
+
+The spirit of mischief returned.
+
+"Don't you pity the poor thing, with the proud spirit, giving herself
+away to such a grand Mogul, with all his strict notions of right and
+wrong?  I am afraid that she will beat her wings against the bars of
+her cage."
+
+"Do you really fear the bonds of matrimony, Madeline?"
+
+"With you, dearest? no--you may lead me where you will; for I know
+that it will always be in paths of holiness and love."
+
+"Here then is the token of our union!" and Roland placed upon her
+finger the ring of betrothal, and then kissed the dear hand that lay
+so confidingly clasped in his.
+
+"Now, Madeline, I have something to show you; it is too dark to read
+it now, but I can tell you what it is.  I want you only--Madeline,
+without her dowry; she only is the object of my love.  I have drawn
+up this document, in which all your estate is secured to yourself
+forever; so that I can be wholly cleared from any suspicions of
+sordid motives--your wealth has always been a drawback, and long
+withheld me from seeking your hand."
+
+"And do you think, Roland Bruce, that I would marry a man whom I
+could not trust with everything that is mine?  What! separate
+interests between man and wife! are we not one, Roland? one in love,
+in hope, in pursuits, one in the hopes of a better world; and shall
+we not be one in all things pertaining to this mortal life?  No,
+Roland--what is mine, is yours--yours to direct, to manage, to
+control--we are one in all things, Roland, I will hear to nothing
+else; I do not want to read that paper; I am blushing while I think
+of it."
+
+Roland was silent a moment, from the depth of his emotions.
+
+"Your confidence shall never be abused, my own precious Madeline; we
+will try to use these gifts as stewards for our Master, and I feel
+assured that he will bless us."
+
+The return home was full of sweet reflections; for amid the music
+that swelled, and then died away from passing pleasure boats, there
+came a voice over the quiet waters, which pronounced them "blessed,"
+and they heard its blissful whispers.
+
+We will leave them to this hour that comes but once in mortal life;
+and will not anticipate the discipline that must purge away the
+remaining dross of imperfect human character, until presented
+faultless before the throne of God.
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+Aunt Matilda resigns herself to the necessity of such a marriage, and
+busies herself in the preparations, for she is determined that there
+shall be a grand wedding at Woodcliff.  There is much to do, for the
+young pair are to sail for Europe immediately after their marriage.
+Lavinia Raymond is shocked at such a degradation, and declares that
+neither she nor her mother will countenance such a sacrifice by their
+presence; Harry Castleton and Charles Davenport are disgusted when
+they hear of their new cousin, and several young ladies around
+Woodcliff utterly surprised.
+
+"It may do for Madeline Hamilton to take such a step, she can afford
+it," said Lizzie Belton; "but for any of us, we should lose caste at
+once."
+
+The wedding day arrived.  It was a bright and beautiful morning in
+the month of May.  Madeline arose early, and sat quietly at her
+chamber window looking out upon the beauteous prospect;--all creation
+smiled; so felt the young girl--the birds carolled their sweetest
+songs around the window; flowers bloomed everywhere in rich
+abundance; the sky was clear, for but a few fleecy clouds floated
+over the landscape.
+
+"This is my wedding day," whispered Madeline, "would that my dear
+father were here to bless his daughter; but he is in a better land,
+where there is neither marrying nor giving in marriage."
+
+She bowed her head, and prayed in solemn silence for herself, and for
+him who was henceforth to be her partner in the journey of life; and
+after the sweet hour of communion with God, descended to the
+breakfast room; the only marks of emotion visible, the blushing
+cheek, quivering lip, and dewy eyes.  George Stanley and Helen
+Thornly, with Edmund Norris and Lucy Edmunds, acted as groomsmen and
+bridesmaids.
+
+We need not say that the bride was lovely, nor the groom imposing in
+his appearance--a full flowing dress of white satin, and a cloud of
+exquisite lace, through which gleamed diamonds and orange blossoms,
+enveloped the fair bride.
+
+The Bishop of the diocese officiated; for as yet, there was no
+minister settled in the neighborhood.  It was no empty ceremony of
+mere show for Madeline--she would have prefered a more quiet
+wedding--but almost unconscious of the presence of so many, she took
+her solemn vow before God.  A sweet smile of happiness played around
+her mouth, bright rose-tints shone through the bridal veil, and the
+eyes, when raised to her husband's face, expressed pure and holy
+confidence, with perfect love.  Roland's deportment was calm,
+dignified, reverential--he looked upon the fair being at his side, as
+one committed to his love by God himself, and deeply solemn were the
+vows made on that day, before the marriage altar.
+
+Madeline's first glance was for Roland's father, who was standing
+near.
+
+"Bring him here, Roland."  She took the pale hand, and presented her
+cheek to him, saying,
+
+"Love me, dear father, you have a daughter now;" and Stephen Bruce
+looked down upon the fair face and smiled sadly, as he replied,
+
+"Be happy, my dear children, happier than I hae been."
+
+George Stanley was to be ordained in the autumn; and the married pair
+looked on quietly, pleased on seeing so many indications of an
+incipient attachment between the young man and their friend Helen.
+
+"Would it not be pleasant, Roland," said the young wife, "to have
+them near us, George for our minister, and Helen for the pastor's
+wife?"
+
+"I suppose, dear, that we are for marrying all good people; but
+seriously, I do believe that my friend George is deeply interested in
+our little Helen."
+
+Laying aside her wedding-dress, they met at the supper table as a
+social family party; and after tea, Madeline ringing a bell, summoned
+the household to the library.
+
+Roland took his place at the table as head of the family, and with a
+serious, manly voice, addressed a few words to those present; then
+reverently read a chapter in the Bible, making a few serious
+remarks,--Madeline led the singing with the accompaniment of a parlor
+organ, and Roland closed the service by an earnest, fervent prayer.
+
+Returning to the drawing-room, Madeline excused herself a moment, and
+leading her husband to the landing at the head of the stairs, she
+said,--
+
+"I want to hear what the Eolian says on our wedding-day, Roland--how
+soft! how peaceful are its murmurs, dear!"
+
+"Yes, Madeline--the air itself is very soothing, and then our
+feelings of calm and tranquil blessedness are reproduced on the sweet
+harp."
+
+"I am a little more fanciful than you, dear--I must believe in the
+ministry of angels; you know, Roland, that we are told that they are
+ministering spirits, and that they encamp around the dwellings of the
+righteous.  I believe, dear, in your prayer to-night, that you
+invoked their presence; it is a sweet fancy that they may breathe
+upon these chords of unearthly music."
+
+"If so, Madeline, they are discoursing charmingly to-night--for I can
+imagine nothing in this weird music, with its mysterious strains, but
+sounds of peace, and joy, and love."
+
+The only drawback to their happiness was the thought of leaving old
+Mr. Bruce behind them; but a knowledge of his sorrows had interested
+Aunt Matilda, and her kind heart led her to promise to take good care
+of the old gentleman.
+
+He seemed quite pleased with the idea of living in the country;
+Roland left a number of charges with him, and it was a grateful
+thought that he could be useful to his son.
+
+Susan Grant was appointed teacher of Madeline's little school; and
+old Mr. Bruce spent his evenings generally at the reading-rooms,
+acting as librarian.
+
+Accompanied by Stanley and Helen, they reached New York; taking leave
+of them, they sailed in the first steamer for Liverpool; and, after a
+quick passage across the ocean, reached their destined port.
+Hurrying on, they found themselves in the great metropolis of
+England; the Earl of N---- was out of town; anxious to see her
+friends, Madeline made no stay in London, but proceeded directly to
+Parkhurst.
+
+Their journey was through a charming country, at a most lovely season
+of the year, when spring flowers were abundant; the hawthorn hedges
+in full bloom; and all nature rejoicing in the fresh green of a
+spring-time in England.
+
+Madeline's emotions were rather embarrassing as she drew near to
+Parkhurst; and when the porter at the lodge opened the gate, and she
+found herself really driving up the avenue, her emotion was visible.
+
+Roland smiled as he read the speaking face; and taking her hand, he
+said,
+
+"Madeline, you are trembling."
+
+"Yes, Roland; I am thinking of the last evening I spent here; it is
+nearly three years ago, and I dare say that it is all forgotten; but
+these scenes revive the memory most powerfully."
+
+Arriving at the manor-house, their names were sent up; and, in
+another minute, the Lady Alice came running in to greet her beloved
+friend.
+
+"Welcome, dearest Madeline!  I have been so sure that you would
+come;" and she embraced the young bride with the warmth of old
+friendship.
+
+"My husband, Lady Alice;" and Roland bowed to the noble lady, with
+all the grace of courtly ease.
+
+"You are welcome to Parkhurst, Mr. Bruce, for Madeline's sake."
+
+"How came you here, Lady Alice!  I supposed that you were married ere
+this."
+
+"I have been a wife, Madeline, six weeks, and am now making a visit
+to my mother; you will see Lord Elmore at dinner;" ringing the bell,
+she called a servant, directing him to show the visitors to the room
+which she pointed out.
+
+Madeline ran to the window to look out upon the familiar objects; the
+same gentle deer, the cawing of the dear old rooks, the bloom of the
+same sweet flowers, and the deep shade of the same old trees, just
+seemed as if she had left them but yesterday.
+
+"Is it not charming, Roland?" said the young wife, "and then, when
+you see the dear family, you will not wonder that I call this happy
+home another Eden."
+
+Descending to the drawing-room, the countess was there ready to
+receive them.
+
+"And so, Madeline, my love, you come to us as a bride," was the warm
+salutation, as she kissed the blushing cheek, and then turned
+gracefully to greet her husband.
+
+"You have obtained a prize, my dear sir; I hope that you will cherish
+her tenderly."
+
+Roland bowed over the fair hand, as he replied,
+
+"I believe, my lady, that I know her value."
+
+The hour for dinner arrived; the earl gave them a hearty welcome; and
+Lord Frederic, who was now a fine young man, received them with all
+due courtesy.
+
+"Where is Lord N----?" thought Madeline, but she did not ask.
+
+"My brother is out riding with Lady Lucy; we expect them every
+minute," said his sister; "and now, Madeline, let me introduce you to
+my husband, Lord Elmore;" and a pleasant-looking young man, with a
+quiet face of goodness, bowed in return to the smile of Madeline.
+
+In a short time, Lord N---- entered, with the Lady Lucy leaning upon
+his arm; he was taken by surprise, blushed slightly, but advancing to
+Madeline, he said,
+
+"Lady Lucy, allow me to introduce you to our friend, Mrs. Bruce,
+formerly Miss Hamilton, of whom you have heard me so often speak."
+
+The young lady, with a very sweet smile and blush, extended her hand
+to the married pair.
+
+Seated at the table, the conversation became general.  Lord N---- was
+polite, kind, friendly to Madeline; but it was plain that the gentle
+Lady Lucy engrossed all the more tender attentions.
+
+"How long since you were married, Mrs. Bruce?" asked Lord N----.
+
+"About five weeks, my lord; we left Woodcliff immediately, and are on
+our way to Scotland."
+
+"You will pay us a visit, dear Madeline," said the Lady Alice, "ere
+you go further; I shall hear no denials."
+
+Madeline looked towards her husband.
+
+"Can we spare the time, Mr. Bruce?"
+
+"I think so; we are not to be hurried in our movements."
+
+After dinner, Lord N---- uncovered the harp; and leading Madeline
+forward, said,
+
+"I have heard no such strains as you produced ever since you left us,
+Mrs. Bruce; you will favor us this evening."
+
+"Most gladly, my lord; have you any choice?"
+
+"None at all; all your music is charming."
+
+Lady Lucy sat near the harp, for she was enraptured with the
+performer, and no less with the sweet strains produced by Madeline's
+dainty fingers, as they wandered so gracefully among the harp-strings.
+
+"I wish that I could play as you do, Mrs. Bruce; Lord N---- is so
+passionately fond of music; I am trying to learn, and hope that I
+shall succeed."
+
+"Do you understand the piano, Lady Lucy?"
+
+"I think that I do."
+
+"Then there will only be the difficulty of learning how to manage the
+instrument, which will require diligent practice: will you not play a
+piece?"
+
+With unaffected ease, she took her seat, and played with much taste a
+simple little air, and turning around, artlessly, to Madeline, said,
+
+"Do you think it worth while for me to learn?"
+
+"Indeed I do," was the quick reply; "you have taste, correctness of
+touch, and will soon acquire skill."
+
+"We will come to the harp to-morrow morning alone," said the young
+lady, "and see what we can do; perhaps you will point out my errors."
+
+"Certainly, my dear lady; I shall be but too happy to render you any
+aid."
+
+Lord N---- was pleased with the social chat, and when he had the
+opportunity, said to Madeline,
+
+"Is she not charming? so artless! and yet so intelligent and good!"
+
+"She seems to be a lovely person, Lord N----; may I congratulate you
+in the possession of such a heart?"
+
+"You may, Mrs. Bruce; she will soon be mine."
+
+Next morning, the young ladies met in the drawing room, and Madeline
+took great pleasure in directing the hour's practice; and as long as
+she stayed at Parkhurst, the Lady Lucy availed herself of the
+generous aid of the youthful visitor; mutually pleased with each
+other, these were happy hours.
+
+A visit to Elmore Hall completed their stay in England.  Leaving her
+pleasant friends, Madeline enjoyed the fine country through which
+they passed on their way to Scotland.
+
+Stopping in their journey wherever there were spots of historical
+interest, or beautiful scenery, their northern tour occupied some
+weeks.  Madeline's naive and enthusiastic expressions of delight were
+fully appreciated by the fine taste of her husband.
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+"Whom hae we here?" said Uncle Malcolm, as he heard the wheels of a
+carriage driving up to the door.
+
+"They are travellers frae a distance, uncle," said Annot Lindsay,
+"for they hae a large number o' trunks."
+
+Malcolm could think of but one such party, and hurrying out, the
+beaming faces of the young pair greeted him from the carriage window.
+
+In a moment Roland was pressed to his heart, and Madeline most
+affectionately welcomed to the Highland Hall.
+
+"How lang hae ye been in England, Roland?" inquired Mr. Graham.
+
+"About three months."
+
+"And did na let us know, Roland!  How is that?"
+
+"We wanted to surprise you, my good sir; and then we had a great deal
+to see, and we knew that you would hurry us on to Scotland; but we
+are going to pay you the longest visit."
+
+Uncle Malcolm took Madeline's hand.
+
+"May the dear Lord bless ye, my sweet young leddy! ye hae made a
+noble choice, an' I doubt na will be a happy wife."
+
+"The wife of Roland Bruce must be blessed, Uncle Malcolm; I have
+known him for more than eleven years, and always loved him even from
+a child."
+
+Madeline looked around her with wondering eyes, for all was so
+different from the calm features of English landscape.  High
+mountains, clothed with dark, rich foliage, and the rough lineaments
+of the Scottish Highlands, so totally unlike the picturesque country
+through which she had so lately passed.  But it had great
+charms--even the novelty made it attractive.  Then this Highland home
+of a Scotch gentleman was so comfortable; such a warm glow of welcome
+shone upon her everywhere, that the young heart was full of
+happiness, and the bright face dimpled with rosy smiles.
+
+And Annot Lindsay was so piquante! so fresh! so guileless!  Her airy
+little figure, soft blue eyes, and profusion of light ringlets
+shading her sweet young face, were not her only charms.  The warm
+heart that beat under her blue boddice, and the musical voice that
+greeted Madeline with such a simple, earnest welcome, gained the
+heart of the young bride at once; for soon after supper, the two were
+seated side by side, on the soft sofa of the family room, quite at
+home; Annot holding Madeline's hand, and looking on her face with
+evident admiration.
+
+"Madeline, I luve ye," whispered the young girl, as she drew closer
+to her, and leaned her pretty head upon her shoulder--"wunna ye be my
+sister, Madeline? for I ne'er had ane."
+
+She returned the caress of the lovely girl.
+
+"That is just my case, Annot, and I can easily adopt you as my little
+sister; for I shall not return to America without you."
+
+"What will Uncle Malcolm say to that?"
+
+"Oh!  I am wonderful at coaxing; ask Roland about that."
+
+While this episode was acting upon the sofa, Uncle Malcolm had raised
+the piano.
+
+"It has been tuned on purpose for ye, dear; now, sister Lindsay, I am
+going to gie ye a treat;" and the good man led Madeline to the
+instrument.
+
+"Scotch music first," said the host.
+
+"I know a great deal, Uncle Malcolm, for I learned it to please
+Roland."
+
+And Madeline threw out her whole soul that night, and poured forth
+such strains of melody as melted every heart--even old Lion drew
+closer to the instrument, looking wistfully in the face of the
+performer.
+
+Then came several fine sacred pieces, which particularly accorded
+with the tastes of the family at Graham Hall.
+
+After evening worship, Mrs. Lindsay led her guests to their room, for
+she perceived that they were wearied with their journey.
+
+"You have made great improvements, Mrs. Lindsay," said Roland, as he
+looked around.
+
+"Yes--Malcolm wad hae everything renewed; he went to London himsel',
+so that a' should be right."
+
+"He has made this a charming room, indeed," said Roland; "one would
+scarcely wish to leave it."
+
+"That is just what we should like, Roland, but we canna wish for sic'
+happiness; guid night,"--and she kissed the cheek of the young wife,
+and departed.
+
+In the freedom of the country, the three young people ran about with
+the gay spirits of childhood, searching out the fine points of
+picturesque views, and bringing in every variety of novel plant.
+Roland often laughed at Madeline's blunders, who, being unacquainted
+with Scotch vegetation, frequently gathered weeds for flowers.
+
+The purple tints of the Scotch heather met them everywhere, and
+Madeline could easily understand why it was so dear to Mrs. Bruce;
+for was it not almost the carpet of the Scotch highlands?  Many were
+the pleasant excursions which Uncle Malcolm devised for their
+amusement--a visit to the old manse, and another to the kirk, where
+Madeline stood in silence with Roland, amidst the memories of his
+childhood.
+
+"We must see Jennie," said her husband; and the old woman, who now
+lived at the manse, was summoned to the parlor.
+
+"An' this is yer bonny bride, Roland! may she aye be a blessed wife!
+she's a bright young bird! wad na yer mither hae luved her weel?"
+
+"I am glad to see you at the manse, Jennie."
+
+"Yes, Roland--but the dear ones that made its sunshine, hae a' gane;
+an' a' that I can do is to remember."
+
+"You will meet them again, Jennie."
+
+"Yes, i' the land that's far awa', hinney--when this puir body hae
+done wi' cares an' toils, we shall a' rejoice together."
+
+"Here is something for you, Jennie; a warm winter dress; we
+remembered you on our way."
+
+"And I too," said the young wife, as she unrolled a soft tartan cloak.
+
+Jennie dropped a courtesy, as she said,
+
+"These are just what I wanted--it wad hae' been a lang time ere I
+could hae' bought the like; thank ye kindly, my bonny bairns."
+
+They turned to go--"Stay, Roland; I hae yer mither's hymn-book; I
+found it i' the auld kirk, an' I kenned that nae body wad luve it
+half sae weel."
+
+Roland took the precious relic, and bade farewell.
+
+"God bless ye, my bairns; an' bring ye hame to the blessed kingdom;"
+were the parting words of old Jennie.
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+Alone they stood around the grave of Lilian Gordon; and Madeline,
+amid the deep solitude of the solemn scenery with nought but the
+murmurs of the rustling winds, and the gurgling of mountain brooks to
+disturb the silence, could sympathize with the emotions so often
+described by Roland, on that sacred spot.
+
+"Here were kindled the first feelings of ancestral pride, Roland;"
+said the young wife.
+
+"Yes, Madeline, I can say with the poet Cowper,
+
+  "'My boast is not that I deduce my birth
+  From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth;
+  But higher far my proud pretensions rise--
+  The son of parents passed into the skies.'"
+
+
+"Here, too, was kindled your dislike of the Church of England."
+
+"That is true--and can you wonder?  I was but a child, then, with all
+the strong feelings of a Scotch education--I knew nothing of the
+noble specimens of piety, learning, and the true catholic spirit
+which distinguish the Church of England in modern days; I doubt if
+you could find a persecuting Laud now."
+
+"It makes me so happy, my husband, to hear you express such
+sentiments; for I should be very sorry to find a gulf between us, on
+such a subject."
+
+"But, really, Madeline, in spite of all these old grievances, I do
+prefer, in many things, the church of your love--it suits my spirit;
+the solemn order of its ritual, the fervent tone of its devotion,
+baptized by the Spirit of God, breathed throughout these sacred
+offices, seem to me so much more worthy of the solemnity of public
+worship offered to the Deity, than the rude irreverent speech which
+shocks a devotional, humble spirit; the trouble is just here--people
+are tempted to rest in forms, and where there is not a spirit of
+heartfelt piety, these may degenerate into mere lip-service."
+
+"Yes, Roland, that is true--but do not all persons who lead public
+exercises have their own forms almost stereotyped? and our choice
+must, sometimes, not always be, between crude, irreverent, tedious
+prayers, and the wisdom, piety, and experience, of some of the purest
+spirits of the Reformation.  I could close my eyes, sometimes, and
+say who was praying, if I did not know the voice, I am sure.  What a
+blessing it is that we can both stand on such a broad platform, as to
+embrace all who love our Lord Jesus Christ, in sincerity and
+truth--my heart turns instinctively to all such with a warm throb,
+and wherever I see the lovely features of the Master, I am conscious
+of a love above all this earthly scaffolding."
+
+"There was much in the spirit of the old Covenanters to admire and
+revere, Madeline; their heroic endurance and patience placed them by
+the side of the noblest martyrs; and many of them will, doubtless, be
+very near the throne of our dear Lord in that day, when he gathers in
+his own elect."
+
+"For that I love their memory, Roland; but there was much in the
+spirit of their great leader, Oliver Cromwell, that did not seem to
+me to accord with the spirit of Christ."
+
+"He lived in days so different from ours that we can scarcely realize
+what qualities such times could call forth."
+
+They were seated by the side of Lilian's grave, and, with hands
+clasped, they sang
+
+  "Blest is the tie that binds
+    Our hearts in Christian love;
+  The fellowship of kindred minds
+    Is like to that above."
+
+
+After a few moments of delicious silence, Roland looked upward
+towards the distant hills.
+
+"It is growing late, dear; we must not keep our good friends
+waiting;" and reluctantly they turned away from the hallowed spot.
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+Time sped too rapidly; for the intercourse of the congenial spirits
+which dwelt at Graham Hall was just such as completely represented
+the idea of domestic happiness.  Riding about with Uncle Malcolm,
+interested in his various schemes of business or benevolence, Roland
+was content; and Mrs. Lindsay, Madeline, and Annot formed a happy
+trio around the domestic fireside.
+
+The simplicity of the young wife endeared her tenderly to good Mrs.
+Lindsay; for while she daily gave Annot her music lesson, she left no
+opportunity of gathering from Mrs. Lindsay's experience practical
+knowledge for her own housekeeping.  With her clean, white apron, she
+was often seen by the side of that good lady, when making any of her
+nice dishes, or putting up the various comforts for winter use.  Many
+a time did Roland peep in on these occasions, smiling at the pretty
+figure, with sleeves rolled up, and dainty fingers busily at work
+with the pastry and cakes, the pickles or jellies of good Mrs.
+Lindsay.
+
+Sometimes he would run in, and whisper some words which would cover
+Madeline's face with blushes, and she would reply,
+
+"Send him away, Mrs. Lindsay; he is growing to be such a flatterer;
+he'll make me vain and foolish."
+
+She gathered thus a number of valuable recipes from the kind hostess,
+and looked upon her visit to Graham Hall as the most useful of all
+since she had left home.
+
+"A letter from Edmund!" said Roland, one morning, at the
+breakfast-table; "he says that he envies us this visit, for he never
+was so happy, in all his life, as when at Graham Hall; there's
+something here about our little Annot that I know she'd like to
+hear;" and Roland glanced mischievously at the blushing face of the
+young girl.
+
+"I dinna care onything about it, Roland; it's just a shame to tease
+me sae;" and Annot ran away from the table in a hurry to attend to
+some business that she remembered suddenly.
+
+When Roland had a private opportunity, he whispered in her ear,
+
+"Edmund wonders if sweet Annot Lindsay remembers the pleasant walks
+and rides, the quiet evenings, and mossy bunks round Graham Hall; he
+can never forget them, he says, for the linnet that sang those pretty
+Scotch songs so sweetly is ever haunting his path."
+
+Annot listened with downcast face, for she was conscious of
+remembering them quite as tenderly.
+
+"Do you know, Annot, that I have obtained Uncle Malcolm's consent to
+spare you just one year? you are going with us to Woodcliff; he
+consents, because he thinks that the journey will be of great use to
+you, Annot; he wishes you to be one year with my Madeline."
+
+"Am I really going!" and she clapped her little hands with delight.
+
+"I shall be sae happy;" then speedily changing countenance, "but what
+will Uncle Malcolm an' dear mother do without me?  I fear that they
+will be sae lonesome."
+
+A farewell visit to Aunt Douglass and Elsie Gibson closed their
+sojourn in Scotland.
+
+Pleasant things must have an end.  After a few weeks of busy
+preparation, Annot was ready; and the hitherto happy party were very
+silent around the breakfast-table, where they met for the last time.
+
+The parting hour had arrived; trunks all ready, the farewell blessing
+given, and the last adieux silently exchanged from full hearts and
+weeping eyes.
+
+Annot threw herself upon the bosom of her mother, then of dear Uncle
+Malcolm, with a burst of feeling; and was placed silently in the
+carriage by the side of Madeline, who folded the young girl in her
+arms, and said,
+
+"Be comforted, Annot; you are going with those who love you dearly."
+
+"I ken it a', Madeline; but I am leaving the dearest far behind."
+
+As they passed the familiar scenes of her daily life she still looked
+out with weeping eyes.
+
+"Farewell, dear Scotland! how bonnie her dark-brown hills appear to
+me!"
+
+A short voyage brought the party to America, and, without delay, to
+Woodcliff.
+
+"There, Annot, is our dear, dear home!" said Madeline, as they drove
+up the avenue of noble elms.
+
+"It is a lovely spot, dear! but how different from Scotland!"
+
+Aunt Matilda, Mr. Bruce, and the servants were all in waiting; for
+the long absence of six months had prepared the way for a warm
+welcome.  Aunt Matilda could never tire of looking at her dear niece,
+and Mr. Bruce hung upon the arm of his son with the same old
+reverential love, his voice trembling with joyful emotion.
+
+"I hae missed ye day and night, Roland, but I hae done a' that ye
+told me, an' a' is just as ye wish it."
+
+The novelty of the scenes around her revived Annot's spirits, and she
+was soon the merry little sunbeam of the house.  Aunt Matilda was
+delighted with the Highland lassie, and was never better pleased than
+when she could draw her away from all the rest, and hear her tales
+about Scottish life, and scenery, and people; the old superstitions
+had their charm for her, and many a time Madeline enjoyed a quiet
+laugh at the expense of Aunt Matilda.  As soon as Edmund heard of the
+arrival, he hastened to Woodcliff; but what was his surprise to see
+Annot Lindsay in America!  She was no longer the pretty, innocent
+child of fifteen, with her sweet voice and winning ways, but a lovely
+girl of eighteen, with the simplicity of a child and the deeper
+nature of a woman.  She had grown wonderfully, but was still a little
+Highland maiden; the same soft eyes and ever-changing color, the same
+graceful form and tripping step, the same luxuriant flow of golden
+ringlets and tender, bewildering voice.  He was completely taken by
+surprise.  He could not call her Annot now--this young and charming
+woman.
+
+"Miss Lindsay, I am delighted to see you again; this is indeed an
+unexpected pleasure," and Edmund touched respectfully the hand so
+bashfully extended, and, as soon as possible, Annot sought the
+shelter of a quiet corner, where she thought herself secure from
+observation.  But not so.  Edmund was soon again by her side, and
+would take no denial when begging for some of her sweet Scotch songs.
+
+She was an artless little thing, and, without farther persuasion,
+took her seat at the piano, and revived the old memories with her
+sweet voice, now so much fuller, deeper, richer than three years ago.
+
+"I ken some mair music, Mr. Norris," and Annot proceeded to sing some
+of her more fashionable music.
+
+"Let us keep to the old songs, Miss Lindsay; they are the sweetest by
+far."
+
+"What are you about now, Edmund?" said Roland.
+
+"I am in business just to please my mother; but I despise mercantile
+concerns; I shall never be a successful merchant."
+
+"We shall see you often now, Edmund, I suppose," said Roland, archly
+emphasizing the word now.
+
+"I think that is very likely," dryly answered Edmund, with a
+significant smile.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+FELLOW-HEIRS OF THE GRACE OF LIFE
+
+"This is a trial," said Roland; "business calls me to New York, and
+it will never do for me to be running down daily to Woodcliff; I
+should be half of my time on the road.  In the busy season, I shall
+have to content myself coming every other day, unless we take
+boarding in the city."
+
+"Do you desire it, Roland? your wishes shall guide me, although I
+should be sorry to leave dear Woodcliff; life is so very different in
+that gay metropolis."
+
+"I think that we had better remain here; we will go to the city for a
+few weeks in the winter, that Annot may see some of the lions that we
+have to show her."
+
+Still the child of Providence, Roland rose step by step, until we
+find him occupying posts of honor and trust, a self-made man, such as
+thrive best in America.  Life was very charming at Woodcliff; but
+Madeline felt that it was time to furnish her young charge with some
+useful pursuits, so one morning after breakfast she summoned her to
+her sitting-room.
+
+"Well, Annot, now you have run about like a wild bird for a few
+weeks, suppose that we arrange some plans for improvement, dear; that
+is what Uncle Malcolm wishes, you know."
+
+"An' that is just what I desire, Madeline."
+
+"I have written to one of the best teachers of music in Boston, and,
+as it is but a few hours' ride, he can come twice a week to give you
+lessons, and you will have abundant time for practice; then I am
+going to ask your help in the Sunday-school, and will give you ten
+families among the factory people to visit."
+
+"Thank ye, dear Madeline; I hae always led a busy life, and I wad na
+be happy in a state o' idleness."
+
+The neighborhood around Woodcliff was rapidly increasing; the
+factories had brought many new families, both of the working classes
+and their employers; and the healthy, pleasant climate, the vicinity
+of the sea, and the beauties of fine scenery, had attracted also many
+summer residents, who were building picturesque cottages all around
+in the pleasant lanes, on the hill-tops, and some nearer to the
+sea-shore, where there was now a prospect of good bathing.
+Consequently, the Sunday-school and the congregation rapidly
+multiplied.  Madeline began to think that it was time to think about
+her favorite plan in earnest; there must really be a church at
+Woodcliff.
+
+It was a very happy household that dwelt beneath its roof; but there
+must be something to disturb its quiet, for, to Madeline's surprise,
+Lavinia wrote to say that Lucy and she were coming on a visit to
+Woodcliff.  A slight shade of annoyance passed over the face of the
+young lady as she wondered what would bring Lavinia, after her
+conduct at the time of her marriage; but Madeline was a Christian and
+a lady, and sent an acknowledgment of the letter, with the
+information that a room was ready for their reception.  They
+arrived--Lavinia, the same vain and frivolous girl; Lucy, the same
+gentle, pious friend.  A handsome wardrobe, with every variety of
+fashionable folly, was intended to impress Annot Lindsay, but it
+failed signally; for it simply excited her wonder, and offended her
+pure and lady-like taste.  Remarks were never made upon the subject
+except by Lavinia herself, and Annot generally contrived to introduce
+some more profitable conversation.
+
+We will sit down with the family at a breakfast scene.  Always
+attired with the neat simplicity of a lady, Madeline had not yet
+learned to appear before her husband with dishevelled hair, untidy
+costume, or any neglect of ladylike habits; and yet she was busier
+now than when Aunt Matilda expressed the fear that such might be the
+case; for, in her leisure moments, she still scribbled privately for
+the news-boys; but she had learned to live by system, thanks to the
+master of the family.
+
+"Roland, will you want the horses to-day?" asked the wife.
+
+"I think not; do you wish to ride, Madeline?"
+
+"Yes; I have a visit to pay; I have never returned Mrs. De Coursey's
+call."
+
+"I think that I shall have to refuse my wife the use of the horses
+to-day."
+
+Madeline changed countenance--to be refused! and before Aunt Matilda
+and Lavinia, it was really too bad.  She began to tap her little foot
+under the table, and to play impatiently with her spoon.
+
+"Why can I not have the horses, if you are not going to use them,
+Roland?"
+
+"I do not wish my wife to cultivate the acquaintance of Mrs. De
+Coursey; she is not a proper associate for a pure-minded lady."
+
+"Why, what is the matter with Mrs. De Coursey?  for my part, I think
+that she is charming; so sweet in her manners, so generous in her
+charities!"
+
+"Have you ever seen her ride with her husband, Madeline?"
+
+"I cannot say that I have," was the reply.
+
+"Have you not seen her riding repeatedly with that infamous George
+Sinclair, Madeline?"
+
+"I think I have, but he is her cousin; is he not?"
+
+"Perhaps so; but in the absence of her husband, she is much too free
+with gentlemen generally."
+
+"And so you really refuse me the horses, Roland?"
+
+"Do not let us talk about it now, my love; after breakfast, I will
+explain my reasons more fully."
+
+Roland looked deeply pained, Madeline angry and mortified, Lavinia
+Raymond contemptuous, and Aunt Matilda utterly surprised.  It was the
+first ripple on the matrimonial surface.
+
+The meal passed in silence--husband and wife were thoroughly
+uncomfortable.  After Madeline had washed her silver and glass, as
+was her custom, she proceeded, with a dejected step, to her favorite
+room.
+
+Roland followed--she was sitting in silence before her secretary,
+leaning her head on her hand, while she could not conceal the tears
+that were stealing through her fingers.
+
+"My dearest wife," said the young man, "have I pained you?" and he
+seated himself by her, winding his arm around her waist, and kissing
+away the tears, as they fell drop by drop from her eyes.
+
+She did not answer; conscience was busily at work, for she felt that
+she had been wrong.
+
+"Can you not trust me, love? would I refuse you any thing which I
+know was for your real good? but when the honor of my pure and noble
+wife is concerned, then I must be the husband, Madeline.  Do you know
+that Mrs. De Coursey is not visited, even in New York, by any of the
+really pure and good?"
+
+"I did not know it, Roland, but I wish that you had refused me when
+alone; it was so mortifying to be treated just like a----child!" and
+she sobbed out the latter word, and threw herself upon his bosom;
+"and then to see the look of triumph and contempt in Lavinia's face,
+and surprise and pain on Aunt Matilda's."
+
+"What need you care, my love, for the opinions of the world, if you
+only know that you are right?  It is right to avoid the society of
+the impure, and it is right to be guided by your husband--is it not,
+dear?"
+
+Madeline turned her eyes full upon Roland's noble face, so full of
+sorrow, and tender feeling.  He had fully conquered; and she wound
+her arms around his neck, as she whispered,
+
+"Forgive me, dear Roland, you are always right--this is just some of
+the leaven of my old hateful pride."
+
+"And you the same sweet, ingenuous wife--do you think that I will
+ever allow any thing to approach you, Madeline, that can even breathe
+upon your reputation, or your happiness? now, darling--be comforted;"
+and he kissed again and again the half-smiling, tearful face.
+
+Madeline began to laugh, a little hysterically, at first, but at last
+the showers passed away, and she was herself again.
+
+Opening her secretary, she took out a draft of a church, which she
+had brought from England, a copy of the pretty Gothic building at
+Parkhurst.
+
+"I want to ask your advice, Roland, about this church; you won't
+refuse me dear, will you?"
+
+"It is very pretty, Madeline; but I think that we must have something
+added that is a little more useful."
+
+"O, yes! it wants a Sunday-school--we cannot have that in a building
+like this, without spoiling the proportions."
+
+"We can have a building by itself of the same style, and then, you
+know, that there must be a parsonage."
+
+"Yes, that is fixed--no church without a house for the minister; I
+think the time has come to set about building--but it will cost a
+great deal of money."
+
+"I will give a thousand, Madeline, out of my own means--I mean from
+my practice."
+
+"Can we not give two thousand, Roland?"
+
+"I think so, but we must be careful, dear, not to go beyond our
+ability, though our means are abundant; now, darling, come sit by me
+a moment," and Roland drew the young wife by his side upon the sofa,
+while he said softly,
+
+"Do you not sometimes regret your loss of liberty, Madeline? just
+tell me, darling, truly."
+
+"Never, Roland, in the depths of my heart--there may he ripples of
+the old pride disturbing the surface of my happiness; but the quiet
+ocean of love cannot be ruffled by these little passing winds," and
+she kissed her husband fondly; then rising said, "wait a minute, I
+must get my bonnet and mantle, for I have some purchases to make
+to-day."
+
+Returning soon, every trace of sadness had vanished, and with the old
+arch look of mischief in her face, she entered saying, with a mock
+reverence of profound obeisance,
+
+  "'Most potent, grave and reverend signior!
+  My very noble and approved good master,'
+  If I have in aught offended your lordship,
+  I most humbly beg your gracious pardon--
+  The very head and front of my offending is in this;
+  That wilful woman like, I, like a fractious child,
+  Have sought to have my way, and not my lord's.
+  But now I lay down the weapons of my rebellion,
+  And Desdemona-like, bow to my lord Othello,
+  And say just love me well, my lord, and I am happy."
+
+and as she concluded, placing her hand gracefully upon her heart, she
+made another mocking obeisance; the long, drooping eyelashes hiding
+the gleams of mischief that lurked in ambush.  While she spoke these
+words with such a winning grace, Roland looked and listened with
+admiring gaze.  It was the bewitching child of the sea-shore, and the
+wild woods yet, that stood before him, with her bright look of
+mischief gleaming from her deep blue eyes, and dimpling her
+expressive mouth.  He kissed the glowing cheek with fondest love, as
+he replied,
+
+"Well done! my love, where did you get that fine speech?"
+
+"An imitation of Shakspeare, my lord; I was just seized with a fit of
+mischief, and thought that I would be sweet Desdemona--have I
+succeeded, Roland?"
+
+"Admirably--now, what have you to ask, my darling?  I know that there
+must be something behind this pretty acting."
+
+"Why, just this--to show that we are all right again, just take me
+this morning to the store, and this evening to the hill above
+Glendale; I want to show you a fine site for our church."
+
+"My plans were all different for to-day; but you must carry me where
+you please, Desdemona."
+
+"That's noble, my lord Othello; now as soon as you can get the
+carriage, I am ready."
+
+In a little while the carriage drove up, and Lavinia was utterly
+surprised to see Madeline, with beaming eyes and glowing cheek,
+handed in by her husband.
+
+Kissing her hand to those on the piazza, she drove off in high
+spirits, and Lavinia said,
+
+"Madeline lets that man lead her just where he pleases; I am
+astonished that a girl of her spirit should be so tame--refuse her
+own horses!  I should like to see the man that could do that by me."
+
+"It is mutual leading, Lavinia," replied Lucy.  "I never saw a more
+perfect union."
+
+They rode happily along, their intercourse the dearer for the gentle
+agitation that had disturbed it--but let young married persons beware
+that they stir not these ripples too often, for they may raise
+tempests at last.
+
+Lengthening their ride, they remained away for two hours, and
+Madeline was happy in having her husband at home all day.  After an
+early tea, another pleasant ride to Glendale, closed the day.
+
+Arrived at the spot, Madeline led her husband to the top of a hill,
+commanding a fine view of the whole country.  On the brow of this
+eminence stood a grove of fine old forest trees, that looked as if
+they had grown there on purpose to shade the pretty church; on the
+slope of the hill, facing the south, was an extensive lawn descending
+gradually to a babbling stream, bordered on either side by wild
+shrubbery, and fine old trees, dipping their branches into the
+winding creek; pretty vines hung in graceful festoons among the
+branches, forming charming resting-places for the strollers on the
+banks of this rural stream.
+
+To the left was one broad rolling hill, rising in gentle swells,
+until it was lost in the distant outlines of misty blue hills.
+
+This one eminence was partly covered with fine forest trees, crowning
+it to the very top; and on the slopes at the foot of the hill were
+pretty rural cottages, surrounded by shade trees, cultivated fields,
+and thick clumps of woods.  From one broad opening, peeps out the
+dearest little miniature home, so like a bird's nest of love; as far
+as eye could reach, for miles the country was one beautiful garden of
+gentle hills and dales, and extensive woodlands; adding the
+picturesque feature of a dark stone bridge over a neighboring stream.
+The whole landscape was dotted with fine farms, gentlemen's
+country-seats, and quiet rural homes; and bounding this whole
+charming picture, on every side, were ranges of low hills, fading
+away in the distance in tints of misty blue.
+
+Viewed at sunset, it was a picture never to be forgotten--the whole
+landscape was flooded in a halo of glory; the deep crimson of the
+setting sun illumined the sky, and hung his veil of splendor over
+every hill; gradually it changed to deeper hues, then to rich purple
+and gold, tinging the trees with the reflected glow of sunlight;
+slowly the hues faded, until the landscape was enveloped in the
+sombre drapery of solemn evening.
+
+"What a place for thought and study, Roland!  This must be the site
+for our church; we will call it Calvary; it shall be Gothic, with a
+Sunday-school, and parsonage to correspond; we must have a good
+minister; I have set my heart on George Stanley, he has been just
+ordained; write to him, Roland; he might as well come down at once;
+and if he becomes interested, he can help us to collect the funds,
+for it will cost a large sum of money.  The house must be Glendale
+Parsonage, and I think Helen will be the lady; don't you, Roland?"
+
+"I have no doubt of it; they are constantly engaged in the same good
+works, and seem just suited to each other; he so strong and
+self-reliant, she so gentle and dependent."
+
+Madeline had passed a happy day; and, on their return, Lavinia and
+Lucy were walking on the piazza.  There was something so tender in
+the manner of the young husband, as he lifted her from the carriage,
+and so confiding in the deep blue eyes of the wife, that Lavinia was
+full of wonder.
+
+"I wonder how long the honeymoon will last," said Lavinia, as she
+observed the perfect reconciliation of the married pair.
+
+"I think for life, Lavinia," was Lucy's reply; "there are depths of
+love and earnest piety in both characters; and such links are not
+easily broken."
+
+"For my part, I don't believe in such romantic notions, Lucy; give me
+a handsome house and carriage, plenty of servants, and a long purse
+of money, with a comfortable, easy husband, who will let me take my
+path, and he choose his, and that is all that I care for."
+
+Madeline and her husband, seated in the library, were looking over
+some accounts connected with their charities; and, after an hour
+devoted to business, she took her seat on a low ottoman at Roland's
+feet; and leaning her head upon his knee, occasionally she looked up
+in his face, with the true love of a wife shining in her expressive
+eyes, while he laid his hand caressingly upon the soft brown hair.
+
+"We are very happy, Roland," said the young wife, "and sometimes when
+I read of the discipline of God's children, I tremble lest it should
+be necessary to visit our nest of love."
+
+"We must never forget, my wife, that we are but pilgrims, seeking
+another, that is, a heavenly country; let our great object be to
+glorify God, to love him supremely, and then we can trust him with
+all our future.  Looking aloft! dear, always, through joy and through
+sorrow, that is the way to happiness and peace."
+
+"How different, Roland, is the bond that unites us, from the cold and
+selfish world! no wonder that there are so many wretched marriages,
+when so few are founded upon the holy principles of the Gospel.  Ah,
+how many, when days of indifference and neglect overtake them, sigh
+for a love that never existed!"
+
+"If people would only study the epistles of the disciple whom Jesus
+loved, and form their heart unions from such high and holy sources,
+how different would be the loves and friendships of poor humanity!"
+
+And thus holy was the heart communion of this true union.
+
+"Do not forget, Roland, to write to Stanley to-morrow, and bring him
+down with you next week to see the field of labor; it will be such a
+privilege to have a church of our own."
+
+"Now, dear, it is time for worship;" and Roland rang the bell which
+summoned his family to the library.
+
+While he reverently read and expounded the Holy Scriptures, all
+listened with deep seriousness; Madeline always conducted the
+singing; and guests and servants felt the value of that banner of
+security thus daily spread over the family circle at Woodcliff.  Even
+Lavinia was obliged, much against her will, to pay the homage of deep
+respect to the character of Roland Bruce.
+
+The Eolian discoursed sweet music on that calm evening, as, arm in
+arm, Roland and Madeline stood near the open window.
+
+Edmund's visits to Woodcliff were much more frequent; a piece of
+music for Annot, an hour's private talk with Roland, or a book for
+Madeline, all served as so many pleas for weekly visits; until, at
+last, Edmund was always expected on Saturday night, to return with
+Roland, on Monday, to the city.
+
+Tired of the frivolity of fashionable life, his heart turned with
+delight to the home-circle of his friend, and he often wondered if he
+should ever be blessed with such a happy household.
+
+Annot had learned to listen for his footstep, and to blush when his
+hand was upon the door-knob; always ready with some new music, or a
+plate of especially choice fruit.  Edmund gradually found that the
+lovely Scotch lassie was necessary to his happiness; and the heads of
+the family did not discourage the intimacy, for Roland knew his
+worth; had watched his progress, and saw the gleams of spiritual life
+as they developed themselves in his young protégé.
+
+Therefore, when Edmund invited Annot to a walk on the piazza, to a
+ramble on the sea-shore, or by the placid lake, to an evening ride in
+the quiet lanes, there was no opposition; it rather pleased both
+husband and wife to see the dawn of a virtuous attachment, so
+elevating to the character of a young man.
+
+Lavinia brought her visit to a close, for the tranquil pleasures and
+useful pursuits at Woodcliff did not suit the worldly tastes of her
+vitiated heart.
+
+Stanley and Helen accompanied Roland on his next Saturday's return.
+
+A long talk in the library between Roland and his friend about the
+parish seemed to have ended harmoniously; for after an early tea, the
+four took a ride to Glendale, for it was but a mile from Woodcliff.
+
+Stanley was enraptured with the beautiful view from the hill-top, and
+Helen more quietly enjoyed the scene.
+
+"There, Mr. Stanley, will be a part of your parish," said Madeline,
+as she pointed to the numerous pleasant homes scattered in all
+directions from one to five or six miles distant; "many of these
+people go nowhere to church, and if we should plant one in their
+midst, I doubt not that we could soon raise a prosperous
+congregation; the good Bishop of our Diocese is very anxious for such
+an effort, for his family have a summer-cottage here; we have already
+about one hundred in regular attendance, and large numbers of summer
+residents could worship with us--we have a prosperous Sunday-school
+with twelve teachers, and a Parish school under the care of an
+excellent young person, Susan Grant."
+
+Stanley listened with deep interest
+
+"The call seems inviting, Mrs. Bruce, and nothing would please me
+more than a home amidst just such a people; what do you say, Helen?"
+
+At this direct and sudden appeal she blushed deeply--for, as yet,
+only surmise had connected the two names.
+
+"I think that it would suit you exactly, Mr. Stanley; this quiet,
+shady hill, looks so inviting to thought and study."
+
+Madeline could not resist the temptation as she whispered,
+
+"And you, dear Helen, for the pastor's good little wife."
+
+The sweet face was suffused with blushes, as she replied,
+
+"Would you advise it, Madeline?"
+
+"By all means, my dear girl; Stanley is the very companion for you,
+my little lily."
+
+This was all side-talk, while the gentlemen were engaged in
+conversation of a more practical character.
+
+The end of the conference was that Stanley should enter at once upon
+his labors, and that active measures should be taken without delay
+towards the erection of a church.  He preached on Sunday to quite a
+large congregation; and the manly, earnest character of his sermon,
+so full of the unction of a pure gospel, made a deep impression;
+Roland heard many saying as they left the school-room,
+
+"I wish that we could have him for our minister."
+
+Stanley soon came among them as their own pastor, and until his own
+home was ready he took up his abode at Woodcliff.  The church was
+quickly planned, an architect and builders upon the spot, and under
+the energetic perseverance of Roland and Stanley, it went forward
+rapidly.
+
+Daily did the character of Stephen Bruce's piety deepen; his mind
+would probably never regain its tone, for it had been shattered too
+long and powerfully for perfect restoration.  He was very busy in
+riding daily to the church; for although of another sect, he was
+interested in all of Roland's plans, and reported daily progress,
+with all the simple-hearted pleasure of a child.
+
+Susan Grant, the little girl for whom Roland stood as the youthful
+champion, was now an excellent young woman, and had charge of the
+parish school, while Philip acted as librarian for the reading-room;
+and the affectionate daughter had actually lightened her dear
+mother's cares, and brightened her happy home, not, however, by
+gathering diamonds, but by scattering seeds of knowledge.  November
+was now approaching, and Madeline remembered her promise to Annot,
+that she should visit the city for a few weeks; accordingly, the
+three took up their abode at one of the best hotels.  Visiting all
+the celebrated places in and around New York, Annot was pleased for
+awhile, but her chief delight was in the happy evenings that she and
+Edmund could now spend together.
+
+At the end of six weeks, Annot came to Madeline with a pleading look
+upon her face--"Shall we return to Woodcliff, dear?"
+
+"I am glad to hear you make the request, Annot, for I must be there
+by Christmas; and so you have seen enough of this great city, my
+dear, and love the quiet of the country yet?"
+
+"Luve it, Madeline!  I dinna ken how I could e'er be happy in a great
+city.  Sic a bustle, an' sic a round o' folly, I ne'er could endure."
+
+"And what, then, will you and Edmund do?  You know his business is in
+New York."
+
+Annot hung her pretty head, and blushed as she replied,
+
+"There is nae positive bond between us, Madeline."
+
+"Not that of devoted hearts, Annot?"
+
+"I did na say that exactly; but it wud na be right to make an
+engagement o' that sort without Uncle Malcolm an' dear mother's
+consent."
+
+"Have you ever written to them, dear, upon the subject?"
+
+"Oh, yes, Madeline!  I ne'er hae ony secrets frae them; they want us
+baith to wait until Edmund sees Uncle Malcolm.  I hae been here noo
+quite a year.  I canna gae hame alone.  In the spring, Mrs. Norris,
+Jessie, an' Edmund, are all going to Europe, an' I shall accompany
+them."
+
+"You have every prospect of happiness with Edmund Norris, but I don't
+know what Uncle Malcolm will say about parting with his darling
+niece."
+
+"Is it na strange, Madeline, that I could feel willing to leave dear
+Uncle Malcolm, the guid friend o' a lifetime, an' my precious mother,
+who has luved me sae fondly, to come awa' wi' a stranger, that I hae
+only kenned intimately for one year? and yet I am willing; I could go
+ony where wi' Edmund, to the north or south pole.  Does it na seem
+amaist a shame, Madeline, to say sae?" and Annot blushed rosy red, as
+she hung her head down bashfully.
+
+"I know all about that, Annot--it is not strange, dear, for does not
+the Bible say, that a 'man shall leave his father and mother, and
+cleave to his wife, and they twain shall be one flesh?' and it is
+just the same with the wife; so don't distress yourself, little dear;
+it is the ordering of our Father."
+
+Christmas Eve at Woodcliff--what a bright, happy time!  The parlors,
+library, dining and sitting rooms, are all dressed with evergreens,
+winter flowers and vases, in which the Scotch heather lifts its
+pretty purple flowers among brighter blossoms; and a table with a
+large white cover stands in the middle of the library, which has been
+most carefully locked for the last week.
+
+In the back parlor stands a Christmas tree (on the top of which rests
+the Christmas angel), hung with numberless little gifts, and
+decorated with red holly berries, lady-apples, colored glass globes,
+and a profusion of variegated wax candles.
+
+On a small table are spread piles of fancy covered books.
+
+This has been the work of Madeline and Annot since their return from
+New York; interesting several families in the neighborhood, they have
+gathered together a large quantity of presents for the children of
+the Sunday-school.
+
+They are determined to have a happy Christmas at Woodcliff.  Early in
+the evening, the rooms are lit, and the ladies dressed.  Madeline, in
+Roland's favorite brown silk, with lace collar, and sleeves, with no
+ornaments save a branch of ivy leaves and scarlet berries in her
+hair, and a handsome carbuncle set, that her husband had
+presented--Annot, in a pale blue dress, with a delicate lace frill
+around the neck and sleeves, and a few white camelias in her golden
+ringlets, that hung so gracefully around her shoulders.
+
+Standing in eager expectation near the window, they listened for the
+approach of their guests.
+
+"I hear the carriage," said Madeline, for it had been sent to the
+station to bring the expected company.
+
+Hastening out to the piazza, she welcomed her friends; Roland had
+brought out Edmund, with his mother and sister, and Helen Thornly.
+
+"Well, this is beautiful, indeed!" said Roland, as he glanced around
+at the preparations.  "I think we Scotch people lose a great deal in
+not making more of this joyous season; but really, Madeline, have not
+the fairies been at work?"
+
+"No, dear, neither fairies nor angels have had anything to do with
+it, not even Santa Claus; human hands planned all."
+
+"I know better, darling," whispered Roland; "a household angel has
+gathered these lovely flowers, and lit up this bright festival; my
+household angel, Madeline."
+
+The ladies were soon disrobed, and ready to join the cheerful party
+in the dining-room, where a genuine Christmas dinner was prepared.
+After they had done full justice to the viands, Roland exclaimed,
+smiling,
+
+"And what is to be done with this Christmas tree? are we going back
+to the days of childhood, Madeline?"
+
+"You'll see after a while," was the arch reply, as the folding doors
+were closed between the rooms.
+
+In a few minutes, the tramp of little feet on the piazza, and the
+buzz of children's voices, announced an arrival--ere they entered,
+the children, under the guidance of Philip and Susan Grant, sang a
+sweet Christmas carol.
+
+They were then admitted into the front parlor, and strange to behold
+were the large staring eyes, and open mouths of the wondering
+children, who had never seen such grandeur before!
+
+A sweet Christmas hymn, sung by ladies' voices, was heard in the room
+beyond, and when the door suddenly opened, and the sight of the
+splendid tree, illuminated from top to bottom, burst upon them, they
+could no longer restrain their expressions of delight.  The girls
+clapped their hands, and the boys stamped their feet, as they
+exclaimed,
+
+"Oh! goody gracious!  I never saw anything like that!"
+
+"Just see the heap of apples!" said one little girl.
+
+"Just look at that pretty doll!" said another.
+
+"Look at them ere glass things!  I wonder what they are."
+
+"There's a gun!" said a boy.
+
+"And there's a top!" said another; "and such a heap of things!"
+
+"And there's a whole pile of books!" said another.
+
+"Look at the bags of sugar-plums!" said a fat little urchin.  "Hurrah
+for the sugar-plums!" and the little fellow turned a summerset, and
+rolled over and over on the floor.
+
+After considerable trouble, they were all reduced to order, and
+Roland held a hat, and gave each child a card with a number on it.
+Madeline took her stand by the tree; one by one she took down the
+gifts, and, calling out the number, each happy child came forward to
+receive the present.  Each child had also a bag of sugar-plums and a
+book to take home, and a large slice of Christmas cake for present
+enjoyment.
+
+"Now, dear children," said Madeline, "we sent for you this morning to
+wish you all a happy Christmas.  This is the dear Saviour's birthday,
+when he came down to make children happy.  He gave a Christmas gift
+to all, and that was himself.  Now, because he was so full of love,
+the people who love Jesus want to do something like him, and so they
+give presents to their friends to show their love; each little gift
+that you have in your hands, my little ones, is a gift of love.  Now,
+if any of you have a sick brother or sister, or little friend, who
+could not come to-day, don't eat all your sugar-plums or cake, but
+save some for them to show that you love them.  The night that Jesus
+was born, the angels sang in the clouds over the plains of Judea; now
+let us sing our Christmas hymn," and Annot played, while Madeline led
+the singing, in which all joined.
+
+  "While shepherds watched their flocks by night,
+    All seated on the ground,
+  The angel of the Lord came down,
+    And glory shone around," &c.
+
+
+It was a happy company that hurried home that night through the
+sharp, frosty air, to tell about the wonderful tree, and the
+beautiful things at Woodcliff.
+
+Which was the happier? the little children, as they went home with
+their pretty gifts, or the young mistress of Woodcliff, who hung the
+Christmas tree to make them happy?
+
+"And now for Blue Beard's room," said Madeline, as she led the way to
+the library and unlocked the door.
+
+A bell summoned the household; and as she uncovered the table with a
+bright, beaming face, Roland looked upon his young wife, and felt
+that he was indeed a proud and happy man.
+
+"Now first, my lord and master, as a true and loyal wife," and
+Madeline spread out a beautiful wrapper made by her own hands, and,
+putting it on her husband, said--"Why it fits beautifully! it suits
+the library exactly; and here's a pair of the prettiest slippers,
+worked by Annot, and a cap and scarf for winter nights in the cars,
+by Aunt Matilda.  Now aren't you a rich man, sir? make your prettiest
+bow to the lady of the house, sir."
+
+As Roland obeyed the command in the most graceful manner, he
+whispered words that made Madeline's cheeks glow with innocent
+pleasure.
+
+"A rich man, dearest!  I do not envy the richest man in Christendom,
+Madeline."
+
+"What did he say, Madeline?" said Edmund; "there must be none but
+public speeches to-night."
+
+"Just a little sweet flattery, Edmund; let me enjoy it," and she
+threw her head slightly back, smiling archly on the speaker.
+
+Mr. Bruce was particularly pleased with his nice wrapper from
+Madeline, and beautiful Bible with fine large print, and gold
+spectacles, from Roland; Aunt Matilda with her handsome breastpin
+from Madeline, and pretty watch from Roland.
+
+"Here's my offering, Madeline," said her husband, as he opened a
+small case, and produced an elegant watch and chatelaines; "your old
+watch is not so good as formerly, dear, and I have got the very best
+that New York could afford."
+
+Madeline looked a world of thanks.  Lastly, came the servants, who,
+one by one, advanced to receive their gifts from the hands of their
+beloved young mistress.
+
+Aunt Matilda was rapidly losing her prejudices against Roland; but,
+not willing to allow herself conquered, she attributed her change of
+manner to the conviction that he really was of gentle birth at last.
+Without her consent, he was gaining daily complete ascendency even
+over her pride, yet she often wondered whether he were not more than
+he pretended.  One evening, seated together in the familiarity of
+family intercourse, Aunt Matilda turned suddenly to Roland, and said--
+
+"Are you sure, Roland, that you are not distantly connected with the
+ancient Bruce?  I have often thought you must be; for you certainly
+could not have got your carriage and manners from the common classes.
+Bruce and Gordon are grand names; I think that you must have had
+noble relatives in some of the branches."
+
+Roland smiled, as he replied--
+
+"Can you not believe, Aunt Matilda, that God can choose a vessel of
+common clay, and, by his grace, endow it with high qualities, if he
+pleases? or must all your ideal great men be of the purest porcelain?"
+
+"I cannot help thinking, Roland, that there must have been some
+porcelain among them, even though you may not know it, or care for it
+if you do."
+
+"All I can boast, Aunt Matilda, in the way of pedigree, is that my
+ancestors, as far back as I can trace them, were a hardy race of
+plain Scotch farmers, shepherds, and mountaineers, among whom were
+always found faithful, earnest ministers of the Lord Jesus; their
+greatness consisting only in heroic deeds of calm and patient
+endurance in the cause of truth and holiness."
+
+Madeline smiled archly, as she asked--
+
+"Aunty, what great deeds have the noble Hamiltons ever achieved?  I
+have never heard of any.  I believe their grandeur consisted wholly
+in their birth, in spending lives of idleness, and wasting their
+fortunes--which, I believe, drove my grandfather to this country a
+poor man--and in passing away from the world without recording one of
+their names among those who wrought heroic deeds or benefited the
+human family.  Is it not so, aunty?"
+
+Aunt Matilda was silent for a moment, but, with a mortified
+expression, said, at last--
+
+"You must allow that there is something in noble birth, Madeline."
+
+"Not apart from goodness, aunty; for I have set up my husband against
+all such pretensions."
+
+"Well, you need not be telling everybody about Roland's birth,
+anyhow."
+
+"I certainly shall take no pains to conceal it, Aunt Matilda; I am
+too proud of Roland Bruce himself."
+
+"And so am I, Madeline; but I am not going to tell everybody about
+his early days."
+
+"Conquered at last!" said Madeline, laughing heartily, as Aunt
+Matilda left the room.
+
+"She cannot let go her prejudices, Madeline; but she is a very
+kind-hearted aunt to both of us."
+
+In the early spring, Annot returned to Scotland in company with the
+Norrises; she was sorely missed at Woodcliff, but warmly welcomed by
+Uncle Malcolm and Mrs. Lindsay, who could not but realize that she
+was greatly improved by her sojourn with Madeline.  It was a sore
+trial to the good man to resign his beloved niece to any one,
+especially to one living in a foreign land; but, true to his noble
+character, seeking the happiness of those he loved, he said--
+
+"Take her Edmund, she is yours; but ye maun leave her with us a year
+ere ye claim her hand, and visit us as often as ye can."
+
+"I know the sacrifice, dear Mr. Graham, but you need not fear to
+trust your darling to me; we are all in all to each other, and, I
+trust, humbly desire to live for a better world."
+
+"I canna separate young hearts, Edmund; I know the pang, and can
+ne'er inflict it on another."
+
+A pleasant visit of a few months, daily increased Uncle Malcolm's
+respect for Edmund Norris, and he felt before he left Graham Hall,
+that in him he had found another dear son.
+
+"I do not think that I shall always lead a city life, dear sir; our
+tastes are for the country, and as soon as it can be possible, that
+shall be our permanent home."
+
+"Would that it could be in Scotland, Edmund; I should be so happy to
+have ye with me."
+
+"That is a subject for future thought, dear sir; my mother's wishes
+must be consulted."
+
+The young pair bade farewell with the sweet hope of meeting again;
+but O, how long! for one whole year! and what might not happen?  How
+many hearts have asked the same sad question?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+REUNION.
+
+The church is finished--old Mr. Bruce is delighted, for he fancies
+that he has had much to do with its completion.
+
+Stanley is settled as the pastor, and ministers with great
+acceptance.  The day has arrived for its opening, the ringing of the
+bell summons the worshippers from all quarters; and Madeline, with
+her bright and happy face, has taken charge of the choir, and sweet
+is the music which from grateful hearts rolls through the solemn
+edifice.
+
+At the close of the first Sabbath evening, the family of Woodcliff
+are gathered in the drawing-room.
+
+"How many do you number among your communicants, Stanley?" asked
+Roland.
+
+"About eighty," was the reply.
+
+"You may record me as another, Stanley, for as the head of a family,
+there must be no division in that important matter; and I can be very
+happy in worshipping with you, my dear friend, in your own solemn and
+holy forms of worship."
+
+"Thank you, dear Roland," said the wife, "this is so pleasant to have
+you with me as a fellow-communicant; we have been for a long time
+fellow-pilgrims, but this outward union is peculiarly gratifying."
+
+"You must make some allowances, dear, for my still liking a good
+old-fashioned doctrinal sermon, even if it is pretty long; and
+therefore, father and I must go once a day to the church of our
+ancestors, for that is all that I have to remind me of good old
+Scotland."
+
+"Certainly, dear Roland, and I shall go with you; good Mr. Stewart
+and I have always been the very best of friends; he is on excellent
+terms with our own pastor, for he is one of God's dear people, and I
+love him as such."
+
+Madeline is very happy, for she is busy in fitting up the pretty
+parsonage of Glendale; as soon as the finishing touch shall be given,
+Helen will take her place there, as the pastor's gentle wife.
+
+Early in the autumn, the preparations were completed, and Stanley has
+brought his bride to the pleasant home.
+
+"What a beautiful study!" said Helen, as she looked around at the
+neat furniture; "such a complete table for a minister! such a pretty
+book-case! and so well filled! such a comfortable lounge! and cosy
+rocking-chair!  I really think, husband, that I shall often bring my
+work here, when you are not too much occupied."
+
+"You will be welcome any day after twelve o'clock, Helen; for I must
+be alone until then.  I have a system to live by.  In the afternoon
+we shall ride out to visit my people, for I must make you acquainted
+with the humblest."
+
+"What a happy work is ours, dear husband! laboring together for that
+blessed kingdom which is to prevail upon the earth, and at last to
+sit down at the marriage-supper of the Lamb."
+
+At the appointed time, Edmund brought home his young Scottish bride,
+and settled in New York for the winter, spending their summers near
+Woodcliff; Annot retaining her connection with the church of her
+fathers, but often worshipping at Calvary, with the friends that she
+loved so well.
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+Ten years have passed--their rolling cycles bringing the changing
+seasons--spring, with its fresh young buds of life, summer with its
+ripening fruits, autumn with its fading glories ready to drop into
+the lap of winter; nursed tenderly through the night of nature, until
+the children of another spring proclaim their joyous advent, by the
+swelling buds, the winged songsters, the smiling skies, the music of
+babbling brooks, and balmy breath of the resurrection season.
+
+This, without the walls of Woodcliff--within also, there is growth,
+harmony with the visible works of the Divine renovator.  The little
+seed planted so long ago by feeble boyish hands has germinated; often
+seeming almost lifeless; hidden from the light and the sun, but not
+from the great husbandman, who has watched its mysterious life.
+First the little sprout, then the delicate leaflets so tender and
+faintly green, then the stronger plant.  Thus hath it been with the
+spiritual world at Woodcliff--the Divine workman invisible, the work
+so silent, yet so powerful!
+
+"The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound
+thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth:
+so is every one that is born of the Spirit."
+
+The changing culture appointed each day, each hour, each minute, on
+to the very latest breath of mortal life, by the great husbandman of
+immortal fruits.
+
+Under the eye of the glorious three, the silent, wondrous work is
+going on.  The _Father_, planning the scheme of man's redemption; the
+_Son_, executing it by sacrifice of himself; the _Spirit_, with his
+powerful breath vivifying the sleeping germs.
+
+And then the glorious harvest, when the reapers come to gather in the
+sheaves!  O, blessed day of jubilee, when Jesus comes!  There has
+been but little of the discipline of sorrow thus far in the life of
+Madeline.  That refining process was deemed best for Roland in his
+early days--now, a long season of sunshine hath succeeded, and the
+deeper incisions of grafting and pruning are reserved for future
+years.
+
+Blessed are they who wait in patience on the hand of the wise and
+loving cultivator!
+
+Ten years have passed over husband and wife, each year deepening and
+purifying their love.
+
+Each anniversary of her wedding day, Madeline has learned to look
+under her pillow for some sweet token of affection.  A faithful
+likeness of himself, finely set, a handsome pin with his mother and
+sister's hair, a rich diamond ring, with united initials engraved
+within the circlet, and various other dear mementoes, have marked
+each returning wedding day.
+
+Three lovely children are added to the domestic circle; Malcolm
+Graham, a boy of seven, Mary Gordon, a child of five, and Lilian, a
+sweet prattler of three years, fill the halls of Woodcliff with their
+merry voices.  One lovely boy, their little Lewis, sleeps in the
+quiet cemetery, and the infant spirit has formed another tie to
+beckon the parents heavenward.
+
+Another anniversary morning has arrived, and the pictures of her
+household darlings greet Madeline on her first awaking.
+
+"This is indeed a treasure!" said the happy wife, "how perfect is the
+likeness! you could have given me nothing that can please me better!
+and now, dear, here is my own little keep-sake for this happy day,"
+and Madeline produced a beautiful miniature of herself, in the bloom
+of her ripe womanhood.
+
+"Ten years, Madeline, have passed, and I can say truly 'how much the
+wife is dearer than the bride,'" and Roland fondly kissed the sweet
+lips, and calm, pure forehead, of the one he loved so well.
+
+Stephen Bruce grows cheerful in the society of his grand-children,
+and seems to be renewing his youth among these dear prattlers; his
+piety is becoming more and more simple-hearted, more like that of a
+little child.
+
+Roland is daily growing more influential; and notwithstanding his
+high principles of integrity, after a few years, there is found
+virtue enough to send him to the Senate of the United States, and
+Aunt Matilda is becoming quite reconciled that Madeline should be the
+wife of a Senator.
+
+At Washington in winter, Madeline is too truly a mother to leave her
+children at Woodcliff, and too faithful, as a wife, to part from her
+husband; consequently, the house is left under the care of a
+housekeeper, and the family-circle take up their abode at the capital.
+
+Madeline's attractions draw around her a number of admirers, who are
+anxious to bring her into their circle as a new star; but devoted to
+her calling as wife and mother, she simply returns the calls of the
+leaders of fashion, and resolutely avoids the frivolity of the giddy
+world.  Aunt Matilda is sadly chagrined, for she had anticipated
+Madeline's triumphs with great exultation.
+
+"I cannot consent, dear aunt, to such a life," replied the wife to
+her remonstrances; "if I were running this round of folly, what would
+become of my household darlings?" and steadily, she pursued the quiet
+tenor of her beautiful life.  Occasionally, she accepted invitations
+to dinner-parties, always being there the centre of attraction.
+
+One pleasure she felt that she must indulge in, for whenever she knew
+that her husband was to speak in Congress, Madeline was always one of
+the most attentive listeners to his eloquence, ever on the side of
+the right, the true the good.
+
+"What were you musing about this morning, Madeline?" said her
+husband; "I saw you in the gallery surrounded by so many ladies, all
+busily engaged in conversation, and you in such a deep brown study."
+
+She smiled as he replied, "I was thinking, Roland, about my childish
+days; and was seated in memory by the lake at Woodcliff, when tired
+of playing with my gold-fish, I used to amuse myself by throwing in
+pebbles, and watching the little circles, as they widened in their
+course, until I could trace them no longer.  I thought, Roland, of
+the boy on the shore at Woodcliff; I saw you just as you stood that
+day when first I met you; I traced all your course, comparing it to
+the little pebble thrown carelessly into the lake, drawing one circle
+of influence round the spoiled child at Woodcliff, then beyond, at
+college, another round Norris and Stanley, then around Helen Thornly,
+another around my dear father through your own sister Effie, then a
+broader, wider circle, embracing the poor, neglected news-boys of New
+York, and encircling Woodcliff; and now a broader still around the
+country that you serve, until I am lost in wonder, and can trace it
+no farther; truly human influence is a wonderful agent, and we ought
+both to exclaim 'What hath God wrought!'"
+
+"How little did we know, dear wife, of the power of my mother's
+blessed words, when she bade me 'Look aloft;' I listened to them,
+then, as simply comforting; I have learned since how they have guided
+my path as a beacon light, to beckon me onward."
+
+A servant entered, interrupting the conversation.
+
+"Mr. Bruce, a gentleman wishes to see you," and Roland entering the
+parlor, is greeted by the fast friend of his college days, Dr.
+Kingsley.
+
+"How are you, my son?" said the good man, as he heartily shook
+Roland's hand.
+
+"I came to congratulate you on your success to-day, for I was in the
+Senate Chamber and heard your speech; I cannot tell how my old heart
+swelled with pride as I listened, and remembered you, Roland, as one
+of my sons.  I always knew that you would leave your mark upon the
+world, and do honor to your Alma Mater."
+
+"I can never cease to thank you, Dr. Kingsley; for had you turned me
+away, I had no other resource."
+
+"And then, Roland, the world would have lost a noble laborer in the
+cause of all that is good and true."
+
+"You will not reject other poor aspirants, my good friend, for there
+are many struggling spirits who need just such a hand as yours to
+guide, and such a heart to sympathize."
+
+Introducing his old friend to Madeline, an hour's pleasant
+intercourse closed the interview, with a cordial invitation to the
+good man to visit them at Woodcliff.
+
+"Congress will adjourn to-morrow night," said Roland.
+
+"Then for dear Woodcliff," answered Madeline; "are you not glad,
+father?" turning to old Mr. Bruce.
+
+"Yes, indeed, there is sae much that needs my care, an' I am tired o'
+this noisy, bustling place; but I am glad that I came; for I canna be
+separated frae the bonnie darlings."
+
+Immediately on the close of the session, they turned their faces
+homeward, and a joyful party met once more around the domestic
+fireside.  The winter curtains were yet up, for it was cold and
+cheerless out of doors, and a warm fire and cheerful supper greeted
+them, with Stanley and his wife ready to welcome them home again.
+The next morning, Roland came in from the library with the delightful
+news, that Uncle Malcolm and Aunt Lindsay were coming to pay a visit
+to America.
+
+"The best room shall be prepared for dear Uncle Malcolm," said
+Madeline, and she busied herself in making ready for the good old
+friend.
+
+"They will be here in three weeks, at the farthest," said Roland,
+"and we must have a nice lounge, and rocking-chair put in his room,
+plenty of books, and a secretary; for Uncle Malcolm could not be
+happy without his usual pursuits."
+
+Annot was sent for, with her husband, and two sweet children, little
+Roland and Anna, the one five, the other three years old.
+
+"I can scarcely wait," said the anxious daughter, "for it is seven
+years since I hae seen my mother."
+
+One evening Roland arrived from New York with the news that the
+steamer was below.
+
+"They will be here to-morrow or next day," was the answer to Annot's
+anxious questions.
+
+Merry as a kitten, she was never tired of telling her little ones
+that Grandma and Uncle Malcolm were coming.
+
+Old Mr. Bruce and his grandchildren were playing on the front
+lawn--little Malcolm driving his sister Lilian in a small carriage;
+and grandfather amusing himself by keeping close to their side, to
+keep them from danger.
+
+Suddenly, Mary cried out,
+
+"There comes the carriage!" and the little girls ran rapidly into the
+house with the news; while Malcolm, holding his grandfather's hand,
+stood in anxious expectation of the arrival.
+
+The carriage stops--Annot is folded in the arms of her dear mother,
+and Uncle Malcolm grasps warmly the extended hands of Roland and
+Madeline.
+
+"Welcome a thousand times to Woodcliff, dear uncle!" exclaims Roland;
+and Stephen Bruce also advances with a timid step, but placid smile,
+to greet the new comers.
+
+"What little boy is this?" asks the good man, as he lays his hand on
+the head of Roland's son, standing by anxious to be noticed by the
+stranger.
+
+"This is Malcolm Graham," answered the happy father.
+
+Mr. Graham changed countenance, and whispered,
+
+"How came this, Roland?  I aye thought it strange that ye did na name
+him Stephen."
+
+"My father named the boy himself."
+
+Uncle Malcolm smiled gratefully at this token of entire forgetfulness
+of the painful past, and lifting the dear child in his arms, kissed
+him fondly, as he laid the hand of blessing on his dark brown hair.
+
+While Madeline is presenting her other darlings, Annot's eyes are
+moistened with happy tears, as she leads little Roland and Anna up to
+their grandma and uncle, who pronounce them "darling pets," and the
+proud young mother is full of innocent delight.
+
+Changes have taken place in all the party--ten years have added many
+silver hairs to Malcolm Graham's noble head, but to him they are
+indeed a crown of glory.
+
+Mrs. Lindsay is stouter and more matronly--Madeline has exchanged the
+bewitching charms of young girlhood for the ripe beauty of a queenly
+woman, retaining still the brightness and vivacity of early youth,
+and the arch expression of her lovely face.
+
+Roland is a noble man of thirty-seven, with a fine, commanding
+figure, the same dark eagle eye, and sweet expressive smile of
+benevolence.
+
+Annot is no more the lovely child, with her wealth of golden ringlets
+falling round her face and shoulders; but the blooming wife in the
+first flush of sweet young womanhood.
+
+Seated between the two, Uncle Malcolm takes the hand of each, saying,
+
+"Here are baith my daughters! well, ye are making Uncle Malcolm an
+auld mon, wi' yer bairns skipping around me; but I hope that my heart
+will ne'er grow old."
+
+"You will never grow old in feeling, uncle," said Madeline; "and we
+are so happy to have you with us; but you must be tired; come, Annot,
+let us show Uncle his room."
+
+Each taking an arm, they led him to his pleasant chamber; Annot
+retiring with her mother, and Madeline busying herself about Uncle
+Malcolm.
+
+"Here is a warm winter wrapper, and a pair of chamber slippers; I
+knew that you would like them, uncle."
+
+The old gentleman sat down in his comfortable chair; and, looking
+around on all the arrangements of his room, with the bright fire
+lighting up the whole, said,
+
+"Well, Madeline! this is comfort! ye will spoil the auld mon among
+ye."
+
+"No danger, dear uncle," as she kissed the calm forehead; "we can
+never do too much for you, for are you not my husband's dearest,
+warmest friend?"
+
+Sweet was the incense of gratitude and praise that ascended from the
+family altar that night, as Uncle Malcolm led the devotions, and
+Madeline conducted the singing of the hymn.
+
+The next morning, after breakfast, Uncle Malcolm called Roland aside,
+and said,
+
+"Tak' me to the spot most sacred in America;" and, alone, they
+proceeded, with solemn step, to the cemetery.
+
+Standing at the foot of his mother's grave, the strong man stood for
+some minutes in silence, reading the inscription on the humble
+tomb-stone; then Uncle Malcolm, overpowered by the floods of sad and
+touching memories, lifted up his voice, and wept aloud.  Roland stood
+with his arm around the old man, and whispered,
+
+"We must not mourn for her, dear uncle, a blessed spirit around the
+throne."
+
+"I dinna, Roland; but I could na but feel how happy I should hae made
+her; how I wad hae sheltered her frae the rough world; for while I
+was enjoying a' that wealth could gie, my puir Mary was suffering
+years o' penury an' toil."
+
+"It is past, dear uncle; through all her trials she enjoyed the peace
+of God, which passeth all understanding; and there is the blessed
+hope of reunion; do you not think that we shall know each other in
+the better land?"
+
+"I do, my son, confidently hope to meet that blessed spirit, purified
+an' full o' holy love, where there shall be nae mair parting; while I
+live, Roland, I shall luve her memory," (and he took out of his
+pocket-book once more the lock of golden hair,) "that must be buried
+wi' me, Roland."
+
+None asked where Uncle Malcolm had been, for the serious and tender
+expression that dwelt upon his face, and softened the tones of his
+voice throughout the day, spoke volumes.
+
+Interested in all the benevolent schemes around Woodcliff, Malcolm
+rode out with Roland; and, with a full heart, listened to the account
+of all their plans for good.  On Sunday he attended the church at
+Glendale; and as he listened to the Christian statesman, seated so
+humbly before his large class of young men, he could not but bless
+God for the grace which had so faithfully directed the footsteps of
+this good steward of his Master's gifts.
+
+As he watched the earnest look, the respectful reverence, the deep
+interest of the youth who surrounded Roland, he rejoiced in the
+inward conviction that none of this good seed would fall to the
+ground unblessed; and many a tale of sacred influence and private
+benevolence reached the ears of Uncle Malcolm in his private visits
+among the people of Woodcliff, for Roland was not one to blazon his
+own good deeds.
+
+"We hae had a blessed day!" said the good man, at the close of a
+Sabbath-day at Woodcliff; "what a holy privilege we hae enjoyed in
+worshipping a common Saviour!" for they had attended on the services
+of each church, and had heard faithful discourses from both ministers.
+
+"Stanley seems a maist devoted mon," said Uncle Malcolm, "how meikle
+o' Christ there is in his sermons!"
+
+"Yes, that is the secret of his success; while he does not neglect
+nor undervalue the scaffolding of the Christian church, the whole
+power of his ministry is to lead sinners to build their hopes upon
+the corner-stone, Christ Jesus our Lord."
+
+"It seems to me, Roland, when the heart is filled with luve to the
+Master, an' a sense o' the danger o' immortal souls, men canna spend
+their time in preaching sae meikle on these minor things.  I hae
+felt, syne I hae been amang ye, perfect communion o' spirit, for I
+hae heard naught but Jesus, an' him crucified."
+
+"I have often thought, dear uncle, how sweet is this communion of
+saints!  How blessed is the feeling that every Sunday so many
+pilgrims are worshipping the dear Redeemer in the great cathedrals of
+vast cities, and the lowly temples of the village lanes of good old
+England; the solemn worship of its ancient church mingles with that
+of its American child, throughout the length and breadth of this vast
+country; while the prayers and hymns of Christians mingle daily from
+the hills of Scotland, and the green island of the shamrock.  All
+over the world the songs of pilgrims, on their heavenward march, roll
+up to Heaven; and, dear uncle, when you are in Scotland, we can still
+commune in spirit; you, in your fathers' venerable church, and we in
+the one we love."
+
+"'Tis a vera holy bond, Roland, an' wae be to the Christian who can
+allow bigotry or intolerance to chill sic holy worship."
+
+"Let us never forget, dear uncle, the tie of Christian brotherhood as
+the dearest and purest of all earthly bonds."
+
+"I could na bear to think o' parting, my son, if I did na realize
+this sacred bond o' union."
+
+Many such hours of hallowed intercourse were spent between these two
+noble spirits, so elevated above the common masses of humanity.
+
+Little Malcolm is a child of promise; and the parents are teaching
+diligently the first great lesson of obedience to their children; not
+a day passes without its lessons: "Line upon line, precept upon
+precept," looking upward for God's blessing, both parents train their
+dear children in paths of obedience, truth and love.  Little Mary is
+a gentle, loving child; but Lilian is a repetition of Madeline,
+happily under the controlling influence of wise and loving guidance.
+Aunt Clara is daily ripening for the skies.
+
+Lavinia, the same vain, frivolous devotee of fashion, no longer
+young, still unmarried, is rapidly becoming that most unhappy of all
+miserable beings, a censorious and disappointed old maid.
+
+The declining years of Stephen Bruce are calm and tranquil;
+surrounded by a family who encircle him with tender, affectionate
+reverence, his latter days are his best; and he is passing on to "the
+rest that remaineth," full of calm unshaken trust in his Saviour.
+Stanley has gathered round him a devoted flock; and Helen is the
+happy wife of a tender husband, the mother of a lovely family, the
+helper of her husband's labors; sharing in his cares and sorrows, as
+well as in his joys.
+
+Glendale is a blessed sanctuary, and Calvary Church the centre of a
+holy influence in the midst of the homes of Woodcliff.
+
+Harry and Charles have not learned wisdom yet, for their youth was
+one of folly, and they are reaping the fruits, in advancing years, of
+uselessness and discontent; affections withered, intellects wasting,
+time flying, and their Lord coming for his reckoning--such is the
+life of thousands--who can bear to read their everlasting destiny?
+"Cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness."
+
+Uncle Malcolm's visit is drawing to an end, and he seeks an occasion
+of private conference with Edmund.
+
+"My son, I feel as if I canna gae hame wi'out ye and Annot; I am
+growing auld, Edmund, an' the cares o' life begin to weigh heavily
+upon me; why na move yer family to Scotland?"
+
+"It would be just the life that I should love, Uncle Malcolm; for
+years I have longed for the country.  I am not calculated for
+commercial pursuits, and I know that Annot would only be too happy to
+be once more in her dear old home; there is but one difficulty--my
+mother would so mourn over the separation."
+
+"I hae enow to occupy us baith, Edmund; an' there are sae mony
+openings for usefu'ness, I am sure that we should be happy together.
+Then I am anxious that Annot's bairns should be trained in Scotland,
+for their inheritance will be there."
+
+Edmund spoke to Annot on the subject.
+
+"Can it be, dear Edmund?  I hae sae langed for a return to my ain
+land, an' I agree perfectly wi' Uncle Malcolm that Scotland is the
+hame for our bairns."
+
+Mrs. Lindsay most earnestly added her influence, and Mrs. Norris,
+convinced that it was for Edmund's worldly prosperity, finally
+consented.  American friends were pained to miss the dear faces of
+Annot's family from among their circle, but both Roland and Madeline
+saw that it was right.
+
+Uncle Malcolm had learned to love his little namesake, and, on the
+evening before their departure, took the child into his own room,
+and, after warm, affectionate counsels, prayed with the dear boy for
+God's blessing on his childhood and his youth.  Going to his
+secretary, he brought out a handsome rosewood writing-desk,
+completely furnished.
+
+"This, my boy, is frae Uncle Malcolm; as soon as ye are auld enow, I
+hope that ye will mak guid use o' it.  Ye will find i' the stable,
+too, a dear little pony that I hae bought for my namesake to ride; he
+is quite safe, an' papa will teach ye how to ride; ye maun ca' him
+Selim, after mamma's pony."
+
+"Thank you, dear good Uncle Malcolm; I'll try to be a good boy, and
+then you won't be sorry for these gifts," and the boy kissed the good
+old man again and again.
+
+Going down stairs, he called the little girls to his side.
+
+"Noo, Mary, what do ye think that Uncle Malcolm has for his bonnie
+lassie?"
+
+"I know just what I want, uncle."
+
+"What is it, my bairn? dinna be afraid to tell."
+
+"I want a pretty baby-house, uncle, for Lilian and me."
+
+Uncle Malcolm smiled pleasantly, and, taking the hands of the little
+girls, led them into the library, and there was the sweetest
+baby-house, entirely furnished with such a handsome outfit, and,
+seated on chairs in another part of the room, two beautiful dolls
+from Aunt Lindsay.  They were quite beside themselves; Mary in quiet
+wonder, and Lilian skipping about the room in ecstasy.
+
+"Noo, mamma, I hae only ane request to mak, an' that is, should these
+little lassies quarrel aboot these gifts, please deprive them o'
+their use for ane whole month; but I hope that they will na be sae
+naughty."
+
+Both the children thanked good Uncle Malcolm, and, kissing each
+other, made faithful promises not to dispute about the pretty gifts.
+The day of parting had arrived; always painful, but doubly so now, as
+it removed a dear family from the midst of this circle of friends,
+with but little prospect of meeting again on this side of the better
+land.
+
+"God bless ye! my ain dear children," said Uncle Malcolm, as he laid
+his hand upon the heads of Roland and Madeline; "let us aye remember
+the precious words o' our departed saint, 'Looking aloft,'" and tears
+trembled in the eyes of the good man as he tenderly repeated the
+blessed words.
+
+The carriage drove off with a tearful company, and Roland, kissing
+the lips and encircling the wife with his sustaining arm, led her in
+to the library.
+
+"This is life, dear Madeline; there must be partings here.  Reunion,
+lasting and eternal, must be beyond this mortal shore."
+
+Life still rolls on at Woodcliff.  Roland and Madeline have not yet
+reached the perfection of existence; but, as far as mortals can,
+theirs is truly living--living that life on earth which shall be
+perfected hereafter in the kingdom that is coming.
+
+'Tis true that these are the creations of fiction--ideal man and
+woman--but let none say that such can never dwell in mortal flesh.
+Christ came to make such.  There is not one trait exhibited here, but
+is commanded in the Gospel, and from which can be drawn grace to form
+just such characters upon the earth.  Such monuments of grace have
+walked the earth like angels, and such there will be again; for there
+is a time coming, when the world will be filled with such lively
+stones, in the glorious temple that shall hereafter be erected on the
+earth.  Why should not she who writes, and they who read, seek to be
+one of these highly-polished living stones?
+
+'Tis true that to mortal vision, this blessed kingdom does not _seem_
+very near; for throughout the world are sounds of war, and tumult,
+and confusion; man slaying his brother man on many fields of combat,
+and the sweet dove of peace and love _far, far_ away; but there are
+yet some left on earth in whose bosoms dwell, by bright
+anticipations, the spirit of the millennium; above this strife and
+tumult, dwelling in a world of their own, with folded hands, uplifted
+eyes, and hearts whose pulsations are one eternal prayer.  Precious
+witnesses for the kingdom of peace, and love, and holiness, yet to
+come!  To come!  Blessed be God! to come!  And this little pilgrim
+band whom we have followed so long, still "Looking aloft," and seeing
+Him who is invisible, may confidently look for that everlasting
+glorious kingdom.
+
+"Looking aloft!" blessed talisman against the spirit of worldliness,
+selfishness, and strife of every kind!  "Looking aloft!"  It inspired
+Noah when sheltered safely in the ark, calm and happy amidst the
+overwhelming deluge of wrath.  It calmed the trusting heart of holy
+Daniel in the den of lions, stilling their angry growls, and closing
+their bloodthirsty jaws.  It sustained David in the hour of his
+darkest trials, and, centuries ago, inspired those sublime Psalms of
+holy confidence which multitudes still sing in their pilgrimage as
+they are marching home.  It wakened the songs of triumph in the
+prison of Paul and Silas, and cheered the great apostle beneath the
+uplifted axe of the bloody Nero.
+
+It lit up smiles of joy and peace upon the faces of that holy band of
+martyrs who were stoned, sawn asunder, and burned at the fiery stake,
+when even woman's earnest eye and childhood's tender glance were
+turned calmly upward to the glorious Saviour; and from the stake and
+the block the martyr's gaze of faith pierced the heavens, as,
+"Looking aloft," they saw Him who is invisible.
+
+Blessed talisman! sufficient for those dark and stormy days, it is
+enough for all life's woes, and cares, and sorrows.  It hath
+sustained Roland Bruce in the days of poverty, trial, and
+bereavement; and hath brought him into the quiet waters of
+usefulness, peace, and love, with "the promise of the life that now
+is, and of that which is to come" all fulfilled.  Hand in hand with
+the chosen partner of his joys and sorrows, we bid them both
+farewell; with the certainty that such a union will be peaceful and
+blessed while they tread life's changing scenes, and, in the world to
+come, will be crowned by blissful, eternal reunion, so long as their
+motto, beaming from the pole-star of hope, remains "LOOKING ALOFT."
+
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+[Transcriber's note: there are several instances of Madeline taking
+off, or putting on, her "flat".  It's unknown if a flat is a type of
+hat, or if it's a typographical error for "hat".  All instances have
+been left as printed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76570 ***
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+<title>
+The Project Gutenberg eBook of Woodcliff, by Harriet B. McKeever
+</title>
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+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76570 ***</div>
+
+<h1>
+<br><br>
+  WOODCLIFF.<br>
+</h1>
+
+<p><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+  BY<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="t2">
+  HARRIET B. McKEEVER,<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="t4">
+  AUTHOR OF "EDITH'S MINISTRY," "SUNSHINE," "FLOUNCED ROBE," ETC.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+  PHILADELPHIA:<br>
+  LINDSAY & BLAKISTON.<br>
+  1865.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t4">
+  Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, by<br>
+  LINDSAY & BLAKISTON,<br>
+  in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States<br>
+  for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="t4">
+  STEREOTYPED BY J. FAGAN & SON. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; PRINTED BY SHERMAN & CO.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t3b">
+  CONTENTS.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+  CHAPTER<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent" style="line-height: 1.5">
+  I.&mdash;<a href="#chap01">The Sea-Shore</a><br>
+  II.&mdash;<a href="#chap02">A Ride on Horseback</a><br>
+  III.&mdash;<a href="#chap03">Maddy's Triumph</a><br>
+  IV.&mdash;<a href="#chap04">Too Proud to Bend</a><br>
+  V.&mdash;<a href="#chap05">Youthful Visions</a><br>
+  VI.&mdash;<a href="#chap06">A Scotch Matron</a><br>
+  VII.&mdash;<a href="#chap07">The Cottage and the Hall</a><br>
+  VIII.&mdash;<a href="#chap08">Boston Relatives</a><br>
+  IX.&mdash;<a href="#chap09">Home Again</a><br>
+  X.&mdash;<a href="#chap10">Sunshine at the Hall, Shadows at the Cottage</a><br>
+  XI.&mdash;<a href="#chap11">A Mother's Life Sorrow</a><br>
+  XII.&mdash;<a href="#chap12">Stars in the Night Season</a><br>
+  XIII.&mdash;<a href="#chap13">Driftwood</a><br>
+  XIV.&mdash;<a href="#chap14">Excelsior</a><br>
+  XV.&mdash;<a href="#chap15">Strife</a><br>
+  XVI.&mdash;<a href="#chap16">Rugged Hills for Weary Feet</a><br>
+  XVII.&mdash;<a href="#chap17">Mirage, or Madeline after a Triumph</a><br>
+  XVIII.&mdash;<a href="#chap18">The Early Dawn</a><br>
+  XIX.&mdash;<a href="#chap19">"Auld Lang Syne"</a><br>
+  XX.&mdash;<a href="#chap20">Out in the Light</a><br>
+  XXI.&mdash;<a href="#chap21">Searching for Scottish Friends</a><br>
+  XXII.&mdash;<a href="#chap22">Mist on the Mountain</a><br>
+  XXIII.&mdash;<a href="#chap23">Graham Hall</a><br>
+  XXIV.&mdash;<a href="#chap24">Wings Clipped that had Commenced to Soar</a><br>
+  XXV.&mdash;<a href="#chap25">Parting from English Friends</a><br>
+  XXVI.&mdash;<a href="#chap26">The First Link Lost and Found</a><br>
+  XXVII.&mdash;<a href="#chap27">Hearts' Ease</a><br>
+  XXVIII.&mdash;<a href="#chap28">Seaweed</a><br>
+  XXIX.&mdash;<a href="#chap29">Beatitudes</a><br>
+  XXX.&mdash;<a href="#chap30">Fellow Heirs of the Grace of Life</a><br>
+  XXXI.&mdash;<a href="#chap31">Reunion</a><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap01"></a></p>
+
+<p class="t2">
+WOODCLIFF.
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER I.
+<br><br>
+THE SEA-SHORE.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+It is a summer afternoon&mdash;the light fleecy clouds float
+lazily over the glowing landscape&mdash;the sun is shining
+brightly over the deep blue waves, gilding their crested
+foam with sparkling diamonds, and lighting up the golden
+hair of a little girl, who sits upon the beach, gazing out
+upon the wide-spread ocean.  It is a graceful form which
+sits there, tapping her dainty little foot, and laying her
+hand caressingly, every now and then, upon the head of
+her favorite old dog, Hector.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her hat is thrown down by her side, and leaves uncovered
+a head of remarkable beauty: the deep blue eyes,
+fringed with their dark lashes, express a world of feeling;
+the delicately arched nostril and curved mouth betoken
+pride, but a troop of dimples is playing around that
+expressive feature, lighting up the whole face with arch
+humor; the transparent complexion, through which glows, in
+rosy tints, the feelings of her sensitive nature, lends its
+finishing touch of enchanting loveliness to the sweet
+picture; and, as the sea-breeze lifts the flowing ringlets which
+lie in such rich profusion around her shoulders, seldom
+could be seen such a revelation of bright and happy
+childhood as the young being who sits there, singing one of her
+favorite songs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A passer-by, who knows something of the thorny paths
+of life's pilgrimage, would scarce know which to do, to
+sigh or smile at the glimpse of such a beaming face; but
+the ever-changing expression and flitting color would be
+most likely to cause a sigh, as one might anticipate the
+discipline which such a spirit must taste in a rough and
+stormy world.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But we will not anticipate sorrows, sweet child!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bright days of happy childhood are before thee!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She certainly dreams of nothing yet but joy, and hope,
+and love.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You're a good dog, Hector&mdash;don't we love each other,
+old fellow?" and Madeline stooped down to rub her cheek
+against her pet's shaggy head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Looking up in her face as though he understood all she
+said, he seemed proud of his little friend's caresses, and
+making a kind of pleasant growl, he put up his shaggy paw,
+as was his custom, when he wanted to be especially petted.
+Not far from where she sits, may be seen a group of children
+playing with their wheelbarrows.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A little girl of six, and two older boys are busily engaged
+in filling their barrows with shining white pebbles,
+and while pursuing their innocent play, they prattle
+merrily together about the riches which they supposed
+themselves to be gathering.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But little difference is there between these children and
+men of larger growth&mdash;for these are gathering pebbles, and
+men are gathering dust.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look here!  Philip," said the little girl, "I am sure that
+this is a real diamond; don't you remember when John
+Stanley came from Cape May, what a heap of diamonds he
+brought with him, and sold them for ever so much money?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, sis, but then you know that he said you might
+gather a great many pebbles, before you get one diamond?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But I'm sure, Philip, that I have found a great many;
+so clear and so big; I'm so glad, because I'll give 'em all
+to mother, and we shall be so rich; she won't have to work
+so hard any longer; I could work here all day if I could
+only see dear mother smile again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, you're a good little girl, sis, and I hope that we
+shall find that you are right," and as they continued their
+innocent employment, they sang cheerily, and little Susan,
+in her delight, would frequently stop to clap her hands, and
+dance with joy.  Just then, a couple of boys came up, who
+had been watching the children for some time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were clad in the height of boyish fashion, and with
+a conceited air, approached our little speculators, tapping
+their pantaloons with their canes, and with a supercilious
+manner, accosted them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What are you about there, you little fools?" said Harry
+Castleton.  "Do you call these stones that you have been
+wheeling up diamonds? they're nothing but common pebbles,
+and you're a set of fools for your pains&mdash;you'd better
+go home, and dig potatoes," and rudely snatching the
+wheelbarrow, Harry tumbled it down to the edge of the
+surf, and upset all the contents into the ocean; while
+Charles Davenport stood by snapping his fingers with
+malicious delight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a dreadful loss to poor little Susan, who burst into
+a bitter fit of weeping, and Philip stood looking angrily on.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These were larger boys, and neither of Susan's brothers
+felt old enough to attack them, although they were boiling
+with anger.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just at that moment, a poor boy who had seen the whole
+proceeding, stepped up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+'Tis true that he wore patched pantaloons, which were
+too short, and an old threadbare jacket; but his linen collar,
+though coarse, was white; and his shoes, though very old
+and worn out, were neatly tied with black strings&mdash;poverty
+was stamped upon his attire, but nobility upon his broad
+expansive brow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A look of manliness which shot from his fine dark eyes,
+and the firmness which compressed the lip, rather overawed
+the boys who saw him advancing; but when their mean
+spirits perceived the poverty of his attire, contempt
+mastered their temporary fear, and they stood ready for the
+encounter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For shame! young gentlemen," said the boy, "couldn't
+you find your equals in size and age when you attempt
+such cowardly acts?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Who are you, sir?" said Harry Castleton, "that you
+dare speak to your betters in such a tone? take yourself
+off in a minute, or I'll lay the weight of my cane across
+your face."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm a boy like yourself, young gentleman, but I scorn
+to attack weak little children in their plays, or to fight with
+puppies."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you dare to call me a puppy?" shouted Harry Castleton,
+and flying at the boy, he dealt him a violent blow
+across the face, causing the blood to fly from his nose, and
+at the same moment, kicking the little wheelbarrow out into
+the ocean.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The little girl with the golden locks had been looking on
+the scene, but as soon as she saw the blow struck by the
+young upstart, she flew towards the boy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, Harry Castleton! aren't you ashamed of yourself! first
+to disturb these poor little children, and then to make
+a coward of yourself by attacking a boy that won't fight?"
+and hastening up to the boy, she took her delicate
+handkerchief, and wiping his bleeding nose, she said kindly,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am afraid that you are hurt."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not much, miss, it's only a trifle;" but as she seated
+the boy, she perceived the blood gushing from a wound in
+the temple, that she had not seen before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Running to the surf, she brought the handkerchief back
+again, and with the most tender, generous care, continued
+wiping the blood which still kept oozing from the wound.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Charles and Harry stood by sneering.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Really, coz," said Charles, "you are making a fool of
+yourself, waiting upon a beggar boy, as if he were the son
+of a gentleman."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I don't think that fine clothes always make the gentleman;
+for I'm sure I've learned this afternoon, that the feelings
+of a gentleman may lodge under a threadbare jacket;
+what is your name young gentleman?" continued the
+child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My name is Roland Bruce," was the answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And mine is Madeline Hamilton," was the frank response.
+"Why didn't you knock Harry down!  I should have
+been so angry that I'm sure I should have struck back
+again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was very angry, miss, but I've been taught that 'He
+who mastereth his spirit, is better than he that taketh a
+city.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But when you are struck, I think that you ought to
+defend yourself."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I did, by trying to ward off the blow; but I should have
+made it no better by stooping to fight with such a boy as
+that."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, I'm glad to see that you're a proud boy,"
+continued the child, laughing, "and I'm sure that you made
+those upstarts ashamed of themselves&mdash;see how they're
+slinking off!  I'm ashamed to call Charles Davenport
+cousin&mdash;do you feel better?" added the little girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, thank you, I'm much obliged to you for your
+kindness; and here, miss, is your pocket-handkerchief."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I don't want it," said the child; "you must wear it
+home," and she tied it carefully over the wounded temple.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As the boy raised his cap to bid her good afternoon,
+looking after him, she said aloud, "I wonder what is meant
+by a nobleman, nature's nobleman?  I guess that's one&mdash;I'd
+rather call him cousin, with his patched clothes, than that
+mean, contemptible pair."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus soliloquized Madeline Hamilton, the spoiled and
+petted child of rich Mr. Hamilton, of Woodcliff.  Turning
+to little Susan, who still cried for her wheelbarrow, she
+said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Let us see if we can't find your barrow," and running
+down to the shore, she found that it had been washed up,
+and was fastened between a couple of large stones, from
+which she soon lifted it, and restored it to the poor child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come over to Woodcliff to-morrow, and Aunt Matilda
+will give you something."  Then giving the child particular
+directions, Madeline returned to the spot where she had
+left her flat, and calling Hector, hastened home.  It was a
+tolerably long walk, and by the time that she reached home,
+it was late sundown.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She entered full of excitement.  Throwing down her flat,
+and seating herself at the tea-table, she commenced telling
+her adventure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunt Matilda," continued the child, "what is a
+nobleman&mdash;nature's nobleman?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, a nobleman is one who is born of a noble family,
+to be sure," was the answer.  "Our descent is English,
+and our ancestors were all nobles."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Once I remember that you told me a nobleman was
+coming to dine with us, and I expected to see a very grand
+person; and when he came, he was only a little man, who
+took snuff out of a gold snuff-box, drank wine, and talked
+about hunting.  I didn't see anything noble about him.
+Another time, our pastor said that Mr. Linwood would call
+upon us, who had divided a very large fortune equally
+among his brothers and sisters, though they had all been
+cut off by the father's will.  Our pastor called him noble,
+because he had done a noble deed.  Now, aunty, there is
+no use to try to make me believe anything else&mdash;everybody
+is noble who does noble acts; and I don't care how he is
+dressed, or where he lives.  Now, aunty, don't be affronted,
+I can't help my feelings; I do love good people, and
+high-spirited people, even in rags; and I hate mean, low-minded
+people, even dressed in fine clothes.  I can't act deceitfully;
+they make me mad, and I can't help showing it.  Now,
+aunty, what is a gentleman?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"One who is brought up with the manners of a gentleman,
+who dresses like a gentleman, and who belongs to a
+genteel family."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, aunt, I suppose then that you call Charles
+Davenport a gentleman?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, to be sure I do."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, I call him a vulgar, low-bred boy; and, aunt,
+I suppose that you would call Roland Bruce, with his
+patched clothes, short pantaloons, and old jacket, a
+common boy?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To be sure I would, child; why, what is he?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, I think he must be one of nature's noblemen, for
+he looked ever so much grander than Charles or Harry, as
+he stood on the beach, taking the part of poor little
+children, and wouldn't fight, either.  They looked really mean
+in their fine dress, and he looked like a hero in his poor
+clothes.  Give me nature's nobleman, after all, aunty."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Brother, just listen to the child," said Aunt Matilda; "did
+you ever hear such horrid talk?  I can't instil any proper
+pride into that girl."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Hamilton threw himself back in his chair, and
+laughed heartily at what he called "Madcap's spirit," and
+told his sister "not to be alarmed, for he was afraid that
+they'd find too much pride there some day, for either of
+them to manage."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Matilda loved her high-spirited little niece, and
+found it very easy to forgive her; but she was often sadly
+afraid that she would forget her rank, and disgrace her
+family, by improper connexions.  Soon after tea was over,
+Charles and Harry made their appearance, but Madeline
+was still so indignant that she quickly left the room, and
+steadily refused all her aunt's entreaties to return.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They're a mean pair, aunty, and I can't see either of
+them this evening," was all the response that she could
+obtain from her wilful little niece.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Before retiring, the warm-hearted child sought her father's
+study, and seating herself on his lap, laid her cheek softly
+against his, and said, "Papa, kiss me before I go to bed.
+If I've said anything wrong, forgive me, dear papa."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, little Mad-cap, you've done nothing wrong; only,
+dear, I don't want you to associate with all kinds of
+common people."  And thus the impulsive child's faults were
+winked at by her indulgent father, and false worldly
+sentiments inculcated by her frivolous aunt.  The next day,
+little Susan presented herself at Woodcliff, and Aunt
+Matilda, who was really kind-hearted, gave her some very nice
+garments for her mother and brothers; and Madeline, with
+the impulsiveness of her nature, was loading gifts upon her
+that were wholly unsuitable, until aunty came in to check
+the profuseness of the generous child; and Madeline was
+sadly disappointed as she carried back to her wardrobe a
+handsomely flounced pink lawn, and a pretty little jaunty
+hat trimmed with flowers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm sure they would have been very nice for Sundays,"
+soliloquized the child; "at any rate, I wanted her to have
+them.  Aunt Matilda is so stingy and so cross&mdash;dear me!
+I wish I was a young lady, just to do as I please.  I'll
+have what I want, and give what I choose, then, that I will."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Many a nice garment found its way to Mrs. Grant, for
+Madeline regarded little Susan as her own particular
+protégé after the adventure by the sea-shore, and the child
+herself was never tired of telling her mother about the good
+boy that took her part so warmly, and the beautiful child
+that wiped his face with her fine linen handkerchief; and
+the mother could not help laughing as she mimicked the
+manner in which Harry and Charles sneaked away after
+her indignant rebuke; "and I am sure that they are no
+gentlemen, though they were dressed ever so grand," was
+the conclusion that little Susan always reached at the end
+of her story.
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap02"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER II.
+<br><br>
+A RIDE ON HORSEBACK.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+Woodcliff is truly a pleasant home, where Mr. Hamilton
+has displayed his fine taste, and rendered it one of the
+most attractive residences in the whole neighborhood.  It
+is a very elegant mansion, surrounded on the first floor by
+piazzas, while balconies from the second story command a
+fine view of the adjacent country.  It stands majestically
+on the top of a high cliff, sloping down in grassy terraces to
+an artificial lake, where numerous goldfish enjoy their merry
+gambols, and where Madeline frequently sits dabbling her
+pretty white feet, and throwing crumbs of bread to the pets
+which she has tamed.  At the back of the house may be
+seen a large conservatory, filled with rare and beautiful
+flowers, and at the opposite wing a fine library; both wings
+opening into gardens laid out with the most exquisite taste,
+adorned with every variety of rich and costly shrubbery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And here has passed the childhood of Madeline Hamilton,
+the only and petted child of a father who idolizes her,
+and who will not cross her strong will, or deny any
+indulgence that wealth can purchase.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Having lost her mother in her infancy, her only female
+guide is a maiden aunt, whose weak character is entirely
+unable to control the strong will of her wayward little
+niece.  Indeed, though often much provoked, a few cunning
+compliments, and a shower of warm kisses, could at any
+time disarm Aunt Matilda's anger; so that by flattering her
+aunt, by numerous blandishments, and by sundry coaxing
+ways with her father, Madeline pretty generally ruled the
+household.  Though proud spirited and passionate, she had
+a warm and generous nature&mdash;a creature of storms, and
+tears, and smiles; and parlor and kitchen alike bent to the
+will of the spoiled child, for her witcheries had bound all
+to her little car.  Her favorite amusement was riding about
+the country upon a pony, which her father had purchased
+for her two years before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mounted on Selim, away she would scamper up and
+down the lanes and hills of Woodcliff, sometimes attended
+by a groom; but if she could contrive to elude his
+vigilance, most frequently she took these rides alone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Selim was very gentle, and they were great friends; but
+occasionally he had been known to run away when
+suddenly frightened.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Matilda often remonstrated against these wild rides,
+but all in vain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There she goes like a Mad-cap down the lane!  I tell
+you, brother, that we shall have her brought home some
+day, either crippled or killed."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just as Aunt Matilda concluded her speech to Mr. Hamilton,
+the child turned her beautiful face, beaming with
+mischief, back upon her father, and waving her little whip in
+defiance, she tossed her bright locks to the wind, and
+galloped off.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can't bear to restrain her, sister; nothing has ever
+happened yet, and it seems such a pity to check such a
+spirit as that."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline was in high glee, and Selim was equally frolicsome.
+Taking the path with which they were both familiar,
+she rode gaily along, fearless and joyous, singing some
+merry song.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Passing a corner of the road, she was suddenly attracted
+by the sight of the boy of the sea-shore.  As she passed,
+he took off his cap respectfully to the little girl, and she
+returned the salutation by reining up her horse, and
+inquiring about his injuries.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They are quite well, miss," was the reply; "and mother
+is very thankful to the young lady, who so kindly lent me
+her handkerchief."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just then Maddy perceived Harry and Charles riding
+rapidly up the road, and who started off at a quick pace as
+they passed her.  Charles gave two or three cuts of his
+whip upon Selim's haunches, a liberty which he would not
+bear.  He started in full gallop.  Madeline kept her seat
+bravely, but with a pale cheek and quivering lip; for now
+she was really frightened, and found herself incapable of
+checking his speed.  On he galloped, more and more fiercely,
+for the sight of the flying horses but increased the
+swiftness of his flight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland saw her danger, and every moment expected to
+see her thrown as he perceived her swaying backward and
+forward.  With lightning speed, he had started as soon as
+he saw the mean act of the boys, and by wondrous efforts
+succeeded in reaching the horse.  Exerting all his strength,
+he headed off the animal at the risk of his life, and seizing
+the bridle, held on even while the horse was rearing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hold tight, Miss Madeline," said Roland, with a firm
+voice; "men are coming."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At that moment he was thrown to the ground, but still
+held on to the bridle, though kicked severely by the
+frightened animal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In another instant two men arrived, who succeeded in
+lifting Madeline from Selim's back; and extricating Roland
+from his perilous condition, found that he had severely
+sprained his ankle, and received several bruises.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline was laid fainting upon the ground, and when
+the boys who had caused the accident rode up, their
+blanched countenances indicated the terror which they
+really felt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We did not mean to throw you, coz," said Charles; "all
+we meant was a little sport."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You might have killed your cousin, young gentlemen,"
+answered Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hold your tongue, you low upstart!  What right have
+you here?" was the rude reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It was well that I was near, for Miss Madeline had
+not much to hope for from her manly cousins."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Begone! you ragamuffin!  We want none of your help."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall not go, sir, until I have seen Miss Madeline safe
+in her father's house," was the quick reply; and with a firm
+step, Roland advanced towards the little girl, and after she
+was sufficiently recovered, succeeded, by the help of the
+men, in placing her upon Selim's back, who was now quite
+pacified.  Roland, though suffering from a sprained ankle,
+taking the horse's bridle, led him quietly along.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Seeing Roland master of the field, the two boys sneaked
+away, and Madeline said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm glad that they are gone; a pair of mean cowardly
+fellows!  I can't bear Charley Davenport; but I'm afraid
+that you are hurt, Roland," continued the child, "and I'm
+so sorry that those rude boys spoke so insultingly.  But
+don't mind them, Roland; I only wish you were my
+cousin, instead of Charles."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't think of me, miss; you were kind to me when I
+was hurt the other day; and I am so glad that I can be of
+any service to you.  As to the boys, I pity them; they have
+never been taught what is true politeness."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is Woodcliff, Roland," said Madeline, as she
+turned into the avenue which led to the house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Hamilton and Aunt Matilda ran hastily down to
+meet her; and soon they perceived her horse led slowly
+along.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is the matter, my darling?" inquired the father,
+lifting her from the horse, and alarmed at her pallid
+countenance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not much, now, papa; but if it had not been for the
+bravery of this good boy, I might have been killed," and
+as soon as she was seated, she related the story of her
+rescue to her grateful father.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, my brave boy," said Mr. Hamilton, as he
+wrung Roland's hand.  "You have done me a favor which
+I shall never forget."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As Roland stood uncovered in Mr. Hamilton's presence,
+he thought that he had never seen a more noble boy,
+though clad in the garb of poverty.  Taking out his pocketbook,
+he offered him a five dollar note, a great treasure for
+Roland Bruce.  Drawing himself proudly up, while the
+color mounted to his very temples, he said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Excuse me, sir; I would not lose the pleasure of helping
+Miss Madeline, and poor as I am, I cannot receive
+anything for an act so simple."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If I can serve you in any way, my boy, come to me
+freely; I should be most happy to aid you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just then the two cousins rode slowly up the avenue,
+and felt justly humbled at the sharp reproofs administered
+in the presence of Roland Bruce.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Boys, I am heartily ashamed of you.  When you practise
+jokes of this kind, let it be on some one beside a little
+girl; I am sorry that your cousin had to find a protector in
+a stranger."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Papa, look at Roland, how pale he is!" exclaimed
+Madeline, just as he sank down exhausted on the step of
+the piazza.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are hurt, my boy," said Mr. Hamilton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland tried to smile, but the pain of his ankle was so
+severe, that he could no longer conceal his sufferings.  "I
+think that I have sprained my ankle," was the answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Hamilton instantly took off the shoe, and was
+shocked to see how much it was swollen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You must come in, my boy, and have remedies applied
+at once."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After bathing and bandaging the limb, much to the
+mortification of the two boys, Roland was sent home in the
+buggy, under the care of the coachman.  Charles and
+Harry shrank away into the house, and Madeline cried
+because her friend was hurt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Won't you send over to-morrow, papa, to see how he
+is?  He is such a good, brave boy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, my child, all shall be done that is right; but you
+must not fret so much about a stranger."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With the careful nursing of a good mother, and the kind
+attentions of Mr. Hamilton, Roland soon recovered, and
+Madeline frequently stopped at the cottage door to inquire
+for her young protector.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Hamilton was sadly puzzled to know what to do
+with his wild little daughter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was now ten years old, with bright talents, but a
+wholly undisciplined mind; for nothing of importance had
+yet been done in the great task of education, unless we
+except a physical form of perfectly healthy development.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She had free access to her father's library, and devoured
+indiscriminately whatever came in her way&mdash;history, poetry,
+romance&mdash;and it was really amusing to see with what
+facility she personified her favorite characters; and how
+much she remembered of the wild legends of feudal days,
+and of the lords and ladies that graced the Courts of Queen
+Elizabeth and Mary Stuart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sir William Wallace and Robert Bruce, were, however,
+her great heroes, and were ever uppermost in her mind
+whenever she heard of a great man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Fairy tales were her delight; and Madeline was never
+better pleased than when she could gather an audience of
+youthful listeners, to whom she could relate the wonderful
+doings of these little people.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Acting out in her fanciful costumes either the grandeur
+of Queen Elizabeth, the grace of Mary Stuart, or the
+changing fortunes of Cinderella, Madeline amused her
+father and Aunt Matilda by her witcheries part of the day,
+spending the remainder of her time in her wild frolics on
+the back of Selim, scouring the woods, or frequently
+attended by Hector, rambling on the sea-shore.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Two or more hair-breadth escapes by land and water, at
+last decided Mr. Hamilton that he must get a governess
+for his mad-cap daughter, and much to her disgust, she was
+told that papa had gone to Boston to bring back a lady, to
+take charge of her education.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, I suppose, aunty, that I am to be tied down to
+old musty books, slate, pencil and pen, and everlasting
+thrumming on the old piano&mdash;good-bye to the wild woods,
+and the sea-shore.  I know I shall get sick; I always get
+sick over school-books; and then papa will have to send.
+Miss Prosy away; we'll see, that we will," tapping her
+little foot impatiently on the velvet carpet, and darting a
+quick mischievous glance at her aunt, she continued, "I'll
+make this house too warm for Miss Prosy.  I tell you,
+aunty, she'll be glad to get rid of Madeline Hamilton before
+long," and tossing aside her ringlets, she dashed out
+of the room, humming a lively tune.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline sought her maid, Nanny, into whose ears she
+poured all her grievances.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nanny, is it not too bad?  There's papa gone off to
+Boston, to bring back some horrid old teacher to spoil all
+my fun.  I expect she is tall and thin, and yellow and
+cross.  I know I shan't like her; I never did like a teacher
+yet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm real sorry, Miss Maddy, for I think you know more
+now than half of the little girls.  You can say Cinderella,
+and can act Queen Elizabeth, and Queen Mary, and can
+make verses, and ever so much."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline was a shrewd child, and knew very well that
+such foolish things were of no manner of use to any little
+girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She could not help smiling at Nanny's simplicity, and
+said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, you see, Nanny, these things only amuse me.
+I know that there is a great deal more to learn, but I don't
+want to take the trouble."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't be afraid, miss; your papa won't make you learn
+if you don't want to; and if you don't like the teacher, I
+can help you to get her away."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is a dear good Nanny; I'll give you a new dress,
+and pretty collar, if you'll only be my friend."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know what to do, miss; if I tell your papa that you
+don't sleep well, and that you are getting pale, he'll think
+that you are going to be sick, and will send her away, I
+know."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, Nanny, I am not sick now.  I feel as merry as a
+lark.  Do you want to hear my little song, Nanny?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Dancing about the room, in a sweet clear voice, she
+commenced singing,
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  Away, away to the woods for me,<br>
+  Away, away to the dear old sea;<br>
+  Away up the hills, and down the lanes,<br>
+  As I give to Selim the lightest reins.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  Then away we scamper in many a race,<br>
+  Giving old Hector a good wild chase;<br>
+  Books and slates are very good things,<br>
+  But Mad-cap would rather dance and sing.<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Away, away to the woods for me,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Away, away to the dear old sea.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>
+"Did you really make up that song, Miss Maddy?"
+asked the wondering Nanny.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline burst out laughing as she replied, "Why, yes,
+Nanny, I often make up such little pieces."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, how do you do it, Miss Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I don't know, Nanny; the words just come to me
+themselves."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why sure! what a wonderful child!  What's the use
+of getting a teacher; I guess Miss Prosser can't make
+verses."
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap03"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER III.
+<br><br>
+MADDY'S TRIUMPH.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+Late on Saturday evening, Mr. Hamilton arrived with
+a pale sad looking lady, whom he introduced as Miss
+Prosser.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Matilda received her as a lady, but wilful little
+Madeline, with a cunning glance of her eye, extended her
+hand reluctantly, and saluted her as Miss Prosy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Prosser, my dear," corrected the father.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, yes, I forgot&mdash;Miss Prosser; do you give hard
+lessons, Miss Prosy?" continued the child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do not think that you will have any cause to
+complain, if you will only be diligent and obedient."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Those are two words which I have never been taught
+yet, Miss Prosy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Prosser, my dear, Prosser," interrupted the father.
+"I hope that you will find Madeline all that you desire
+after awhile.  She is a wild little girl now; lessons will
+be hard at first, and you must not keep her too close."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Monday morning arrived, and Madeline was summoned
+to the library, where her studies were to be pursued.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Miss Prosser was one of the rigid school of disciplinarians;
+and Madeline, with the quick instinct of a bright
+child, soon felt that there would never be any bond of
+union between herself and the sad lady, who appointed her
+daily tasks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The first hour passed tolerably, the second wearily, but the
+third, which introduced her wild imaginative mind to the
+severe discipline of arithmetic, was insufferable; and
+throwing down her book impatiently, she said, "I'm tired of this
+stuff; I can't do any more this day; good-bye, Miss Prosy,"
+and away started the wild child, ere her governess could
+express her surprise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Running to her father, who was just going out to ride,
+she begged so bewitchingly to accompany him, that papa
+could not refuse her; and Miss Prosser had the mortification
+of seeing her out of the library window, galloping
+down the avenue on Selim, with her flat set jauntily upon
+her bright young head, and she, poor lady, mourning over
+her wilful scholar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Really, my dear, you must not do this again; Miss
+Prosser will be offended."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was so tired, dear papa; I felt as if I would smother
+in that warm room; and when she placed the multiplication
+table before me, I knew it was of no use to try; I
+shall never learn the horrid old thing, I know."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Day after day, Madeline wearied the patience of her
+teacher.  Sometimes, when it was her whim, she would
+apply herself most earnestly to some favorite exercise, and
+surprise her at the quickness with which she mastered even
+difficult lessons; but as to regular, systematic study, it was
+out of the question.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sometimes she would teaze Miss Prosser with endless
+questions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Miss Prosy, why did you not get married? you are
+very good-looking," inquired the teazing child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Miss Madeline, study that lesson, and don't spend your
+time in asking such foolish questions."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm not in the humor, Miss Prosy; I feel lazy; I'd
+much rather talk; and papa says he don't like me forced
+to study."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't you want to be an intelligent woman, Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I don't know, indeed; I am afraid I should be an old
+maid, if I think too much of learning.  I can gain a great
+deal by reading, and that is what I like."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aren't you going to study this morning?" continued
+Miss Prosser.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I don't think I shall; I don't feel very well; and if you
+have no objection, I'll lie down on the sofa, and read the
+Lady of the Lake."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Miss Prosser knew that it was in vain to enforce obedience;
+for in all cases, appeals to Mr. Hamilton ended in
+Madeline's victory, and generally she had to wait upon the
+young lady's whims.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, Miss Prosser, I do believe that you are growing
+gray; and you always look as if you were going to cry."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just then, perceiving that two large tears dropped upon
+the book which she was using, Madeline, with all the
+impulsive warmth of her nature, threw her arms around Miss
+Prosser, saying,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I did not mean to hurt your feelings; I do so like a
+little bit of fun."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You should learn, my child, to restrain your impetuous
+nature, for thoughtless words may wound as deeply as
+intended ones.  I have known much of sorrow, Madeline.
+Once I was the centre of a happy home, where I was
+cherished as tenderly as you are now; but now I am all alone
+in the world&mdash;an orphan, and penniless."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do forgive me, dear Miss Prosser," replied the child;
+"I will never do so again," and she hid her face in her
+hands, bowed her head and wept.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do forgive you, Madeline, heartily: but do, my dear
+child, try to think always of the feelings of others."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline was subdued all that day.  At the table, she
+was careful to see that Miss Prosser had the nicest little
+delicacies, and when she went to her room at night, the
+warm-hearted child followed to see that she was
+comfortable, and kissing her, bade her good night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Matters progressed very well for a few days.  Madeline
+seemed as if she really meant to be a good child, and under
+the new impulse, the governess was hopeful.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The mornings spent in the library were all that she
+could desire.  It was so pleasant to come into contact with
+such a fresh, original mind, as that of her bright little pupil;
+and then Madeline really appeared to be learning the art
+of self-control.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There comes Hector!" she exclaimed one morning, as
+the sharp bark of her dog was heard at the door.  Formerly,
+she would have thrown down her books, and rushed out to
+meet her favorite.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+'Tis true that she did for one moment arise from her
+seat, but quickly returning, she said, "There, Hector, go
+away this time, that's a good dog;" and though he
+continued whining and scratching at the door, she remained
+resolute, and refused him admittance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was quite a triumph for Madeline, and Miss Prosser
+repaid her with a smile of encouragement, which impelled
+Madeline, with a heightened color, to renewed efforts of
+diligent study.  Occasionally, there would be outbreaks of
+the old spirt of mischief, but generally, the progress was
+onward.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One morning, Madeline, full of excitement, met her
+teacher.  "Only think Miss Prosser, my cousin is coming;
+Lavinia Raymond.  Oh! what a nice time we shall have;
+she's the girl for fun; when she's here, we are out every
+day somewhere.  I know papa will give me a holiday; I
+mean to coax hard, and he never refuses his little Mad-cap."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But, my dear child, you certainly don't expect to give
+up your studies while Lavinia is here."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, indeed; I think I have learned enough now for
+the last month to last me all the time that she stays with
+us."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mad-cap's spirits were fully aroused; it was almost
+impossible to bring her into any kind of composure, and
+Miss Prosser was compelled to shorten the exercises for
+that day at least.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lavinia was expected late in the afternoon.  As soon as
+dinner was over, Madeline commenced her visits to the window,
+the door, and even to the gate, which led to the avenue,
+backward and forward, until she was nearly tired out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Papa, I don't believe that she is coming at all," at
+length uttered the impatient child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you know, my dear, that it is only six o'clock,"
+replied Mr. Hamilton, smiling, and taking out his watch;
+"they cannot possibly reach here before seven, so you had
+better run in, and amuse yourself at your piano."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Away ran Maddy&mdash;opening her instrument, she rattled
+away for about ten minutes; then calling Hector, and
+throwing on her flat, down the avenue, through the gate,
+and out into the open road she started at full speed.  At
+length, after sundry races of the same description, she
+spied a distant carriage, but was bitterly disappointed
+when she found that it only contained a party of strangers.
+Seven o'clock came, but no cousin.  Discouraged, she
+seated herself on the piazza, and when at length she found
+that the carriage had entered the avenue, standing tip-toe
+on the lower step, she awaited, with a glowing cheek, the
+letting down of the carriage step.  In another minute, Lavinia
+was in her cousin's arms, and Mrs. Raymond warmly
+welcomed by her brother-in-law and Aunt Matilda.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was a woman of the world, devoted to fashion, and
+training her daughter in all its follies.  Lavinia was two
+years older than Madeline, but completely a spoiled child
+of folly&mdash;the only bond of sympathy between her and
+Madeline, was their mutual love of mischief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Take me to my room, Maddy, I want to make my
+toilet," was the first request of Lavinia; and accompanied
+by her maid, Madeline led her to her chamber.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Our natural little girl was greatly amused by the pains
+bestowed upon a child's toilet; for the utmost time that
+Madeline could spare, was to bathe thoroughly, twist her
+ringlets hastily around her fingers, put on her simple dress,
+and without another thought, her toilet was completed.
+But Lavinia, was washed and powdered, combed and
+pomatummed, her head dressed like a woman's, and after
+the indulgence of an hour's whims, Susette pronounced
+her "comme il faut."  What a contrast between the
+affectation of Lavina Raymond, and the natural sportive
+grace of Madeline Hamilton!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the table, Mrs. Raymond answered the polite bow
+of Miss Prosser with a supercilious stare, and Lavinia,
+imitating her mother's rudeness, scarcely noticed her
+presence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After a few days of unrestrained license, Miss Prosser
+ventured to remonstrate with Mr. Hamilton, but he could
+not think of interfering with Mad-cap's pleasures; and all
+that he would consent to was, that Lavinia and Madeline
+should spend two hours daily at their studies, unless
+otherwise engaged.  Two or three mornings of every
+week, they were off on some excursion of pleasure; the
+remainder of the time was broken in upon by every trivial
+excuse that could be invented.  Indeed, since Lavinia's
+arrival, Miss Prosser's influence was at an end; lessons
+were to be excused, musical practice virtually had closed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lavinia would not study, and even when Madeline was
+so disposed, she would not allow her to do anything but
+play.  Weary were the hours of the sad governess, and once
+more the prospect of another change began to loom up
+gloomily in the distant horizon.  She had hoped that she
+was at least for years at rest; but the orders to march rang
+daily in her ears.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After many trials and disappointments, Miss Prosser,
+utterly discouraged, was contemplating the perplexity of her
+situation.  Seated one morning in the library, waiting for
+her wayward pupils, she was suddenly surprised by the
+entrance of Mr. Hamilton.  Her sad weary expression of
+countenance touched him for a moment, and he said, "I am
+sorry, Miss Prosser, that my little girl is so wilful, but I
+have not the heart to deny her anything, and when Lavinia
+has gone, we shall return to the old order of things."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I fear, by that time, my dear sir, that I shall find it
+impossible to bring Madeline into any kind of subjection; I
+am greatly perplexed, for I cannot bear to receive a salary
+for doing nothing."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You need not mind, Miss Prosser, if I do not complain."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do object, sir, to receive a salary without giving the
+equivalent, and seriously conclude that I cannot do so much
+longer."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do have a little patience, Miss Prosser; Lavinia will
+leave in about a month, and then we shall be regular once
+more."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Poor Miss Prosser was still severely tried; practical jokes
+were frequently played upon her, and although she was
+certain that Madeline had not taken an active part in them,
+still it pained her to see that even she could be amused at
+her expense.  Matters grew worse instead of better; Madeline
+was impatient, and Lavinia indifferent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The month rolled on; Lavinia and her mother took their
+departure; and Miss Prosser endeavored once more to
+regain her influence over her pupil.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come, Madeline, aren't you tired of play?" asked the
+governess.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, indeed; I hate books and study, and long, sad faces;
+Lavinia don't go to school but half the year, and I am going
+to coax papa to let me stop until next winter."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Just come, now, Madeline, and let us read a little
+together; you have not said one lesson for three weeks."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, I suppose I must, just to please you, Miss Prosser;
+but let it be a short one."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy soon commenced yawning, and as soon as the lesson
+was over, brought out her favorite volume of Shakspeare,
+and really did manage to spend another hour in
+searching for beauties in her pet author; but one hour was
+sufficient, and, begging to be excused, she was gone.  And
+thus the patience of the poor lady was taxed daily, her
+spirits sank, and too conscientious to hold such a position,
+she fully made up her mind to resign.  Accordingly, on
+the next day, Madeline's father was summoned to the
+library.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have sent for you, Mr. Hamilton, to resign my charge;
+I have tried it for six months, but in vain.  Your child has
+the brightest talents, but the system of indulgence pursued
+towards her, precludes entirely the possibility of
+improvement.  I must have my pupils advance, or I cannot be
+happy.  I have nothing else to complain of; my quarter
+will expire next week, and then I feel that I ought to leave."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am sorry, Miss Prosser; but I suppose that it cannot
+be helped."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The lady smiled at this acknowledgment of weakness;
+but her resolution was taken.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sad, pale teacher took her leave on the following
+Saturday, and when Madeline found that she was really
+going, with the perverseness of such wayward natures, she
+was actually sorry; she had learned to respect her
+governess, and really liked her better than any who had ever
+taught her before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-bye, Miss Prosser; I am sorry that I have been
+so naughty, but I can't help it.  Papa says so; and I know
+it is so.  Here's a breastpin, with some of Mad-cap's hair
+in it; will you show that you forgive me by wearing
+it?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, my dear child; I shall always remember
+your warm little heart; and if ever you change your ways,
+and desire to hear from your friend, write to Messrs. Wood
+&amp; Co., Boston.  I think that you will, Madeline; but some
+one else must be the teacher.  I have tried my utmost, and
+failed."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Strange to say, Madeline shed some natural tears as
+she saw the carriage vanish with her governess; but in a
+few days, the feeling of perfect liberty in which she revelled,
+obliterated all the regret, and Hector and Selim were
+again her constant companions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dear me, brother," said Aunt Matilda, "what shall
+we do with the child; she is now nearly eleven, and
+scarcely any education."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Time enough yet, Matilda; she'll be all right; don't be
+afraid of Mad-cap, she is bright as a diamond."
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap04"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER IV.
+<br><br>
+TOO PROUD TO BEND.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+"I wish I had something to do; I am tired of playing,
+tired of riding, tired of everything&mdash;I have nobody to
+speak to but papa, and Aunt Matilda, and Selim, and my
+other pets."  Thus soliloquized Madeline, as, with a weary
+yawn, she threw herself upon the sofa in the library.  "I
+get so tired of Aunt Matilda, she never talks any sense:
+nothing but head-dresses, and her complexion, her white
+hands, and the days when she was young.  Miss Prosser
+did talk sense, and I wish she were back again; I always
+liked her when she made me do what she commanded.
+I did not let her know it, though; I am too proud for
+that."  And Madeline tapped her little foot upon the carpet, her
+usual way of expressing a chafed, impatient spirit.  "I
+think I heard the bell ring," and running to the window,
+she peeped through the thin curtains, to see who was
+there.  "Oh! dear, if there isn't Roland Bruce&mdash;what's
+that he has got in his basket?"  Just then a servant
+entered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Miss Madeline, a poor boy wants to see you at the door."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O, yes, I know; I am so glad to see him," and away
+she flew.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland took off his cap as soon as he saw the little
+girl, and with a modest air, he said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I thought, Miss Madeline, that you would like these
+pretty doves," uncovering his basket.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline peeped in, and there lay the sweetest little
+ring-doves, with their soft eyes looking up in her face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, Roland, what a good boy you are! they are so
+pretty; it's just what I have wanted so long."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here's some chickweed, too, Miss Madeline, for your
+canary; we have so much in our garden; and I thought
+you would like some lilies of the valley."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O, thank you, Roland, how good you are to remember
+me!  Now let us run out into the garden, and you shall
+plant the lilies."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Leaving her doves in the care of Nanny, her own maid,
+away scampered the child, hair flying, and eyes beaming
+with innocent delight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here, Roland, this is my garden," said the child,
+pointing to a corner of the grounds which bore many
+marks of careless culture.  "Here I come to dig and weed,
+but I get tired of it; I get tired of everything, Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If you'll let me, I'll come, Miss, and look after your
+flowers; I know something about them, for we raise them
+and sell them to our neighbors.  I have not forgotten your
+kindness, Miss Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I wish you were my brother, or my cousin, Roland,
+what nice times we should have!  I have a boat, a pony,
+and a dog, and so many things; but for all that, I get so
+tired."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have you any books, Miss Madeline?" continued the boy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Books! why I have more than I can count&mdash;all kinds
+of books."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you never study, Miss Madeline?" inquired Roland,
+with a look of surprise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Study! no, indeed, I hate study.  I like to read stories,
+and poetry, and fairy tales, and accounts of great men&mdash;did
+you ever hear of Robert Bruce? he's my hero;
+wasn't it nice when the spider taught him such a lesson?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I've read about him, Miss Madeline, for my mother
+has told me so much about Scotland&mdash;both my parents
+were Scotch."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Were they, Roland? may be you're some relation to
+Robert Bruce; why I do believe you are."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland smiled at her simplicity, and stooping down,
+planted his modest flowers in a shady corner.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Wouldn't you like to go to our school, Miss Madeline?
+Mr. Norton is such a good teacher."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where is your school, Roland?" asked the child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is about a mile from here, in Maple Lane, and such
+a pleasant walk in fine weather."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is Mr. Norton cross, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, indeed; he's the best friend that I ever had."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have they more teachers than one?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes&mdash;Mr. Norton the principal, Miss Adams the first
+assistant, and Miss Corning second."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are there many scholars, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think we have sixty, Miss Madeline; Mr. Norton
+makes everything so pleasant, and learning so easy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'll coax papa to let me come; you'll help me to learn,
+won't you, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline was sorry when Roland turned to go home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-bye," said the child, "you'll see me at your
+school; if I take it into my head, I can go;" and running
+back to the house, once more she visited her little pets,
+and named them Patty and Jim.  Impatiently she awaited
+papa's arrival from his ride.  As soon as he was seated,
+jumping on his lap, she threw her arms around his neck,
+and looking up in his face with her own bewitching way,
+she said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, papa, I want you to promise me something."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is it, Maddy?  It is not much that I can refuse you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, it's something good, papa; you'll like it, I know.
+I want you to let me go to the school in Maple Lane.
+Mary James, Minnie Scott, Lizzie Belton, and Ellen
+Taylor all go; and I think it will be much better than
+school all alone, and no one to speak to but the teacher."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I must make some inquiries first, Mad-cap," answered
+her father.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Won't you go to-morrow, papa?  I want to go right
+off, and I promise you that I'll study hard; just let me go,
+that's a dear papa."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, I'll see about it to-morrow, Madeline, and if all
+is right, you shall go; I will do anything to make you
+learn."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next morning Mr. Hamilton made the necessary calls
+upon the parents of the children named by Madeline, saw
+the principal, entered her name, and all being satisfactory,
+his consent was fully given.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, Maddy, all is settled; you will go on Monday to
+Maple Lane.  I hope that you will be a good little girl,
+and not get tired of it in a week or two."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hope, my dear niece," said Aunt Matilda, "that you
+will show some proper pride, and not make an acquaintance
+of everybody that you meet.  You must remember that
+there are many very common people who go to school
+there; no associates for Madeline Hamilton, the heiress of
+Woodcliff."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline put on her mischievous air as she replied, "I'm
+afraid I shall often forget that I must act the little
+princess; for when I meet a right funny little girl, I don't
+often stop to ask who she is, but I just play with those I
+like."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Monday morning came round; papa's summer carriage
+was brought up, and Maddy, with a glowing cheek and
+dancing step, seated herself by her father's side.  A neat
+little satchel, and a basket with a nice lunch pleased our
+little girl mightily, for she had never seemed like a scholar
+before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy was now about eleven years old&mdash;a bright
+animated being; and when Mr. Hamilton took her by the
+hand, and led her up to the desk of the principal, all eyes
+were turned towards the shy little creature, who was really
+abashed by the gaze of so many young faces, all looking
+with curious eyes upon the young stranger.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have brought you my little girl, Mr. Norton; she is
+my only child, and quite a darling at home.  She has been
+so much petted, that I fear you will find her sadly deficient."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We have excellent teachers, Mr. Hamilton, but strict
+discipline; I fear that you may think it too much so for
+your little daughter."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We can try it, Mr. Norton, and if too strict, there is an
+easy remedy.  May I ask in what class she will be placed?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I presume in Miss Corning's; she has the youngest
+children."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By this time, Madeline had gained courage enough to
+look around her, and was delighted to greet Roland Bruce
+on the opposite side of the room.  Finally, papa took leave;
+Madeline underwent examination, and was placed under
+Miss Corning's care.  Her chief study for the first day was
+faces and characters, for she was a quick little one at the
+latter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy was much amused at the pretensions of some of
+the purse-proud in the neighborhood, and inwardly resolved
+that none of these would-be-ladies should be among her
+friends.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+During the intermission, Lizzie Belton, a young miss of
+fourteen, anxious to cultivate the acquaintance of a Hamilton,
+stepped forward with rather a patronizing air, to take
+Madeline out to the play-ground; but the proud little girl
+declined the honor, and looked eagerly around for Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm so glad that you have come, Roland," said the child.
+"I don't know any of these girls except by name, and I
+don't care for them.  They all seem to think themselves so
+grand, because they are dressed fine.  I don't care for
+clothes that are too good for a brisk race."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland had seen that the child was even rude to some
+of the girls, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Miss Madeline, don't you think it would be better to
+be a little sociable with them?  You will have enemies
+among them if you do not."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If I can find one real little girl, who likes me for myself
+alone, that is the playmate for me.  Bring your sister,
+Roland; I'd rather play with Effie, than any of the rest of
+them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She is not here to-day, Miss Madeline!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What do you think of Miss Corning, Roland?  I don't
+think I shall like her very much; she has such a stern,
+cross way of speaking, She need not order me about; I
+can be led, but I can't be driven!" and the proud spirit
+flashed in Madeline's expressive eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Just obey the rules, and study well, Miss Madeline,
+and you'll have no trouble with Miss Corning; but if you
+don't, you'll have a hard time.  Every one has to mind
+her, and you must not try to have your own way here."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Who is that queer-looking boy sitting under the tree,
+Roland?" asked the child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland smiled as he said, "Poor fellow! he is not very
+smart; his name is Tony Willikins; he is an only son, and
+his father is a very rich man, and gives him everything he
+wants."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just then Tony came near where Madeline was seated,
+and being an admirer of pretty little girls, he stopped
+before her, and making an attempt to bow by pulling his cap
+suddenly from his head, and clapping it under his arm, he
+said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How do you do, Miss?  Please tell me your name."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline burst out laughing at the grotesque figure that
+stood before her, twisting his watch-chain, and simpering
+in such an unmeaning manner.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My name is Mad-cap Hamilton," answered the child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's a queer name!  I don't like it much, Miss.  My
+name is Anthony Willikins; my pop lives in a great big
+house; we have six horses and two carriages, and three
+dogs, and a big garden, and ever so many books, but I can't
+read any of 'em yet; and I've got a boat all to myself, and
+one carriage and two horses.  Wouldn't you like to take a
+ride with me, some day?  I'd like to take you; pop would
+let me, I know; won't you ask your pop to let you go?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All this time Madeline was convulsed with laughter, and
+could scarcely answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I don't think papa would let me go, Tony; he does not
+like me to go with strangers."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just then the bell rang, and after a short afternoon
+session, the school was dismissed, and Madeline went home
+with her tasks for the next day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While the novelty lasted, duties progressed very well;
+but the old habits of indolence returned, and then came the
+warfare between Madeline, the self-willed, and Miss
+Corning, the determined.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline, how is it that you now come daily unprepared
+with your lessons?" inquired the lady.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I had something else to do," was the quick reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you expect to go home without reciting them?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Certainly, Miss Corning!  I cannot learn them all in
+school."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We will see, Madeline! for you can't leave the room
+at recess, or go home until they are learned perfectly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline threw her books aside, and sat with burning
+cheek and flashing eye, while the tapping of her little foot
+betrayed the tempest within.  Miss Corning said no more
+at that time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland saw the storm that was brewing, and seating
+himself near his little friend, he whispered:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do not act so, Miss Madeline; it is very wrong.  God
+sees you, and you are sinning against him, by not obeying
+those who have the rule over you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline looked up surprised at Roland, wondering how
+a poor boy could dare so boldly reprove her.  But he was
+not at all abashed; he knew that he was right, and
+Madeline wrong, and he returned the look of indignant scorn
+with one of pity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How dare you pity me, Roland Bruce?  Don't you
+know that I am Madeline Hamilton?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, miss, I know all that, and I'm very sorry for it,
+for my Bible says that 'To whom much is given, of him
+much will be required;' Madeline Hamilton, therefore, is
+bound to be a better, wiser, holier child than Bessie Carter,
+because she has more advantages."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Though Mad-cap was so angry, she inwardly respected
+the boy, who though so far beneath her in social rank, had
+the courage to lay her faults plainly before her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She sat however, still sullen and silent, and Roland said
+no more; recess had passed, and the school duties were
+resumed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Miss Corning glanced occasionally towards her refractory
+pupil, not at all disposed to yield one inch.  Madeline's
+reflections were of the most mortifying character.  She
+liked and respected Roland Bruce, and now she feared that
+she had lost his friendship by her bad conduct; then the
+inward conviction that she was wrong, and must at last
+own it, was deeply humbling to her pride.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The afternoon passed by, school was dismissed, and
+Roland still lingered.  Walking directly up to Madeline,
+he said in a manly tone:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Miss Madeline, you are all wrong; just say so; give
+up this rebellion, and recite your lessons.  I can't go home
+and leave you here; I would not leave Effie, and I cannot
+leave you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline was melting; for one moment she hesitated,
+and then turning with swimming eyes, extended her little
+hand to Roland, as she said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are a true friend; you have dared to tell a spoiled
+child how bad she is, and I honor you for it.  I will study
+all my lessons, if you will only hear me say them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Miss Corning nodded assent, and Madeline set to work
+with a good will to accomplish her task.  Soon she mastered it,
+and it was a curious sight to behold the flattered
+and petted child subdued and penitent, looking in Roland's
+face so timidly, for approval and encouragement.  Such is
+the force of a strong character, even in a boy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Forgive me, Miss Corning," said the humbled little
+girl, "you don't know how I have been spoiled; but I will
+try to be better in future."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will always find me a friend, Madeline, when you
+do right, but a severe judge when you persist in wrong,"
+was the immediate response.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-bye, Roland," said the child, as she left the
+school-room; "don't think me so dreadfully bad.  I am so
+sorry," and she wept bitterly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-bye, Miss Madeline, I am so glad that you confessed
+that you were wrong; it has raised you so much in
+my regard; try to do right, and God will help you, Miss
+Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy had learned two valuable lessons on that day:
+one, that there were two in the world stronger than she,
+to whom she must submit; and the other, that happiness
+follows a conquest over the natural evils of a sinful heart.
+Her path was smooth and pleasant for some time; she
+was studious, and improved rapidly.  Roland was her fast
+friend; aiding her in every difficult lesson, and keeping a
+constant watch over the outbreaks of her passionate
+nature.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Miss Adams was one of Roland's teachers, and had a
+brother in school about his age.  George Adams was a
+bright boy, but could not compete with Roland Bruce; and
+feelings of jealousy, both on the sister and brother's side,
+were often manifested.  A written examination was to take
+place, which was to decide the question of promotion.
+George Adams and Roland were in the same class, and had
+an equal number of questions to answer in grammar,
+geography, and algebra.  Their desks were side by side.
+Roland had carefully written out all his answers; and, as
+he folded up his manuscripts, he said, with a bright look:
+"There, I have not one blank, nor one blot," and, closing
+his desk, he prepared to go home.  George Adams remained
+behind, and Madeline, having something to do, tarried also.
+They left the school-room together, and the child, with her
+accustomed shrewdness, observed that George avoided her
+eye, and passed out without speaking.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next morning was examination-day&mdash;when Roland's turn
+came, his manuscripts were nowhere to be found.  Diligent
+search was made, but in vain.  Miss Adams arose and said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is very strange, Roland; no one would take them
+from your desk; it looks very much like deception."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland's eye flashed, as he replied:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I wrote them all out, and placed them in my desk,
+yesterday afternoon."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In an instant, Madeline Hamilton was on her feet; regardless
+of the presence of Mr. Norton, the assistants, and some
+of the directors, she exclaimed, as she pointed her finger
+towards the guilty boy:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I saw him open Roland's desk&mdash;Roland Bruce is not a
+deceiver; there is the deceiver!  I know that he was always
+jealous of him.  I watched him as he passed along the road;
+he scattered pieces of paper, I picked them up, there they
+are," and she handed them to Mr. Norton.  Madeline's cheek
+and eye were burning; but fearless, in the defence of her
+friend, she thought of no one else.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline has always been the champion of Roland
+Bruce," said Miss Adams; "she certainly forgets who he is;
+a son of a poor huckster woman, who takes truck to market."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, I do not forget, Miss Adams, that he is the brightest
+boy in school, has always been a mark to shoot at, and that
+there is not one boy in this school, half as wise and good as
+Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sit down, Madeline," said Mr. Norton; "this matter
+shall be looked into."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The excitement had passed, and the little advocate,
+over-powered, bowed her head upon her desk, and wept
+convulsively.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Norton examined the fragments of paper; they were
+all proved to be Roland's.  George Adams was suspended
+for dishonorable practice; and Roland, after another written
+examination, promoted to the highest rank in school.  A
+practical lesson of the truth of that Scripture which declares
+that, "He who humbleth himself shall be exalted, and he
+that exalteth himself, shall be abased."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Really," said Lizzie Belton, "I think that Madeline
+Hamilton makes a fool of herself by the fuss she makes over
+these Bruces; they are well enough in their place, but they
+are no companions for me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lizzie had not forgotten her rebuff, nor, since that time,
+had she made any progress towards intimacy with Madeline
+Hamilton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After school, Roland hurried over to Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am sorry that you have made such an enemy, Miss
+Madeline; Miss Adams will not forgive you very soon.  If
+you had only waited until school was out; it was such a
+public exposure."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I did not think of anything, Roland, but two people; I
+did not even see any body but Roland Bruce, and that mean,
+contemptible George Adams."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Won't you try to subdue some of your quickness, Miss
+Madeline?  I fear that it will bring you into trouble."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is no use, Roland; I have a hot, quick temper,
+and it makes a hasty tongue."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are a warm little friend, and I thank you for your
+kindness to one so humble as I, for I am nothing but the son
+of a very poor woman, who has to struggle hard to find her
+children bread."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Just to think of that Miss Adams, calling your mother,
+your good mother, a low huckster woman."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know that she is not, and I pitied Miss Adams when
+she made such a speech before her scholars; for she hurt
+herself more than the did my dear, precious mother."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't I wish, Roland, that you would live to be a great
+man; wouldn't they all be ashamed of themselves?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't be troubled, Miss Madeline, I am trying all that
+I can to be a learned and good man; and I know that God
+will take care of me if I am His child, and I humbly hope
+that I am."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When you are a great man, you shall come right down
+here among them, and make grand speeches; and won't I
+be glad to see them all bowing to Mr. Roland Bruce, the
+poor widow's son."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland could not help laughing at the little enthusiast,
+for he was but sixteen now, and many a weary year must
+pass away, and many rugged hills be scaled, ere he should
+figure as a great man among the people of Maple Lane
+school.
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap05"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER V.
+<br><br>
+YOUTHFUL VISIONS.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+A nest of rocks standing out upon the ocean, around
+which the waves dash with mournful measure, is one of
+the most inviting retreats for the people around Woodcliff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On this bright summer afternoon, a beautiful dreamer sits
+upon its summit, with eyes turned upward on the rapidly
+changing clouds.  Ever and anon, a smile passes over the
+young face, as some bright thought flits through the
+teeming fancy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Down, Hector, what is the matter?" said the child;
+but the dog continued barking and wagging his tail, as he
+ran down the side of the rock, and bounded along the
+beach.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline soon saw that her young friend Roland was
+coming towards them, with whom Hector was well
+acquainted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come up, Roland, it is perfectly splendid," exclaimed
+the little girl, and soon she was joined by her young
+companion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I want you to come and help me watch the clouds.  I
+don't know if you can see as I do, but there is everything
+that is beautiful this afternoon."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look there, Roland! see that white-winged angel sailing
+along so softly; but it is fading&mdash;it is all gone&mdash;it
+seemed to wave its hand to us, bidding us farewell.  Oh! look
+there at that group of clouds; there are soldiers, and
+banners, and spears flashing&mdash;don't you see that flag
+waving so grandly?  Now just see, Roland, the flag has
+turned into a long fish with wings&mdash;now don't laugh at me,
+Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland could not but smile at her wild fancies, and replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I ought not to laugh at you, Miss Madeline, for many
+a beautiful picture have I seen on the clouds, and many an
+odd one in the winter fire."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't call me Miss Madeline, Roland; we go to the
+same school; I am younger than you, and I'm sure that
+you are a great deal wiser and better than I.  It sounds so
+stiff; call me Madeline, or Maddy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm only a poor boy, very far beneath you, Miss Madeline,
+and I don't think I can take the liberty," answered
+Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, I won't answer you, Roland.  If my father is a
+rich man, I'm only a little girl."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look there, Madeline! that is a very black cloud.  I
+think that we shall soon have a storm."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm not afraid of a storm; I rather like to see the
+lightning flash, and to hear the distant thunder; but I don't
+much like the thoughts of being wet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The clouds thickened rapidly; thunder began to rumble
+in the distance, and some large drops fell around them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Had we not better turn our steps homeward?" asked
+Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think not," was the quick reply, "I have a fancy for
+seeing this storm."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is there any shelter, Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, there is an old fisherman's hut among the next
+nest of rocks.  We can go there."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Quickening their pace, Roland took Madeline's hand, and
+hurried her rapidly along, for the wind was now blowing
+at a fearful rate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were soon sheltered in old Peter's cabin, and the
+children stood at the door, watching the storm.  It was a
+grand sight, but not more so than the little enthusiast, who
+stood with parted lips, eyes turned upward, and her long
+ringlets waving wildly in the wind, gazing entranced on
+the war of the elements, and looking the very genius of the
+ocean.  The waves dashed in foaming spray against the
+rocks; the sea gulls in large flocks flew low down,
+skimming the white caps of the crested billows, which chased
+each other out on the stormy ocean, the birds screaming as
+if inspired by the spirit of the storm.  The lightning
+flashed, the thunder roared, and the rain now fell in
+torrents.  Poor Hector was sadly frightened, and cowering at
+Madeline's feet, continued whining so long as the storm
+lasted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It raged furiously for one hour.  When it subsided, the
+sun once more appeared in his setting glory, shining on
+the still falling rain drops, painting a rainbow on the clouds
+which spanned the ocean.  Further up the beach, the town
+of L&mdash;&mdash; lay in the sunlight, and reflected on the
+window-panes, the whole town glittered as though each house was
+decked with diamonds.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline clapped her little hands with delight.  "Was
+there ever anything so beautiful?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look, Maddy!" said Roland, "at those clouds piled up
+so grandly; they look like the snow-clad Alps that hang in
+your father's library."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"See how the sun glistens on the top of them, Roland;
+it looks just as if the light came right down from the palace
+in the skies, and as if the angels stood in crowds on the
+mountain tops, looking down upon us."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We don't know, Maddy, how many of the shining ones
+may be there; for the Bible tells us that they are
+ministering spirits, sent down to minister to God's people."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look, Roland, at that bird; it seems to fly right round
+the top of that mountain-cloud.  See how its white breast
+shines in the sunlight!  Did you ever wish you were a
+bird?  Wouldn't I like to see as much as that bird sees
+now, so far above the earth."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Did you ever see a mountain, Maddy?" inquired Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, I have not; I have often looked at papa's pictures,
+and wished that I could climb up one of the mountains of
+Switzerland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have seen mountains, Maddy, so grand! so dark! so
+rugged!  I suppose that the mountains of Scotland are
+not so beautiful as those of Switzerland; they are so dark
+and gloomy, and those deep ravines which lie among them
+are so terrible.  I have walked there after sunset, and
+heard the thunder echoing from cliff to cliff, while the wild
+birds screamed as they flew to their mountain eyry."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Were you not afraid, Roland, to be there all alone?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was not alone, Maddy, my uncle used to take me,
+for I was a little boy; but I shall never forget the fear
+which I have felt among those heather-clad mountains; I
+used to cling so tightly to his hand, for I was filled with
+solemn awe."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I wonder if I shall ever see a mountain, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I dare say that by-and-bye your father will show you
+all these wonders."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How long since you were in Scotland, Roland?" asked
+Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is now seven years.  My father was a very sad,
+strange man, Maddy, and he took a sudden fancy to come
+over to America; my mother was a minister's daughter,
+her name was Mary Gordon; she lived with my grandfather
+at the manse even after she was married."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is a manse, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A manse is a Scotch name for a parsonage; it was a
+pleasant little home, situated in a hamlet, at the foot of
+the mountains, not far from my grandfather's kirk."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is a kirk, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A kirk is a Scotch name for a church.  There was a
+lake not far from our house, and many a time did Uncle
+Alick take us children out in the boat; sometimes we
+would cross the lake, and pay visits to our neighbors.
+Once he told me that he was going to show me a place
+that I must never forget; he said that we should be gone
+all day; so my mother, Effie, Uncle Alick and I started
+with our little basket of provisions.  We crossed the lake,
+and made our way up the sides of the mountain; at length,
+we commenced descending, and soon found ourselves in a
+thickly shaded glen, covered with a heavy sward of rich
+green grass.  We stopped under a large old tree, and after
+we had been seated awhile in silence, my mother said:
+'Roland, do you see that old ruin behind that clump of
+trees?'  'I see a pile of stones and an old chimney,
+mother,' I replied.  'There lived our ancestor, the old
+pastor of Glencoe.  His name was David Gordon; he lived
+in those dreadful days when men were hunted like wild
+beasts for conscience' sake&mdash;your great ancestor was a holy
+man, and had bound his soul by the solemn "League and
+Covenant," not to submit to the tyranny of the English
+Church.  He was the father of a large family, and was a
+faithful shepherd of the flock of Christ.  Many a time,
+when those bloody troopers were in hot pursuit, did
+this aged man of God, at the head of his little flock of
+parishioners, sally out at night, marching over the wild
+moors and up the steep mountain sides, seeking shelter in
+the caves of these old hills.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Who was king then, mother?' I inquired.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Charles the First; and who, though a good husband
+and father, was a bigoted and tyrannical king.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Did he hurt God's people?' I asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'He let his soldiers persecute and kill them.  Their
+blood cried to Heaven against him, and deeply were they
+avenged.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Then I'll never love the Church of England, mother,'
+and my little heart burned within me.  'But, mother, you
+were going to tell me a story.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Yes, Roland, I want to show you how strong the old
+pastor of Glencoe was when called to suffer for God.  One
+day, his eldest son, Gilbert, had gone away from home on
+an errand that would bring him back late in the evening;
+and David Gordon, his wife, and granddaughter, Lilian,
+were left at home.  Suddenly, they heard the sound of
+horses' hoofs, and they knew that their day had come.  In
+a very few minutes, a company of troopers appeared in the
+green before the manse; dismounting, they fastened their
+horses to the neighboring trees; the captain, entering the
+manse, dragged old David Gordon from his study, and bade
+him prepare for death.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Down on your knees, you old canting hypocrite!' said
+the hardened man; 'you have but a minute to prepare for
+death.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Just let me hae a few minutes for prayer,' said the
+old Christian; and, kneeling down, he raised his eyes to
+Heaven, while his white hair floated in the cool breeze,
+and ought to have softened the hearts of those cruel men.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'In another minute his faithful wife, the companion of
+fifty years, knelt by his side.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'I am wi' ye, David, whatever is yer fate; I will be
+wi' ye; and the blessed Saviour, who strengthened the
+martyr Stephen, will stan' by his weak disciples.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Hold your clatter, you old beldame; see if your God
+will come to save you from the bullets when they are
+sent.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'How lang, O Lord! holy an' true, shall the wicked
+triumph?' breathed out old David.  'Wilt thou leave us
+forever? hae mercy, O Lord! upon our enemies; turn the
+heart o' Charles Stuart to thysel.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Do you dare to speak the name of the king?' shouted
+the trooper, at the same time pointing to the band that
+stood waiting his orders.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Planting themselves opposite to the kneeling pair, they
+commenced loading their carbines; and, just as they
+prepared to fire, a young creature, not more than sixteen,
+rushed from the manse, and throwing herself upon the
+bosom of her grandfather, stretched forth one pleading
+hand, exclaiming,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Oh! spare his grey hairs; he has ne'er harmed ye! he
+has done naething but guid a' the days o' his life, an'
+if ye kill him, his bluid will call frae the ground against
+ye at the judgment-day.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Take her away,' shouted the Captain; 'the old parson
+must die.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'I will na gae!  I will na leave my dear auld grandfather;
+an' ye can na hae the heart to kill us a',' answered
+Lilian, in her innocent trust.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Fire, men!' shouted the Captain, and in another
+minute, the sharp report of a dozen guns, echoing through
+the glen, sending their deadly bullets among the kneeling
+group, released the souls of the aged pastor, his faithful
+wife, and sweet Lilian Gordon, covered with the blood of
+her aged grand-parents.  She lay on the green sward, and
+even those fierce soldiers were touched when they looked
+at the pale face of the beautiful girl, around which hung
+in rich profusion those golden locks, stained with her
+life-blood, as it oozed quietly away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'She might have gone away,' said one of the troopers;
+'we didn't want to kill her or the old woman; it was their
+own fault.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'All this fearful scene had been witnessed by a faithful
+servant, who had hidden herself in a loft, where, trembling
+and overpowered with grief, she had seen and heard all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'When Gilbert Gordon returned in the evening, what
+was his horror to see his father, mother and only daughter
+weltering in their blood on the green sward in front of the
+manse!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'With the assistance of a few mourning parishioners,
+by the light of the pale moon, they dug a hurried grave,
+and after a few words of solemn prayer from the lips of
+Gilbert Gordon, they laid away the precious remains of the
+martyred dead in hope of a joyful resurrection, placing a
+small board to mark the place where they slept; and when
+those troubled days were over, an humble tomb-stone
+marked the very spot where they lay down their lives for
+Jesus.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Go, read it, Roland,' said my mother; 'and never
+forget that the blood of martyrs flows in your veins.
+Always be strong for the right, my son; and remember
+that you are a Gordon as well as a Bruce.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I read the inscription on the simple tomb-stone, partially
+defaced by time; the letters were very faint, but I still
+could read: 'The Rev. David Gordon; Janet, his wife;
+and his granddaughter, Lilian Gordon; martyred on the
+20th day of October, 1643.  They sleep in Jesus.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Maddy, I have never forgotten that sacred spot; and
+so deep was the impression that, boy as I was, I felt as if
+my soul grew larger from that day, and as if I would
+rather suffer anything than dishonor a name so sacred as
+that of Gordon.  I remember every word my mother said.
+I have thought of the story in the dark hours of the night,
+and have prayed that God would give me such a heroic
+soul as David Gordon's."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy listened to the recital, and all the deep feelings
+of her imaginative nature were stirred to their very depths.
+She could never again look upon Roland Gordon Bruce
+with any other feelings than those of deepest veneration;
+for, boy as he was, and poor as he was, was he not a
+descendant of martyrs? and as much of a hero in her
+young fancy, as though he had figured himself upon that
+bloody sward, and as though, instead of occurring in 1643,
+it had been an event of yesterday.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The story had ended&mdash;returning to the rock, they took
+their seat once more upon its summit.  The storm had all
+passed away; the gulls were flying to their nests, their
+white breasts glistening in the bright sunlight that now
+flooded the waters.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Maddy, I do think that I like storms better than calms.
+I like everything that brings the grandeur of God before
+me; there is a voice within, Maddy, that answers to the
+music of a storm."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I never could tell just how it was, Roland, but I often
+think just as you do, only I never could speak it in words."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Maddy, our talk to-day has brought back my home in
+Scotland; and it makes me feel sad to think that I am so
+far away from the land that I love.  You ought to hear
+some of our music, it is so beautiful."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Won't you sing me one of the songs that you like,
+Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will you try to sing one with me, Maddy?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, I would if I only knew one."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will teach you one, Maddy, if you will try-.&mdash;I know
+that you will like it;" and Roland dictated the words of
+the following Scotch song:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "Scots, wha hae wi Wallace bled!<br>
+  Scots, wham Bruce has often led!<br>
+  Welcome to your gory bed,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Or to victorie!<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "Now's the day, and now's the hour:<br>
+  See the front of battle lour:<br>
+  See approach proud Edward's power&mdash;<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Chains and slaverie!<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "Wha will be a traitor knave?<br>
+  Wha can fill a coward's grave?<br>
+  Wha sae base as be a slave?<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Let him turn and flee!" &c.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap06"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER VI.
+<br><br>
+A SCOTCH MATRON.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Bruce had seen many sorrows.  She had married
+Stephen Bruce chiefly to please her father.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Early in life she had been betrothed to Malcolm Graham,
+a young man of excellent character, who dearly loved
+sweet Mary Gordon.  She had another suitor, Stephen
+Bruce, the son of her father's most intimate friend; this
+was the one preferred by her parent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Malcolm went to sea; the vessel foundered, and his
+name was among the missing.  Mary pined away for two
+years in sadness and sorrow; at length, to please her
+father, she accepted the hand of Stephen Bruce, and made
+him a faithful wife.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Roland was about one year old, one stormy
+winter evening, Mary was rocking her child to sleep,
+singing a sweet cradle hymn, when the door of the manse
+opened suddenly, and Malcolm Graham, her early lover,
+stood before her.  A scene of agony passed&mdash;they parted
+in sorrow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stephen Bruce, on discovering that Malcolm was still
+alive, became morose, jealous, and at last unkind.  After
+the birth of Effie, he suddenly embarked for America,
+where he lived with his family for several years.  At
+length, he returned to Scotland on business; the vessel
+in which he sailed for America was wrecked, and nothing
+was ever heard of Stephen Bruce.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In Mrs. Bruce's neighborhood lived a strange woman,
+named Elsie Gibson, a Scotch woman, who had also lived
+several years in America.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was a frequent visitor at the widow's cottage, and
+exhibited a mysterious interest in all their affairs.  Soon
+after the wreck of the vessel in which Stephen had sailed,
+she presented herself at the cottage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I came to ask for the bairns, Mrs. Bruce," said Elsie.
+"We are baith Scotch people, and I kenned aboot the
+Gordons in the auld country.  Dinna think me officious;
+are the bairns weel provided for?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Stephen had a good support, Elsie, but it will be some
+time before I can hear from home; then I shall know what
+is to be done."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Elsie was a strange, solitary woman, associating with
+no one but Mary Bruce.  Sometimes they would miss her
+from the neighborhood for weeks, then suddenly she would
+make her appearance, always exhibiting the same interest
+in the Bruce family.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In about four months after Stephen's disappearance, a
+package, directed to Mrs. Bruce in an unknown hand, was
+left at the cottage door by a little boy, who as quickly
+disappeared.  It was found to contain fifty pounds, saying
+that the same would come quarterly from her husband's
+estate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Bruce was amazed.  How could it have come to
+her?  Why did she not receive letters from Scotland?  It
+was evidently not a foreign letter.  She could not fathom
+the mystery.  On the following day Elsie paid her
+accustomed visit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How fare the bairns, Mrs. Bruce?  Where is Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When he stepped forward, Elsie laid her hand upon his
+head and said, with deep emotion,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God bless you, my bairn, ye're the vera image o' yer
+father."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Did you know my father, Elsie?" asked the boy, surprised.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Elsie seemed to recover herself in a minute, and replied,
+coldly, "I hae seen him, Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This time her visit was a short one, and, as she left the
+house, Mrs. Bruce said to her children, "Elsie is a strange
+woman; I wonder what makes her think so much of us?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next evening she called again.  They were all seated in
+the little porch enjoying the cool evening air.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There, mother!" said Effie, "is the boy that brought
+the package."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What package?" asked Elsie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A strange thing happened day before yesterday, Elsie.
+A little boy called towards evening and left a note, in an
+unknown hand, enclosing a remittance of fifty pounds from
+my husband's estate."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was by this time running after the boy, calling
+to him to stop; but he was too quick, and disappeared in
+the woods close by.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Elsie looked pleased and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I ween that Roland will na catch the lad, he is a swift
+little hare-foot."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, do you know who he is?" asked Mrs. Bruce.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I dinna say sae, Mrs. Bruce."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Elsie arose hastily and took her leave.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For several years the same mysterious notes came
+quarterly, but at last they entirely ceased.  Elsie Gibson
+had been absent for months, and the family were wondering
+what had become of their old friend, when, one evening,
+Roland spied the same tartan plaid which Elsie always
+wore, and which distinguished her from all her neighbors.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mother, I do believe that Elsie Gibson is coming up
+the lane," exclaimed Roland, and in a few minutes she
+opened the door and walked in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Elsie looked sad and careworn.  "I maun sit me doon,
+Mrs. Bruce, for I'm a weary body this cauld night," and she
+took her seat near the fire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where have you been so long, Elsie?" asked Mrs. Bruce.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hae been far awa', tending on a sick friend; but he's
+better now&mdash;that is, better in body, but sore stricken in
+mind."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have had trouble too, Elsie, since we parted.  My
+quarterly allowance has all stopped, and I must look around
+for means of support."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Elsie looked concerned; a deeper shade passed over her
+pale features as she replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Great changes hae come owre me, Mary, that is, Mrs. Bruce.
+I too hae lost the wee bit o' money that I had, and
+I maun gang out to service."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am sorry, Elsie, but I hope you know the blessedness
+of looking up in the midst of all the sorrows of this life;
+if we have a home above, we need not mind the trials of
+the way, they will be very short compared to the rest
+beyond."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sometimes, Mrs. Bruce, I lose sight of the promises,
+and gang doon into the 'Slough of Despair;' then the
+burden is a heavy load to carry.  But there is a storm
+brewing, and I maun hurry awa'."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Bruce helped her on with her tartan, shook her
+hand warmly, and bade her look up in the midst of darkness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Guid-night, Mrs. Bruce; may the guid Lord guide and
+keep us a', and prosper his poor servant in her new home;
+it will na tak meikle to find my claithes, and the rest shall
+go to ane I luve weel; that is blessed wark, Mrs. Bruce, a'
+my puir life is spent for that."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland walked with Elsie to the turn of the lane, and
+as she bade him "guid night," she added, "I shall always
+luve ye weel, Roland, for the sake o' ane that's awa'."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland returned wondering how it was that they seemed
+to constantly connected with Elsie Gibson&mdash;some mysterious
+links which he could not trace, certainly bound them
+together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a short time Elsie obtained a good place, but with the
+condition that once a month she was allowed to be absent
+for one day, returning the next; and thus she had continued
+for several years, until we bring Madeline acquainted
+with the Bruce family.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good morning, Mrs. Bruce; you are always so busy;
+don't you get tired of working all the time?" asked
+Madeline, as she entered the humble cottage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is better, Miss Madeline, to have too much to do,
+than too little.  I am never so happy as when I am fully
+occupied; and then I am working for my children, and that
+is always cheerful work."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline looked around the humble room, and thought
+how neat everything looked.  True, there was a rag-carpet
+on the floor, but the simple furniture was well kept; the
+tins, bright as silver, hung upon the wall, the family work
+was all done, and Mrs. Bruce and Effie were busy with
+their needles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Effie was a mild, gentle girl, with a pale complexion,
+light hair, and very soft blue eyes, resembling her mother,
+only not so lovely as Mrs. Bruce had been in her youthful
+days.  It was her delight to lessen her mother's cares, for
+she had a heavy burden to carry; but the devotion and
+love of her children was a sweet cordial to an aching heart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline sat down on a low chair by the side of Mrs. Bruce,
+and throwing off her flat, opened a little basket
+which she had brought with her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hope you will not be offended, Mrs. Bruce, but I've
+brought you some very nice tea and coffee that papa has
+just received from Boston; there is some white sugar, and
+some rice, too.  I hardly knew how to bring it, for you are
+not like the other people that live in the cottages round
+here; but I hope that you will not be hurt at me; we have
+so much, and I know that you have so little."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Bruce dropped her head lower down to hide the
+tears that would start as she replied, "We Scotch people
+have a great horror, my dear, of receiving anything but
+what we work for; but I'll take the little gift to please you,
+Miss Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am so glad, for I was so afraid that I was not doing
+exactly what would please you, that I really trembled when
+I got to the door.  I don't know how it is, but from the
+first day that I saw Roland on the shore, I knew that he
+was not a common boy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Hanging between the windows was a small portrait of a
+venerable man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Whose likeness is that, Mrs. Bruce?" asked the child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is my father's picture.  He was the minister of
+the parish where we lived.  He was a good man, Miss
+Madeline, but he is now among the spirits of the just made
+perfect."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How is it, Mrs. Bruce, that you and Roland seem to
+think so much of the world to come?  I never used to
+hear anybody talk about it until I met you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, my dear child, what should I do with all my
+cares and sorrows, if I had no hope of a better life than
+this?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I don't want any better world, Mrs. Bruce.  I have
+everything that I wish, and more too.  This world is very
+beautiful to me; I should not like to leave it and go down
+into the dark grave."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is the natural feeling of a young heart, Miss
+Madeline, but the day will come when you cannot live
+without such a hope."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I don't have many cares, Mrs. Bruce," said Maddy,
+with a mischievous twinkle of her eye.  "I am puzzled a
+little about the pattern of my doll's bonnet, but the greatest
+trouble just now is, that papa has brought down a French
+governess to teach me French and music.  That is not very
+pleasant, for it takes so much of my time out of school that
+I get tired to death."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You ought to be very thankful, Miss Madeline, to your
+father for all his kindness and care.  I hope that you will
+improve your time diligently."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You ought just to see Mademoiselle Fouladoux; she is
+such a queer little person.  I tell you that I have fun with
+her; she speaks broken English, and makes such odd faces
+when she talks.  She has a little lap-dog named Fanfan;
+she makes as much fuss with her as if she were a child&mdash;nasty,
+cross little thing it is!  She must have sponge-cake
+and cream twice a day.  I tell you, Mrs. Bruce, our cook
+gets mad enough.  I wish the little cur was in the ocean.
+What do you think? she sleeps in the bed with Mademoiselle!
+Just think of that! a dog in the same bed with a
+lady!" and Madeline threw herself back, and laughed
+heartily at the thought.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hope you do not tease Mademoiselle, Miss
+Madeline?" answered Mrs. Bruce.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Tease Mademoiselle!  Not much!" answered the child,
+with a roguish smile upon her dimpled face.  "Only when
+she gives me a hard lesson, I give her a hard one back by
+pulling Fanfan's tail, or boxing her ears slily; and then
+Mademoiselle rolls up her eyes, and cries out, 'Oh! ma
+petite mignon, ma pauvre petite Fanfan!' and then she
+takes up the horrid thing, with its sore eyes, and kisses it.
+Just think of kissing a lap-dog."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Try to be a good girl, Miss Madeline; it is a hard task
+for a young lady that has a good home to go out to teach.
+If you'll only think of that, I am sure that you will be kind
+to Mademoiselle!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm not a good girl, Mrs. Bruce.  I'm not used to
+thinking whether a thing is right or wrong; nobody ever
+said much to me about it but Roland.  I am sorry to be
+bad when it grieves Roland, for he is such a good boy.  I
+do believe that he is a Christian.  Where is he to-day,
+Mrs. Bruce?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He has gone to market with the vegetables; he always
+goes on Saturday, for he saves his mother all the labor that
+he can."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How does he go?  Has he a little cart?" asked Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"One of the neighbors lends him an old cart and horse,
+that is too old to be used by the family; but it makes
+Roland feel badly, because he is afraid that the poor horse
+is too old to work."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is that all you have to live on, Mrs. Bruce?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, my dear, I sew and knit for several of the neighbors."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think we can send you some work.  Aunt Matilda
+often wants some one to do plain sewing."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Bruce loved the warm-hearted little girl, and pitied
+her motherless condition.  She saw countless weeds springing
+up in the heart of the child, and resolved to try to
+scatter seeds of truth around her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What are you making, Effie?" inquired Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am making a shirt for George Belton, Miss Madeline.
+I made two last week."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, how in the world did you do that, Effie? go to
+school every day, learn your lessons, and make two shirts!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I rise very early in the morning, and sew two hours
+before school; I study as much as I can in school; and I
+sew all my leisure time."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's what makes you look so pale, Effie; what a pity
+that you have to work so hard!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I don't feel it, Miss Madeline; my mother has been so
+good and kind to me, that I am only too glad to help her
+now."  And Effie's blue eyes were turned upon her
+mother's face, with a look full of filial love.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, I must go now.  I learn good lessons here,
+Mrs. Bruce; you'll let me come and see you often&mdash;may I?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are always welcome, Miss Madeline, for I love
+you for your goodness to my dear children."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-bye, ma'am;" and Madeline Hamilton touched
+the hand of Mrs. Bruce with more real respect, than she
+felt for most of the circle of rich friends who visited at
+Woodcliff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunt Matilda, don't you want some plain sewing
+done?" said Maddy, as soon as she entered the house, for
+her little brain was teeming with plans of how she might
+do good to the Bruce family.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think we do," was the answer.  "I want some bed
+linen made up; our stock is getting low, and I was
+wondering whom I would get to do the work."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mrs. Bruce will do it, aunty; she is such a nice woman,
+and such a good sewer; and then she is so good, and so
+poor."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You may tell her, Madeline, to come up to-morrow, or
+next day; the work is all cut out; I should like her to
+have it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy hurried off early in the morning on her errand of
+love, tripped in so merrily, regardless of the dew upon
+the grass, so eager was she to carry good news.  Roland
+was at home, and met Madeline with a respectful manner
+that seemed very cold to our little girl.  Handing her the
+best chair, he bade her sit down, for this was the first time
+that he had ever welcomed her to his bumble home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunt Matilda wants you, Mrs. Bruce, to send for the
+work to-day; she has it all cut out, and wants you to do
+it all."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'll come up for it, Miss Madeline," answered Roland;
+"we are so much obliged to you for your goodness."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy began to laugh.  "I thought, Roland, that we
+made a bargain a little while ago; have you forgotten that
+you were to call me Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I don't think that it would be very proper for one who
+comes to your house to get work for his mother, to take
+such a liberty with the heiress of Woodcliff."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-bye, Mrs. Bruce," said the child, and away she ran.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mother, I cannot bear to see you work so hard," said
+Roland; "and then dear Effie looks so pale, her step is so
+languid.  Try, mother, to look up to Heaven, hoping and
+trusting; but everything looks so dark around us."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You must not say so, my son; the promises of God
+are 'yea and amen in Christ Jesus;' we believe that we
+are his children;' 'all things shall work together for good to
+those who love God;' let us keep our eyes upward, my
+dear boy; God is there, Roland&mdash;Jesus is there&mdash;our home
+is there."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is not much for us here, dear mother."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't forget, my son, the blood that flows in your
+veins, the blood of Christian heroes; do not be unworthy
+of them, Roland.  I gave you to God as soon as you were
+born, my child; I have trained you for Him; He has
+work for you, my son&mdash;I am certain of that.  Just trust
+Him; look upward, Roland, and you will see everything
+that is noble and holy.  Don't keep your eyes upon the
+earth; that will draw your soul downward.  There is a
+great deal to live for, Roland; God will lead you to some
+high and holy destiny, if you will only trust Him."
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But trust him for his grace;<br>
+  Behind a frowning Providence,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He hides a smiling face."<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>
+"You have cheered me, dear mother; what should I do
+without you?" answered the boy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The next morning, Roland went to Woodcliff for the
+work.  Madeline was not at home, and Roland was not
+sorry; for he felt that it was humbling to be there on such
+an errand.  The feeling was a wrong one, but Roland was
+a proud boy, though a poor one.  There was no little
+confusion in his soul on that day.  He was performing a
+filial duty, that he knew; he was doing nothing that he
+ought to be ashamed of, and yet the pride of his heart did
+rise up against the humiliation of menial service, in the
+sight of Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Not far from Roland's home lay the village church-yard,
+whither the inhabitants of the country around often
+resorted.  It was a charming spot, beautifully kept, and
+adorned with shrubbery, fine trees, and a variety of exquisite
+flowers.  Many of Mrs. Bruce's lessons to her children
+were taught in that rural cemetery on Sunday evening, after
+the services of the day were over.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the following Sunday, Roland strayed thither alone.
+He had not been there long, before Madeline entered, with
+Hector for her only companion.  Roland joined the child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is a beautiful place, Miss Madeline," remarked the
+boy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy put her fingers on her lips with rather an arch
+expression, as she said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will not talk to you, if you call me Miss."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland smiled, and continued, "Very well then, I
+suppose that it must be Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come with me, Roland; I want to show you my
+mother's grave," and Madeline led her companion to a
+secluded corner of the cemetery, where stood a splendid
+monument, on which was inscribed, "Sacred to the memory
+of Julia, the beloved wife of Lewis Hamilton, who departed
+this life June 16th, 1837."  The enclosure was beautifully
+laid out and adorned with choice flowers, and over the
+monument bent the branches of a noble tree.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Was your mother a Christian, Madeline?" asked the boy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do not know, Roland; I was too young to remember
+anything; I hope that she was."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you ever think of dying, Madeline?" asked her
+friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not often, Roland; it is too dreadful to think of the
+dark and gloomy grave.  I would rather think of living,
+Roland, in this bright world."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mother never lets me call it gloomy, Maddy; she says
+that it is only the gate which opens into heaven; and
+since Jesus hath lain there himself, she says that none
+who believe in him need be afraid."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you believe in him, Roland?" asked the child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Maddy, I do with all my heart, and love him,
+too; and all I want is to serve him here on earth, and live
+with him forever."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How long, Roland, is it since you have thought about
+these good things?" asked the little girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ever since I was a very little boy, Maddy.  I remember
+when I was so small that I could scarcely talk plain,
+that my mother used to lay her hand upon my head, and
+ask the dear Saviour to bless her boy.  Then, when I was
+older, she used to take me every night to bed, and that
+was the time when she led my young heart up to Heaven.
+She has had many trials, Maddy; but she is always happy,
+for she is always looking up, and she tries to make me just
+as hopeful."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I wish that I had such a mother, Roland; nobody
+ever talks so to me.  Aunt Matilda taught me the catechism
+and the creed, but it was just like saying parrot
+words; I do not know what they mean.  I believe in
+Jesus, but not the way you do.  I believe more in Roland,
+I think!" and the child smiled.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why; what do you mean, Maddy?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why when I want to do something wrong, I don't
+ask, how would Jesus like it; but I often ask, how would
+Roland like it?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Just pray, Maddy, every night, 'Open thou mine eyes,'
+and 'Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is that rock, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That rock is Christ, Maddy; if we keep our hearts
+fixed on him, we shall walk in the blessed way safely."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While talking thus, Elsie Gibson joined them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What are ye talking aboot, children?" asked the
+woman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Roland was showing me how to find the blessed way,
+Elsie."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He can lead you, Miss Madeline; he has a holy
+mother, he is a chiel o' prayer; and his ancestors were
+maist o' them holy men.  In the bloody days that tried
+men's souls, Roland's race was foremost in bearing their
+testimony to gospel truth."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You like Roland, Elsie, don't you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, my little bairn, I luve him for his ain, and for his
+father's sake.  I kenned his father, Miss Madeline, when
+I wore the snood o' a Scottish maiden."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Wasn't his father a relation of the great Bruce, Elsie?
+I have often thought so, but Roland laughs at me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I dinna ken, Miss Madeline, for ye ken that was mony
+years syne, and we canna find kinship back so far awa'."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Elsie, is Roland's father really dead? sometimes I
+think that he may be alive yet;" asked the child suddenly,
+fixing an earnest look upon Elsie Gibson's face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The question was evidently unexpected, but after a
+moment's silence, Elsie replied:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The vessel was lost, Madeline, and it has aye been
+said that ilka soul went doon."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The shadows of the setting sun were deepening, and
+Maddy, Roland, and Elsie walked together to the widow's
+cottage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Bruce invited Maddy in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will you take a seat among us this evening, Madeline?
+It is the time of our family worship."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy sat down on a low chair by the side of Mrs. Bruce,
+much sobered by the conversation in the cemetery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Reverently the mother read the sacred volume, and
+after singing a Sabbath evening hymn, in the words of
+solemn prayer, she addressed the throne of grace,
+commending all her dear ones to the care of the Good
+Shepherd, not forgetting the little girl who knelt with the
+humble family around that altar of domestic piety.  It
+was the first time that Madeline had ever joined in such
+an exercise, and she was deeply impressed by the sweet
+and soothing worship.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was so different from her own domestic circle, that
+Madeline could not but muse deeply on her way home;
+and, unconsciously to herself, from this moment really
+commenced the germ of that life which, though smothered
+for awhile, still the seed, perhaps smaller than the grain
+of mustard seed, was planted, which would hereafter lead
+the warm young soul upward, heavenward.  Ever looking
+aloft was the load-star at the widow's cottage, around
+which revolved all their plans, all their hopes.  Perhaps
+wild little Mad-cap, attracted by the same power, may
+also learn to look aloft from even the dangerous heights
+of Woodcliff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Effie's feeble health called for many little comforts which
+Mrs. Bruce could not afford; but ever and anon the tripping
+feet of Madeline Hamilton, or a basket of delicacies
+brought by Nanny, made large demands upon the gratitude
+of the widow's family.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't thank me, Mrs. Bruce," Maddy would often say;
+"Roland is so good to me, is so kind at school, and teaches
+me so much, that I cannot feel that I ever do enough in
+return for you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was, indeed, a strange sight to behold this little girl,
+usually so ungovernable, yielding to the slightest check
+from Roland; for she really respected the boy, who carried
+out his principles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Occasionally her wild spirits would burst forth, and an
+innate love of teasing led her to play jokes, even upon her
+friend Roland.  Fear of ridicule was his weakness; he
+could not bear to be laughed at; he was almost ashamed
+to own it, but it was really a fact.  Brave in other respects,
+he was really a coward here, and Maddy discovered it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Woe to Roland, when her mischievous fits were upon her!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Who is there, Nanny?" asked the child, perceiving that
+some one was in the hall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A boy wants to see you, Miss Madeline; he has something
+for you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, Roland, is it you? come into the parlor."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nanny looked surprised, but Roland stepped in, and,
+taking off his cap, seated himself respectfully.  He looked
+as if he really belonged to the parlor of Woodcliff; his
+whole bearing was so manly and self-possessed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline, I have something for you.  You know how
+often we have admired the sea-weed together; for a long
+time I have been gathering the most beautiful specimens
+that I could find, and mother has been drying it, and
+together we have arranged it in a book."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland opened the pages, and Madeline's joy was unbounded.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, how beautiful!  How did you ever do it, Roland?
+They look like the most lovely flowers.  Stop, Roland!  I'll
+get our microscope," and away she flew.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look!  Roland, look!  I never saw anything so sweet.
+It is the most charming present I ever had in all my life."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have some shells too, Madeline, but they are not very
+rare; but such as I could gather I have brought.  I am so
+glad that you are pleased."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have nothing that I shall think so much of as these.
+Your dear, kind mother, with all her cares, could remember
+little Mad-cap; and, Roland, it was so sweet to bring me
+just what I admire so much.  I shall keep them all the
+days of my life, to remember Roland and his mother."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was really an exquisite little book, arranged with the
+most delicate taste, and when Aunt Matilda was called in
+to see the gift, she was quite struck with the evidences of
+refinement visible in every page of these beautiful sea-weeds.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have something else, Madeline," and Roland brought
+out a tasty little moss basket, the gift of dear Effie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That evening found Madeline running down to the
+widow's cottage to thank her for the gift.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, dear, darling Mrs. Bruce, for your beautiful
+present," exclaimed the impulsive child, throwing her arms
+around her, and showering kisses upon her pale face.  "I
+shall keep it as long as I live, for I have nothing that I
+shall value like these beautiful weeds."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am glad that you are pleased, Madeline; it made us
+so happy to arrange them for you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How could you find time to think of little Mad-cap, with
+all your cares and troubles, dear Mrs. Bruce?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How could you, Miss Madeline, surrounded by all the
+elegance of Woodcliff, find time to think of us in our humble
+cottage?"
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap07"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER VII.
+<br><br>
+THE COTTAGE AND THE HALL.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+There are sorer battles than those waged on the field
+of strife, where the old and the new man contend in a
+human heart; and such had Roland fought on the morning
+of this day.  He thought that he had conquered, and with
+a brave spirit and cheerful countenance, he started for
+Woodcliff with the bundle of work which his mother had
+completed.  When he came in sight of the Hall his courage
+began to fail, for on the porch were several of Madeline's
+young acquaintances.  Roland recognized Mary James,
+Minnie Scott, and Ella Taylor, all schoolmates, but who
+had little to do with the Bruces.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What ails me?" said Roland to himself; "is it possible
+that I am so wanting in manliness, as to fear the ridicule
+of those silly girls?  Down at once with the feeling;
+poverty is nothing to be ashamed of;" and Roland hastened
+on with a firm step and head erect.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You seem to have a heavy load, Roland," said Mary
+James; "have you garden truck in your basket?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, Miss; I do not carry my vegetables around, we
+sell them in market."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Perhaps you are coming for old clothes, Roland; you
+look as if you wanted some," remarked Minnie Scott.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If you'll come round to our house, we can give you
+some," sneered Mary James.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Poor Roland was sorely tried; his clothes were very
+shabby, for it had been a long time since his mother had
+been able to buy him any&mdash;patched pantaloons and worn-out
+shoes indicated his poverty.  His cheeks were crimson,
+and his eyes flashed indignation, but he took no farther
+notice of the insulting remarks, or of the titter which
+passed round among the girls.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For shame, Mary!" exclaimed Madeline; "have you
+no feeling?  Roland is my friend, and shall be respected
+here."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By this time the boy had advanced to the piazza, and
+Madeline called for Nanny to come and take the bundles
+which he had brought.  Madeline then invited him into
+the house, and with real delicacy of feeling, made no farther
+allusion to the insolence of the children.  They entered the
+drawing-room where Aunt Matilda was seated.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunty, this is my friend, Roland Bruce; he has brought
+the work home."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She bowed stiffly.  "Could you not have taken the boy
+into the sitting-room, Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If those upstarts had not insulted him, perhaps I might
+have done so; but, as it is, I prefer to bring him here."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline was by this time fully roused.  She could not
+endure that a boy of Roland's character should be first
+insulted by her friends, and then by her aunt.  Turning to
+the latter, she said, "Will you please, ma'am, to entertain
+the young ladies while I shall be engaged with Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Which are your guests, Maddy, this boy, or the young
+ladies who have come to visit you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Just now this is my guest, Aunt Matilda.  There is no
+use of arguing with me," and with a proud toss of her
+brown ringlets, she turned to the boy who stood a silent
+listener.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come with me, Roland, I have many things to show
+you," and Madeline led the way, while Roland followed,
+by no means abashed by the magnificence which everywhere
+surrounded the young heiress&mdash;velvet carpets, lace
+curtains, rich furniture, splendid paintings, &amp;c., had no
+effect upon the manly boy, who, with a proud step and
+dignified carriage, followed his friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+First she led him to the library.  "I want you to look
+around, Roland, at the books; here is where I like to come
+on stormy days, when the wind is howling around.  Many
+an hour I've spent in this room."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland looked around delighted; he had never seen so
+many books together before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, Madeline, I should never want any other friends.
+Here are Cowper, and Milton, and Shakspeare, and our
+own Burns&mdash;and all these books of history.  You ought to
+be a very wise little girl."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, I know that, Roland; but I have not read the
+useful books; I read novels, and fairy tales, and all kinds
+of poetry, and aunty says they fill my head with nonsense.
+Would you like to read some of these books, Roland? for
+I have only to say so to papa, and he would lend them to
+please me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I could hardly ask such a thing, Madeline, but if he
+will, I promise to take good care of them, and to keep them
+covered."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Out of the library into the conservatory, Madeline
+conducted her friend.  Here again Roland was delighted, for
+dearly did he love flowers and all beautiful things.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How happy you ought to be, Madeline, with such a
+world of beauty all around you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Which of these flowers would you rather take home,
+Roland?" asked the child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His eye roved hastily around, and rested with a smile
+upon a simple purple flower, as he said, "That little
+mountain heather."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What! pass by these lovely roses, and take that little
+flower!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Madeline, I love it best; it is our own Scotch
+flower, and grows all over our dark mountains."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You shall have a plant to take home to your mother,
+Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next she led him up a long staircase and directed him to
+stand still at the head of the first landing; leading him to
+the window, she said, "Hark!  Roland, do you hear any
+music?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland stood entranced as he listened to the low, plaintive
+strains that came swelling over the strings of an
+Eolian harp, and as the breeze rose higher, louder, wilder,
+fuller swept the weird sounds among the strings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How beautiful, Madeline!" exclaimed the boy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's what I call the fairies' concert, Roland; on wild
+winter nights you cannot imagine what that music is
+like&mdash;it puts me in mind of Ossian's poetry."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Down the stair-case and out among her pets, next we
+find our little girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here are my pet doves, Roland; Patty and Jim; they
+know me now, and always begin to coo when I come near
+them.  And here is my canary&mdash;but I want you to see
+Bob," and out into the stable-yard trotted Maddy and ran
+up to a donkey that stood nibbling away at some grass.
+She patted him on the head, and Bob made a singular
+noise to show his pleasure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland attempted the same liberty, but in a minute,
+Master Bob kicked up his hind legs, and set up a hideous
+bray.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy laughed heartily, and said, "Bob don't like
+strangers, Roland; but that's the most harm that he ever
+does."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They are useful animals, Madeline.  I have often
+thought that it would be such a treasure if I had a cart and
+donkey; but that I cannot get, for we are too poor."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy smiled with a knowing look as she conducted her
+favorite back into the drawing-room, and, finding the coast
+clear, she described the pictures to Roland, and then sat
+down to the piano, and played and sang sweetly,
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "I remember, I remember<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The house where I was born&mdash;<br>
+  The little window where the sun<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Came peeping in at morn;<br>
+  He never came a wink too soon,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Nor brought too long a day;<br>
+  But now I often wish the night<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Had borne my breath away."<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>
+"I am much obliged to you, Maddy, for your kindness,
+but I really must go now; I have kept you long enough
+from your friends," and Roland took up his pot of heather
+to go home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Friends, indeed!  Fudge upon such friends!  They
+have no sense, and I don't care for one of them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just then, Mademoiselle put her head into the drawing-room
+door.  "Oh!  Mademoiselle Madeline, que fait vous?
+vous êtes trés impolie, voila vos jeunes amis, et vous êtes ici
+avec ce pauvre garçon."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do not faint, Mademoiselle, I know what I am about."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Que dira Mr. H.?  Lui qui est si Monsieur.  J'ai peur
+que tu ne seras jamais une dame; vous êtes impolie, M'lle.
+Venez avec moi!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline burst out laughing, and whispered to Roland,
+"She is a poor simple thing; I can't help laughing at her."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't, Maddy; she is your teacher, and therefore ought
+to be respected."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That will do for good people like you; Roland, I can't
+be so good."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By this time they had left the piazza, and Madeline
+conducted Roland out to the gate, passing Aunt Matilda and
+the young ladies in the avenue.  He raised his cap and
+bowed gracefully as he took his leave.  "Good evening,
+Miss Hamilton, I am sorry to have intruded so long."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good evening, sir," replied the lady haughtily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where in the world did he learn to make such a bow
+as that?" said Mary James.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He was born a gentleman," answered Madeline, "and
+if he were clad in rags, he would carry the same manners
+everywhere."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't talk such folly, Madeline," said her aunt; "Roland
+is well enough, but he is not a gentleman, nor the son
+of a gentleman, and no associate for Madeline Hamilton.
+You make a dunce of yourself, in the way that you behave
+to these people."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Perhaps so, aunty; but I shall never forget that I am
+a lady to every one."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You forgot it, Maddy, this afternoon, when you left
+your young friends, to entertain that boy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline blushed as she replied, "They were so rude,
+aunty, that I could do nothing else."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline has a remarkable taste," said Ella Taylor;
+"Roland and Effie Bruce are her chief companions at
+school."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I choose them for their worth, and because all the rest
+treat them badly," answered Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, we will not talk any more about it now," said
+Aunt Matilda; "Maddy always has her own way, and
+there is no use of crossing her while Lewis Hamilton is
+master."
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Papa, do you care much about my donkey?" said
+Maddy that evening to her father.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, Mad-cap, what makes you ask that question?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Because I am tired of riding about with Bob.  It has
+been several months since I drove him, papa, and I thought
+that we could put him to such good use now."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, what do you want to do with poor Bob, Maddy?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It would be such a nice little animal for Mrs. Bruce,
+papa.  Here, we only keep him for amusement, there, he
+would be so useful.  They have to borrow a crazy old cart,
+and a broken down horse every week to go to market,
+and if they only had a little cart, Bob could take their
+vegetables to market.  Shan't I give him to Mrs. Bruce,
+papa?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, Mad-cap, I believe that you would give your
+head away if it were loose; you may do what you please
+with poor Bob; but what about the cart?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, papa, there's a little cart that he used to drag
+sometimes; we don't use it now."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do what you choose, Maddy; it would be a good
+thing for the widow."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy did not wait a second bidding.  Accordingly, on
+the next Friday afternoon, Bob was geared up to the little
+cart, and Maddy took her seat, full of glee.  He was a
+perfectly safe animal, and our little girl had driven him
+many a time around the lanes of Woodcliff.  Madeline
+drew up to the door of the widow's cottage with a
+laughing countenance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come, Roland and Effie, I want to take you a ride this
+afternoon; jump in; I want to see if you can drive Bob,
+Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were soon seated in the little cart.  Bob was
+rather restive at first, for he soon recognized the voice of
+a stranger; but with Madeline's coaxing, they proceeded
+very well, and had a merry ride.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Shall I drive you home, Madeline?" asked Roland,
+after Effie had dismounted at the cottage-door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, I believe not, Roland; Bob may as well stay here,
+for cart and donkey are both yours."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It cannot be, Miss Madeline; the gift is too costly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Miss Madeline! here comes Roland's pride again!"
+answered the child.  "Bob is of no use to us now; I am
+tired of driving him about, and he's just the animal for
+you, Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What a good little friend your are, Maddy!  You are
+just like some kind fairy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What a good boy you are, Roland!  You are just like
+some grown-up friend; so you see we are about even after
+all.  I can give you what money can buy, and what will
+soon be gone; and you give me light, knowledge, strength,
+goodness, Roland, and that money cannot buy; so you
+see at last I can make it out that your gifts are better than
+mine."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was an invaluable gift to our young friend, for it
+enabled him to go regularly to market without borrowing
+from his neighbors; and it made Madeline very happy to
+see the sunshine which she had carried to the cottage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Effie was a gentle girl, and all that she could do to show
+her gratitude, was to raise her soft blue eyes to Maddy's
+face with speechless thanks, and to press her hand as they
+passed into the cottage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"May the good Lord bless you, Miss Madeline, for all
+your goodness," was the spoken gratitude of Mrs. Bruce.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is getting late now, good-bye; I hope that Bob
+won't be running away to his old stable; give him plenty
+of cabbage or turnip-tops;" and, with this injunction, away
+scampered the child, happier than she had ever been in all
+her life before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy was nearly right when she said, "we are about
+even after all," for the influence brought to bear so
+unconsciously upon her by this humble family, was of a
+character that could not well be measured.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a true remark which, in her simplicity, she had
+uttered, when she said, "I believe in Roland."  A word
+from him was of more avail than aught else, in checking her
+impulsive actions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the next Sunday morning, as Roland and Effie were
+on their way to the Sunday-school, whom should they see,
+smiling at them from the carriage window, but Madeline,
+who was riding out with her Aunt Matilda.  Roland hoped
+that they were going to church; but he had some doubts,
+for he had seldom heard the child speak about the house
+of God.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the evening they met at the cemetery, for it was a
+common thing for Madeline to walk there on Sunday.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where were you going, this morning, Maddy?" inquired
+her friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunty and I were taking a ride to see Mrs. Linden;
+she has not been very well all the week, and she thought
+that a ride would do her good."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But, Maddy, don't you know that this is God's day,
+and that we are commanded to keep it holy?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have never been taught, Roland, to make much
+difference; papa spends his Sunday mornings in the
+library; Aunt Matilda often has the head-ache, and cannot
+go out, and then I run off down to the shore with Hector,
+or else take the boat, and paddle about on the lake."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God did not give us the day of rest for our own
+pleasure, Maddy; it is the day when we ought to think
+especially of holy things, and spend it in such a way as
+will do our souls good, and please our Father in heaven."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What do you do on Sunday, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We go to the Sunday-school, where we learn about
+our blessed Saviour, and join in singing sweet praises to
+his holy name; then we go to church; and when we come
+home, dear mother always contrives something nicer for
+dinner than on other days, though remember, Maddy, it is
+prepared the day before; then she explains the Bible to
+us, and tells us some of those old Scotch stories, which we
+love to hear, about the holy men who died for their religion.
+Sunday is such a sweet day at our little cottage, we are all
+so close together then, and we feel how blessed is the
+thought that we shall spend our heavenly Sabbath together
+forever and ever."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, Roland! how different you are from us at Woodcliff.
+I get so tired of running about; I get tired of reading;
+I have no one to speak to, and we don't go to church
+more than once in every few weeks.  I run out in the
+kitchen and talk to our old cook, then I go talk to my pets,
+then I run into the library and read a little, but all the
+time, Roland, I want something that I cannot find."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I wonder if your father would let you come to our
+Sunday-school?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'll ask him, Roland; what do you do there?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We learn Bible lessons, hymns, and catechism; we
+have such kind, excellent teachers; and once a month we
+have missionary meetings."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I should think that it was very stupid to hear nothing
+all the time, but solemn talk about death and judgment."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland smiled.  "We hear of something else, Maddy;
+about the blessed Saviour, the friend of sinners, and about
+that happy land where Christians hope to go."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy turned an earnest look upon Roland's face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How do you <i>know</i>, Roland, that all these things are
+true?  How do you <i>know</i> that the Bible is really God's
+word?  Papa has some books in his library, by great men,
+who don't believe the Bible."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The Bible not true, Maddy!  I know but little of the
+reasons which prove it to be God's own word; but it would
+take me hours to tell you even what I know, there are so
+many things which prove it true.  It tells about so many
+things which were to happen hundreds of years before they
+occurred, and they came exactly as the Bible said they
+would.  It told that there would be a flood, and the flood
+came; we know that, not only from the Bible, but from
+other old histories, and from the sayings of many ancient
+nations.  Who could tell but God, what was going to come
+to pass, Maddy?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The child sat with a serious face turned towards Roland,
+as she replied, "I cannot answer that, Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It has also foretold the fate of wicked nations, of
+Babylon, of Jerusalem, of Sodom and Gomorrah; and just as
+it declared, has it happened.  It told of Jesus, when,
+where, and how he should be born; and just so he came&mdash;and,
+Maddy, there is a voice in all our hearts, that wants
+something better than we can have here, something that
+will last forever.  The good Father knows that, Maddy,
+for he put within us that immortal soul that longs for
+immortal joys; and then he sent us down from heaven
+these precious letters, which tell us of just such a state
+beyond the grave.  These letters were sent to God's own
+servants at different times, and gathered together in the
+days of King James, and made into the book which we
+call the Bible."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I suppose, Roland, that the voice which you speak of,
+is that which makes me sometimes feel so tired of
+everything, although I have so much; yet I am always wanting
+something that I have not got."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's what you want, Maddy; a heart at peace with
+God, through Jesus Christ our Lord."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline wore a very serious face, as she turned to leave
+her mother's grave, where she had been sitting; and,
+plucking a flower from one of the plants, she said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Roland, I'll go with you to Sunday-school; I want to
+know more about these good things."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am afraid that your father will not want you to go
+among the people of our church, we are not of the same
+sect as he."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, you know, Roland, I can coax him to anything;
+and though Aunt Matilda is very bigoted in her notions,
+he won't mind what she says, if I want to go."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Saturday evening came, and Maddy, mounting her
+father's lap, said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Papa, what would you give to know what I have in
+this paper?" (and folding her hands tight over the package,
+she turned her beaming face upon her father).  "Before
+I open it, I want you to promise me something&mdash;it is
+something very good, papa; just say I shall have it, and
+then I'll show what I have for you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Papa smiled upon his little daughter, as he said, "I
+should like to know what it is before I promise."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is, indeed, papa, something very good&mdash;just say
+yes; that's a dear, good papa."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Very well, Maddy, I say yes&mdash;now open the paper."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bending over her package, she opened just a small
+portion, and holding it up before her father, said, with an
+arch expression on her bright young face,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Just peep a little, papa," (and then closing it again,)
+"now, as soon as you give me two sweet kisses, you shall
+see what I have."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Papa was only too willing to grant the request, and
+Madeline, trembling with delight, said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There, papa, see what little Mad-cap has made for
+you;" and, opening wide her package, she produced a pair
+of beautiful slippers, which, after months of labor, she had
+worked for her father.  It was her first piece of work, and
+quite a triumph of her skill.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is a sweet gift, Maddy; I shall be almost too proud
+of them to wear them.  Who would ever have thought of
+my wild little daughter's working a pair of slippers?" and
+Mr. Hamilton kissed his darling child again and again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I never should have thought of doing it, papa, but
+Mrs. Bruce told me that I ought to do something for my kind
+father; and she showed me how to work them.  Come,
+papa, put out your foot, let's try them on; why they fit
+beautifully; I am so glad!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And now, what does my little daughter want?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, papa, just let me go to Roland Bruce's Sunday-school.
+I get so tired on Sunday.  Half the time Aunt
+Matilda does not go to church, and I have to wander about
+all day, tired of everything."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Brother, will you let the child go there?  They are not
+of our church; she will learn all kinds of puritanic notions;
+I really think she ought to be brought up in the religion of
+her parents."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And so do I, Matilda, most emphatically; but if you
+do not attend to that yourself, and she must either lounge
+about the house all day, rove up the sea-shore, and among
+the lanes and woods, or go to Sunday-school with the
+Bruces, where she can occupy her busy mind with something
+good, I think the latter is to be preferred.  You can
+go, my daughter, if it promotes your happiness."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She will have no associates of her own class, if you
+allow this intimacy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She's only a child, Matilda; future years will regulate
+all that."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We shall see, brother; I am afraid that you will repent
+of the step."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy had gained the day; and on Sunday morning,
+off she trotted with her friends, the Bruces, with great
+delight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The exercises pleased her; fortunately, she was placed
+under the care of a wise and excellent teacher; and Maddy
+spent the first Sunday much to her satisfaction.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But with all these influences, she was still the same
+mischief-loving child as ever.  Old Betty, the cook, Nanny,
+her own maid in the kitchen, Mademoiselle in the school-room,
+and Aunt Matilda in the parlor, were all in turn the
+subjects of her practical jokes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The first of April bad arrived, and her little brain was
+busy with its plans.  Early in the morning, Roland received
+a note in printed letters, stating that if he would go down
+to the sea-shore in the afternoon, and walk up to old Peter's
+cabin, then down to the rock, he would find something
+hanging on the flag-staff to his advantage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had entirely forgotten that it was the first of April,
+and his curiosity being awakened, he started off early in
+the afternoon, and followed the directions given.  When
+he reached the rock, hanging to the flag-staff was a
+package directed to him, which he commenced opening; after
+removing many envelopes, he found a short note, directing
+him to take the donkey and go to the next town, stopping
+at the post-office, where he would find further directions,
+and with the injunction to be sure and not neglect the hint.
+Accordingly, he went; when reaching there, he found a
+large and heavy package, directed in the same manner.
+On opening it, it contained a brick, very carefully covered
+in a number of newspapers, with directions to go to the
+woods near Maple Lane school, and under the large oak-tree
+by the door, he would find a spot marked by a board
+with R.G.B. printed on it; on digging it up, he would
+find the object of his search.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland followed the direction; and, after much digging,
+found a box directed as the rest; on opening of which he
+drew out a small toy bagpipe, with the direction, "For
+Roland when he visits the Highlands."  Just as he was
+examining the toy, out sprang Maddy, and making a low
+courtesy, said&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is the first of April, Roland; I hope you are not very
+tired."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was the first time that she had seen him displeased.
+He did not smile, for his time was very precious, and he
+had wasted the whole afternoon with Madeline's folly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am sorry, Miss Madeline, that you saw fit to send me
+on such a chase.  It will do for rich people to waste their
+time&mdash;I have something else to do."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was only in fun, Roland; I did not think that it
+would make you angry."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I never could bear to be laughed at, and then I had
+something very particular to do for my mother.  It was
+not kind to serve me such a trick."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I did not know that you were such a touchy boy, Roland.
+I don't think that you need make such a fuss about
+a trifle."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can't help it; I never could take a joke.  Good-bye,"
+and Roland mounted his donkey, and rode away without
+another word.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Poor little Maddy! she had not thought of such an end
+to her sport, and her proud spirit was fully aroused.  She
+knew that she had done nothing very wrong, and felt
+really angry at Roland for his conduct.  She thought that
+it was foolish, and determined to make no further apology.
+He might go with his Scotch pride for all that she cared;
+and with one hand, she haughtily tossed her curls, but with
+the other, wiped away tears that would fall in spite of her
+pride.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland had a battle to fight all the way home.  He felt
+that he had done wrong; he had betrayed unchristian
+tempers in the presence of one whom he desired to benefit,
+had injured the cause of his Master, and wounded the feelings
+of a kind little friend, who was only enjoying, as she
+thought, a harmless piece of fun.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The old man was very strong that day in Roland's heart;
+and poor Bob felt something of the inward strife, as the
+boy unconsciously urged him forward with the hard heels
+of his boot.  The new man whispered other counsels&mdash;"You
+ought to be ashamed of yourself, Roland Bruce;
+you pretend to be a Christian, and to get so vexed at a
+piece of fun from a frolicsome little girl, who is such a good
+friend to you."  Roland slackened his pace, and by the
+time that he had reached the cottage door, the new man
+had prevailed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where have you been, Roland?" asked his mother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, mother, this is the first of April, and Madeline
+has sent me on a wild goose chase this whole afternoon.  I
+was very angry at first, and said some unkind things for
+which I am very sorry."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I need not tell you what is your duty, Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, dear mother; I will not lay my head upon my
+pillow to-night, without clearing my conscience."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as tea was over, he walked over to Woodcliff;
+and when near the house, met his little friend walking with
+a serious step along the lane.  As soon as she saw Roland,
+she turned her head away, drew up her form to its utmost
+height, and with a proud step attempted to pass by.  But
+Roland crossed her path, and taking off his cap said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline, I could not go to my rest to-night, without
+asking your pardon for my rudeness.  I am very sensitive
+to ridicule, but I do hope that you will forgive my hasty
+speech.  I ought to have been ashamed of myself for such
+conduct to you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She turned her face towards the boy.  Her eyes were
+swimming with tears, but she extended her hand, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do forgive you, Roland, but I cannot tell you how
+much you wounded me, for I was only in fun; and then,
+Roland, I thought that Christians never get angry."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is what grieved me so much, Madeline; that I,
+who try to teach you, should have forgotten myself so far;
+it has taught me a good lesson, and bade me to look up for
+help, for my strength is all weakness when the tempter
+comes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, we are friends now, Roland; I could not bear to
+be angry with you.  I shall not forget this first of April,
+and know where to play my tricks in future."
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap08"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER VIII.
+<br><br>
+BOSTON RELATIVES.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+"Which way, Maddy, this vacation?" asked Mr. Hamilton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What do you think of Boston, papa?  I have not seen
+Aunt Clara so long; may I not go there?  I don't
+remember her at all."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is what I was thinking of, Maddy; your aunt has
+written so often.  I am afraid, however, that you will have
+a sober visit, for Aunt Clara is a very religious woman."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have cousins in Boston, papa, and they will make my
+time pass pleasantly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, you shall go, Maddy, and then your cousins may
+visit you at Christmas."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What kind of a looking person is Aunt Clara, papa?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She used to be a pleasant looking woman when she
+was young, not very handsome, Maddy; but since she has
+lost her children she has also lost all her bloom, and lives
+entirely secluded from the world."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy was full of anticipated pleasure; but there was
+one drawback&mdash;she did not like to leave her friends at the
+cottage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I came to bid you good-bye, Mrs. Bruce," said the
+child.  "I am going to Boston to spend the holidays; but
+I shall not find such good friends there, I am sure."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is one request I have to make, Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is that, Mrs. Bruce?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That you will bring me back your likeness."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That I will, if you want it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland, Effie and Maddy started to pay their last visit
+for some time to the sea-shore.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Shan't I miss the old ocean, Roland?  I do so love to
+hear the music of its waves."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We shall miss you, Maddy," said Effie.  "Only think,
+you will be gone three whole months, and when you get to
+Boston, you may forget your country friends."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's what I never do, Effie," replied the child, with
+a glowing cheek.  "I do not fancy very many people, but I
+never grow cold to those I once love.  I hate warmly, and
+I love with all my heart."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland sat very still, for secluded as their lives were,
+there was but one source of pleasure to them outside the
+cottage walls, and that was the society of our impulsive
+little Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Papa told me to say to you, Roland, that you may come
+up to Woodcliff every Saturday, and get any book you want
+to read."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, Madeline; that is very kind.  It will help
+to pass my leisure time until you return."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline mounted the highest rock, and, standing by the
+flag-staff, she spread out her arms towards the sea, saying,
+"Good-bye, old ocean, until I come back.  I shall find
+nothing so grand as this, go where I may."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They parted at the cottage door, and next morning, Aunt
+Matilda was busily employed in packing up all the finery
+that she could gather for her little niece.  Handsome
+dresses, and pretty tasty waists, several new bonnets, and
+every variety of adornment that she could devise, were
+heaped upon the child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, Madeline, I do hope that you will not be such a
+wild little thing in Boston.  If you want to be like a young
+lady, you must not race about so&mdash;it tumbles your curls, and
+disarranges your dress.  No young lady is ever noisy or
+boisterous.  When you are invited out, you must always
+wear gloves, and make a courtesy when you come in and
+when you go out."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am afraid, Aunty, that I shall often forget these rules;
+I shall never stop to think of half of them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hope, Madeline, that you will not mortify me by any
+breach of etiquette."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A fig for etiquette, Aunt Matilda; I am only a little
+girl, and I am sure that Aunt Clara don't want me to be a
+little woman."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In due time, Maddy, accompanied by her father, started
+on her trip.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She had some dread of Aunt Clara, for she had heard so
+much about her sorrows, her piety, and her gravity, that
+she really expected to see a woman solemn as the grave,
+and demure as a cloistered nun.  Towards evening, they
+arrived at Mrs. Edmonds'; and when Maddy entered the
+parlor, nothing could exceed her surprise on meeting a
+small lady of middle age, with a serene aspect and
+peculiarly sweet smile around her mouth; her almost youthful
+innocence of expression would have misled one, were it not
+for the silver hair which lay upon her fair forehead in
+rippling waves, falling in a few light curls around her face,
+and speaking so deeply of grief and sundered ties.  A black
+silk dress, and white lace cap and collar&mdash;simple, but costly,
+was the costume which at all times, distinguished Aunt
+Clara.  A pretty little foot, and delicate hands, especially
+attracted Madeline's attention.  The only ornaments she
+wore, were a mourning pin containing her children's hair,
+her wedding ring, and a plain gold watch.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Clara folded Maddy affectionately in her arms, and
+turning to Mr. Hamilton, with much feeling, remarked&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What an image of Julia!  I shall love you, Madeline,
+for my dear sister's sake."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is so, Clara; she grows every day more and more
+like her mother.  Just as impulsive; just as warm-hearted."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy decided at once that Aunt Clara was charming.
+After a hasty toilet, Maddy was conducted to the family
+room.  Everything was so genial and cheerful, that she
+really enjoyed her tea out of the bright silver urn; and the
+old family plate seemed to shine with such a polish under
+the gas-light, that she wondered if it was brought out in
+compliment to the strangers.  It really did smile a bright
+welcome.  The family consisted of Aunt Clara, and an
+orphan child, the daughter of a dear friend, who had died
+when she was an infant.  Ever since, Mrs. Edmonds had
+supplied a mother's place to Lucy, who bore her mother's
+name.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline was introduced to the young girl, who appeared
+about fourteen.  She soon found that Lucy was gentle and
+attractive in her manners, with a degree of seriousness
+unusual in a girl of her age.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lucy Edmonds was drawn towards the bright and beautiful
+child, who prattled so sweetly around the supper
+table; for not being possessed of many personal charms,
+she was a warm admirer of it in others.  Lucy's chief
+attraction was a profusion of glossy black hair, that lay in
+heavy folds around a remarkably fine head; a pale
+complexion, ordinary features, and soft dark eyes, made up the
+rest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as tea was over, Madeline drew Lucy into the
+parlor, and seating herself upon the sofa by her side, she
+rattled away with questions, for which she scarcely waited
+for an answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you ever see Lavinia Raymond?  What a conceited
+piece she is!  Is she just as fond of dress as ever?
+When she was at our house, all she thought about was
+changing her dress, and walking up and down before the
+glass.  I suppose that I must be polite to her, for her
+mother is my father's sister; but I know I shall like you
+better, Lucy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lucy was amused at the perfect openness of Madeline's
+remarks, but she had been taught better lessons, and merely
+replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lavinia comes to see us occasionally; our doings are
+not pleasing to her; but mamma does not like me to make
+unpleasant remarks about people.  Lavinia has never been
+taught anything better.  We ought to be sorry for her."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well! well! you are a good little Lucy, I see that.  I
+am afraid that you will not like my plain-spoken words."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I like truth, Madeline; but it is not well, mamma says,
+to express all that we think about people.  Charity should
+lead us to hope the best of everybody."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do believe that you are a Methodist, Lucy; that's the
+name that is given to very good people, is it not, Lucy?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There are very good people among all Christians,
+Madeline; but I think that my mamma is the best of all."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lucy, will you give us some music?" said Aunt Clara.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She did not need any coaxing, but went forward to the
+instrument with the calm self-possession of one that had
+been taught to think but little of herself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lucy Edmonds had a sweet voice, and sang several songs
+most charmingly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's what I like, Lucy," remarked little Mad-cap.
+"Now there was Lavinia Raymond, who has had the very
+best masters; it was the greatest act of condescension for
+her to play one piece, and then it was done in such an
+affected style, that I really used to feel sick when she sat
+down to the piano.  Here! this was the way;" and Madeline
+seated herself at the instrument, and, being a perfect
+mimic, commenced rolling her eyes, and mincing her words
+in imitation of her cousin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline," said Aunt Clara, "did not Lavinia stay with
+you some months?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, ma'am, she was at Woodcliff three months."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is it kind, Maddy, to ridicule her?  You know that she
+is your cousin, and has been your guest.  Never mind
+Lavinia, Maddy, I would rather hear some of your music."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I would play willingly, Aunt Clara, but I only know a
+few simple songs."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She sat down with such an artless, winning manner, that
+Aunt Clara listened with peculiar delight, not only on
+account of the manner with which she complied, but with
+feelings of deep emotion, as the rich music of her remarkable
+voice reminded her of the sister whom she had lost.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you like Scotch songs, Aunt Clara?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, my dear; will you sing one?" and Maddy sang
+with peculiar sweetness&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "Ye banks and braes o' bonny doon,<br>
+  How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair,"<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+but when she sang in her own touching way,
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "I am wearing awa', Jean,"<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+Mrs. Edmonds could not restrain the starting tears, for it
+was her sister's favorite song.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+About nine o'clock, a bell was rung, which assembled
+the family for prayers.  The two servants, with
+Mr. Hamilton, Lucy, and Madeline, composed the worshipers.
+Lucy took her seat at the piano, and played an evening
+hymn, in which all present joined; and Aunt Clara's soft
+impressive voice read the Scriptures, and a solemn form of
+evening prayer, which committed all present to the care of
+the Good Shepherd.  All was serious, and yet there was
+a sweet cheerfulness about the whole household, which
+had a most harmonizing influence upon our little girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-night, my love," said the kind aunt, as she kissed
+the niece; "Lucy will show you to your room."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a dear little chamber adjoining Aunt Clara's
+room, which had been fitted up for Madeline.  It was a
+gem of a child's sleeping-room&mdash;a pretty green carpet, the
+dearest little bedstead and wash-stand, the prettiest little
+bureau, and neatest chairs, a hanging-shelf filled with such
+nice books&mdash;pure white curtains, the sweetest toilet set,
+and pictures of domestic scenes of innocent and happy
+childhood.  It was charming!  So thought Madeline as
+she looked around.  And when she saw the little Bible
+and hymn-book, which were placed upon a table near her
+bed, she felt that Aunt Clara had forgotten nothing that
+could make her good and happy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The first bell awoke our little girl, and in a few minutes,
+Lucy peeped in to see what progress she was making.
+She was soon dressed, and, after a few verses in the Bible,
+and a short prayer of simple words, Maddy met good Aunt
+Clara in the breakfast-room.  Smiling and serene, she
+kissed her little niece; and, after the morning devotions
+and breakfast were over, Aunt Clara, taking Madeline by
+the hand, went up to her chamber.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, my dear niece, there are a few things which I
+wish you to do, after the chambermaid has attended
+to the ordinary care of your room.  I want you to keep
+everything in perfect order, putting up your comb and
+brush, hanging up your dresses, and putting away everything
+that you are not using; neatness is invaluable to a
+woman, and I hope that you have been accustomed to
+these things."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy smiled, and said, "I don't think that I ever hung
+up a dress in all my life; Nanny did everything of that
+kind for me; but I'll try to remember, if I can."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So I suppose, Madeline; but it is a good thing to learn
+to wait upon yourself.  After a while, we will take a ride;
+I want to show you the environs of Boston."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The child was enchanted with all that she saw; her
+innocent expressions of delight amused Aunt Clara, and
+brought back many a train of tender thought, as her
+enthusiasm recalled the image of her mother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When she reached home, she found that Lavinia Raymond
+had been to see her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is not this foolish, Aunt Clara, for Lavinia, who is
+only a little girl, to leave her card for her cousin?  She is
+a real dunce to put on such airs."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Stop, Madeline; it is your cousin, and you should not
+indulge in such free remarks."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But, Aunt Clara, I would not say one word behind her
+back, that I would not to her face; I've told her many a
+time that she was a simpleton."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you expect to go through this world, Maddy, telling
+everybody what you think of them?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If I don't by my words, I must by my manners; for
+I cannot, for the life of me, be polite to people whom I
+do not like; that seems deceitful, Aunt Clara."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, Maddy, you are mistaken; courtesy is due to all&mdash;you
+may form very erroneous opinions of people; and there
+could be no social intercourse if all the thoughts that pass
+through our minds, are to be obtruded at all times upon
+persons whom we may not choose to fancy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next day, Lucy and Madeline called upon Lavinia.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What did you mean, Lavinia, by leaving your card the
+other day?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, Madeline, that is the fashionable way of paying
+visits!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Poh!  Lavinia, we are nothing but little girls; and it is
+just ridiculous for us to be playing the woman."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lucy could not but smile at her homely bluntness, and
+thought that her mamma would have some trouble before
+she could tame the spirits, or discipline Madeline's voluble
+tongue.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a day or two, Aunt Clara invited a few choice little
+girls to take tea with our young friends.  They were
+pleasant children, just such as Madeline liked, fond of play,
+and not too old to talk about dolls.  Lavinia, who was one
+of the party, looked down upon the rest with supreme
+contempt, and when asked to join in their childish plays,
+could only answer, "No, I thank you; pray excuse me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lucy Edmonds exerted herself to the utmost: joined in
+their plays, and when they wanted to dance, played several
+cotillons for their amusement.  Aunt Clara brought out
+some childish games, and in her own sweet winning
+manner, made one of the company.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline passed a delightful evening.  After the children
+had gone, she hung around her aunt, as if wanting to say
+something.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is it, Maddy?  Have you not something to tell me?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Seating herself on a little stool at her aunt's feet, she
+said, "How is it, Aunt Clara?  I heard that you were so
+stern and cold, and that you thought it a sin even to smile.
+I thought that I should be so afraid of you; then you let
+us dance, and I always thought that good people did not
+dance.  I am not at all afraid of you, Aunt Clara, and I
+love you so much more than I do Aunt Matilda."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have made some common mistakes, Madeline; the
+world likes to cast reproach upon the children of God, and
+so they represent us as dull and gloomy; but the Bible
+does not, Maddy.  The righteous there are always spoken
+of as the only happy people in the world&mdash;merriment
+belongs to the days of childhood, Madeline, and if the joy
+of the spirit leads the feet to a dancing motion, let it be so;
+only let it stop when childhood has passed away; more
+serious duties, cares, and joys then have claims upon us."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You let Lucy dance, then, Aunt Clara?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Madeline, here at home if she wishes to; but
+dancing-schools and children's balls, and all these foolish
+displays, I entirely discourage."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What will you do, aunt, when Lucy is a grown-up lady?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am trying all that I can to give Lucy a strictly
+religious education, and, by the blessing of God, I expect
+that she will be a Christian; that will regulate all the rest,
+Madeline.  Lucy will not then need the vain amusements
+of the world to make her happy&mdash;when the butterfly bursts
+its shell, it feeds no more upon the food which satisfied the
+grub, but honeyed sweets alone suits its new nature; so
+with the child of God, Maddy, who can say,
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "Let worldly minds the world pursue,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It has no charms for me;<br>
+  Once I admired its follies too,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But grace has set me free."<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, dear aunt, if all pious people were just like you,
+I think that everybody would want to be Christians; but
+there was Miss Molly Tibbs, with a face as long as my arm,
+and a mouth drawn up like a persimmon, she thought it
+was a sin to laugh, and that pink was a wicked color; just
+think of that, Aunt Clara, the sweet color of the lovely rose
+wicked!  Did you ever hear such stuff?  But wasn't she
+a vixen! scolding from morning till night&mdash;tormenting her
+little brothers and sisters, and making everybody unhappy
+around her."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Poor lady!  What a pity that she had not studied the
+character of our blessed Master, whose whole errand upon
+the earth was to make men happy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the first Sunday after her arrival she accompanied
+Aunt Clara and Lucy to church.  It was a solemn service,
+and the minister was an earnest, faithful preacher of the
+simple gospel.  When the sweet organ rolled through the
+church with its swell of heart-stirring music, Madeline was
+carried away, for she was not accustomed to the organ in
+their humble village church.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Was not that lovely music, Aunt Clara?" asked the
+child; "it is so different from our country choir.  I could
+listen all day to music like that; and the voices, Oh! how
+that lady's sounded; it seemed to ring, Aunt Clara, just
+like a sweet bell, and then it rolled up and up, and I could
+follow it all round the roof&mdash;it seemed to carry us right up
+to Heaven."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sunday was a happy day at Aunt Clara's.  She wore
+her brightest smile on that blessed day, and everything
+around her household breathed of the sweet calm within
+that holy bosom.  In the corner of the parlor stood a harp
+closely covered.  Madeline had often wondered who played
+upon the instrument, and at last ventured to ask Aunt
+Clara.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was very fond of the instrument, Madeline, and used
+to play upon it in the happy days when my husband and
+children were with me; but since then I have never
+touched it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will you not let me hear some of its sweet strains,
+Aunt Clara?  I never heard the harp," asked Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is out of tune, Maddy; but to-morrow I will send
+for the tuner, and you shall be gratified."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Whose pictures are those, Aunt Clara?" asked the
+child, as she stood gazing at the portraits of two lovely
+children, a boy of twelve, and a girl of nine years of age.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is my Edward, Madeline, and that is my sweet
+Agnes; they have been among the blessed ones seven
+years now; they were lovely and pleasant in their lives,
+and in their death they were not divided.  Only one week
+separated them.  Edward was taken first with scarlet fever,
+and Agnes followed him in one short week.  Oh!  Madeline,
+these were dark hours when I laid my darlings in the grave;
+but they were lambs of Jesus' flock, Maddy, and the
+comfort came.  Jesus healed my wounds with his own gracious
+hand.  I can say now, 'The Lord gave, and the Lord hath
+taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What a sweet face Agnes has!  She looks so pure,
+just like a sweet lily of the valley."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's what we used to call her, Maddy, for she was
+just as lovely as those sweet lilies.  Look here, my child,"
+and Mrs. Edmonds opened a little book which contained a
+number of dried flowers.  "These she gathered the last
+year of her sweet life, and pressed them for her mother;
+they are so precious, Madeline.  Come up stairs, my dear,
+I want to show you something else," and Aunt Clara led
+the way to a small room that was always locked.  "This
+was my darlings' play-room, Maddy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A baby house, a rocking horse, some hanging shelves
+filled with books, several dolls, a little bureau filled with
+dolls' dresses, and a box of carpenters' tools&mdash;all these
+sweet mementoes were there.  But that which touched
+Madeline most, was the last Christmas tree that the mother
+had ever dressed.  There it was, with all its little keepsakes
+from various friends.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh!  Aunt Clara, did it not break your heart to part
+with both?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It would have done so, my child, but for the grace
+which bade me look upward, when the first storm of grief
+had passed, and I could look up at the crown of glory, the
+palms of victory, and the white robes of the upper world;
+then by degrees my grief was stilled, and I have found
+comfort in lightening the griefs of my fellow-sufferers, and
+spreading the flowers of love along the path of other
+children, as I would have done for my own darlings."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's what makes you so good to Lucy, dear aunt,"
+answered Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lucy is a great blessing, dear; she is so thoughtful for
+her years.  I think she never forgets my sorrow, and is
+always trying to make up for the loss of those who have
+gone before."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, aunt, I never should have thought that you had
+seen so much trouble, you are always so smiling and happy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Maddy, there are some of the marks of the grief that
+wrung my heart," and she pointed to the silver hair, so fine,
+so soft, "it turned white in one night, my child."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline felt a deeper reverence for her dear aunt from
+that day, and by every means in her power tried to show
+her love for her afflicted relative.  And in return, Aunt
+Clara learned to love most tenderly the wild child of nature
+committed for a time to her care.  The next day, the tuner
+was sent for, and in the evening, Aunt Clara entertained
+Madeline with some exquisite sacred music on the harp.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have often heard papa talk about the harp, he is so
+fond of that instrument.  Would it not be a great surprise
+if I could learn the harp without his knowledge? he would
+be so delighted."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We will see about it, Maddy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next day, Mrs. Edmonds engaged one of the best teachers
+in Boston, and laid out a daily plan for her little niece as
+well as Lucy, for she well knew that idleness is the bane
+of happiness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Line upon line, and precept upon precept," was, however,
+the discipline which she had constantly to exercise in
+training the wayward nature of her interesting charge.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One day Aunt Clara looked over the banisters, and saw
+her little niece talking very earnestly to a poor woman at
+the front door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come here, Madeline, I want to speak to you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Wait a minute, aunt," said the child, "I will be there
+directly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Who is that woman, Maddy?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I don't know, aunt; but she is so poor and ragged.
+She has five children, and no husband, and they are starving
+to death."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How do you know that, my child?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, aunt, she said so," replied Maddy, with an earnest
+look.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What did you give her, my child?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"All that was in my purse, aunt."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And how much was that?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Only two dollars, aunt, and that is so little to buy
+clothes and food for so many."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You had better not give money in that way, my child."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Edmonds went to the door, took the woman's
+address, and promised to call upon her the next day.  Accordingly
+she went, but no such person lived there, or could be
+heard of in the neighborhood.  Madeline was sadly
+chagrined, when she found that the woman had told such a
+dreadful falsehood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So you see, my dear, it is not best to give money at
+the door; it is always advisable to visit such cases."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What a shame! Aunt Clara, for that woman to be so
+wicked; she might prevent us from giving to one who is
+really deserving."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So it is, my dear; but we have to learn some very sad
+lessons in this wicked world."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline frequently visited Lavinia, not because she
+wished to do so, but simply on the ground of relationship,
+and Lavinia frequently sent for her.  One morning, a
+servant rung the bell, and left cards for Madeline and Lucy,
+from Lavinia Raymond for the next Tuesday evening,
+announcing herself at home at eight o'clock.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunt Clara, must we go?  I don't want to go to any
+such parties of would-be men and women."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I suppose that you must go, Maddy; you will give
+great offence to your Aunt Raymond, if you do not."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am not going to dress up in anything but a simple
+muslin, aunt, and if she don't like it, I don't care."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is the most becoming for a little girl; it is what
+Lucy will wear."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The evening arrived, and Lavinia was quite shocked at
+the plebeian simplicity of Madeline and Lucy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why did you not wear one of your silk dresses,
+Madeline? this is a full dress party.  I think you might have
+paid me the compliment."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I came as a little girl, Lavinia, not as a young lady."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are the greatest simpleton that I ever saw, Madeline,
+with a father rich enough, and indulgent enough to
+give you anything you want, and you care no more for dress
+than a little country girl."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is just what I am, Lavinia."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sight of so many over-dressed children aping all the
+airs and graces of grown men and women amused our little
+girl, and no sooner was she at home, than she commenced
+mimicking the folly that she had witnessed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunty, there was one of the most terrible gluttons there
+among these would-be ladies that I ever met with.  She ate
+of everything upon the table, every variety of ice-cream and
+cake, and jelly, and confectionery; she ate oysters, and
+drank champagne; and to crown all, she filled her pockets
+with choice bon-bons; and when the candied fruit-basket
+was broken, took her share of that.  I wonder how she got
+home; I know that she was deadly sick, for she looked as
+pale as a ghost.  I'd rather sail on the lake back of our
+house with two or three little girls, than go to a dozen
+grand parties like that.  You ought to have seen Lavinia,
+Aunt Clara, flounced to the waist, quantities of jewelry,
+hair dressed by a fashionable hair-dresser, and she bowed
+and courtsied about all the evening, as if she were
+twenty-one, instead of thirteen."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My dear Madeline, will you ever remember that you
+were entertained last evening by Lavinia, and that you
+should not indulge in such free remarks?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can't help it, Aunt Clara; I hate affectation, and
+despise flirts; a flirting child is perfectly horrid."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"These are strong expressions, my dear child; I do not
+think that the occasion calls for them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I expect, aunt, that I shall have to take Lavinia home
+with me.  Aunt Raymond hinted it last night; but I must
+have Lucy; shan't I, Aunt Clara?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We will see, my dear; I should like Lucy very much
+to spend a few weeks in the country.  I think that she needs
+the change."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will you go with me to-morrow to a good artist?  I
+promised to take some of my likenesses home.  Mrs. Bruce
+would be so disappointed."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And who is Mrs. Bruce, Maddy?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She is one of my best friends, but she is very poor,
+aunt; she has to do plain sewing, and go to market for her
+living; she has two such good children, one named Roland,
+he is so good and so wise; they have taught me so much,
+Aunt Clara; and then she has a daughter Effie, such a dear
+girl; they are Scotch people, aunt, you would like them so
+much."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is Mrs. Bruce a lady, Maddy?" asked her aunt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A lady, aunt!  I don't know what to say; she has
+nothing that any other lady has; she has a very mean home,
+common clothes, and they are one of the poorest families
+around Woodcliff; but there is something about her, aunt,
+not at all like the common poor; she is educated, refined,
+polite, pious&mdash;yes, aunt, she must be a lady&mdash;sometimes I
+think Roland must have been a relation to the great Bruce,
+he is such a hero."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline succeeded in getting some really good pictures
+of herself; giving one to Aunt Clara, and one to Aunt
+Raymond, she reserved the remainder for dear friends at home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here is a letter, Aunt Clara, from dear papa; he will
+be here in two weeks, and says that Lavinia and Lucy must
+be ready to go home with us&mdash;you will not object, dear
+aunt?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, Maddy, Lucy can go."  Madeline was very happy
+at the idea of returning to Woodcliff, though sorry to leave
+her beloved aunt.  She had made surprising improvement
+on the harp, and regretted the loss of her lessons.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Hamilton had but a short time to stay; therefore, on
+the next morning after his arrival, the party turned their
+faces towards Woodcliff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-bye, dear aunt," sobbed Maddy; "I shall not
+soon forget the sweet lessons I have learned here; you
+will keep my secret, won't you, aunty?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You'll come to me, Maddy, should sorrow overtake
+you; Aunt Clara always has a warm corner at her
+hearthstone for her little niece."
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap09"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER IX,
+<br><br>
+HOME AGAIN.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+And so they drove off.  Arrived at Woodcliff, Maddy
+returned to her old pursuits and pleasures.  It was a happy
+little group that gathered that evening at the widow's
+cottage.  Madeline, anxious to take the promised picture,
+invited her cousins to accompany her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not I," answered Lavinia; "you must really excuse
+me; Lucy can do as she pleases, but I have no taste for
+such plebeian associates."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Every one to her taste," replied Maddy.  "Come, Lucy,
+let us go."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a warm welcome that was extended to them, and
+when Madeline handed her picture to Mrs. Bruce,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, my dear child," was the quick answer; "you
+could have brought me nothing which I shall so much value;
+it is such a perfect likeness."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am glad that you are pleased, Mrs. Bruce; and I am
+so happy to be at home again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have you had a pleasant visit, Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, indeed, I have learned such sweet lessons from
+my precious Aunt Clara; she is so good, and so happy.
+She lives religion, Mrs. Bruce; she does not talk it as some
+people do; but pray excuse me, and here is my cousin Lucy
+who has come down to stay with me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am glad to see her for your sake, Madeline; but here
+come Roland and Effie; how glad they will be!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'll just hide behind the door, don't tell;" and in a
+minute she had concealed herself, until the children were
+fully in the house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Suddenly springing out from her concealment, Effie
+could not restrain her joy, and folded Maddy in a heart-warm
+embrace, while Roland, with beaming eyes, extended
+both hands, and said, with deep emotion, "You are
+welcome, Maddy, back among us.  Woodcliff is nothing
+without you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline kept her young friends constantly busy going
+from place to place, and showing them all the amusements
+around the Hall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lucy was enchanted; for, being simple-hearted, nothing
+pleased her so much as the charming scenes of nature; but
+Lavinia's tastes were so much perverted, that green trees,
+shady lanes, quiet skies, and even the grand and glorious
+ocean, had no charms for her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One afternoon, the three girls, accompanied by Hector,
+took their accustomed walk to the sea-shore.  Madeline
+was in high spirits, and mounted the highest rock, leading
+her cousins after her; she skipped about from point to
+point, and at last clambered down the sides of the little
+cove, which was easily crossed at low tide.  In the
+excitement of their play, running races with Hector, they had
+rambled far up the beach, forgetting entirely the rising tide.
+Maddy, in her wild frolic, had taken off her shoes and
+stockings, and had amused herself by wading in the water.
+Evening was approaching, and when they returned, they
+found it impossible to cross; the tide had risen so high,
+that the cove was entirely impassable.  Madeline was now
+alarmed, for there was no other way of return but by the
+cove; fortunately, she had left her hat tied to the flag-staff,
+and with the quickness of thought she called Hector, and
+throwing a stick across the cove, sent him in search; he
+dashed through the water, and stood barking loud upon
+the other side, for he seemed to understand their
+danger&mdash;up and down he ran, then up to the top of the rock as if to
+search for some one; at last, he came bounding back, as
+if to tell good news; his bark was no longer one of alarm,
+it was one of joy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hector has found some one," said Madeline; "I know
+his ways, he does everything but talk."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lavinia began to wring her hands.  "What shall we
+do?  we can't stay here all night."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I should not like it much, Lavinia," replied Maddy;
+"but I think that somebody is coming."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In another minute, Roland appeared on the top of the
+rock.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't be alarmed; I'll bring help soon;" and, dashing
+through the water, he took Madeline in his arms, saying,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't be afraid, I can carry you; it is not far across,
+and nothing else can be done."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The water by this time had reached his armpits, but as
+Madeline kept quiet, he succeeded in landing her in safety
+on the other side.  It was not so easy to carry the others.
+Lucy was older and larger, but willing to be directed by
+Roland, she also crossed in safety; and Hector manifested
+his joy at each landing, by barking loudly and licking the
+hands of the young ladies, especially his pet Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Lavinia's folly had nearly cost her life; first by her
+ridiculous airs while the water was rising, then her fears
+about her delicate dress, then her squeamishness about
+allowing Roland to carry her.  At last, he had to say,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is not another minute to lose," and, seizing
+Lavinia without her consent, he commenced the crossing.
+The water was now above his shoulders; Lavinia writhed,
+and struggled, and screamed; Roland tried to pacify her,
+but in vain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I cannot hold you, miss, unless you are quiet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But it was all in vain&mdash;and in the struggle, Roland
+tripped in the water, and Lavinia fell from his arms; for a
+moment, she disappeared; Roland, too, in his efforts to
+reach her, was struggling under the water.  Hector sprang
+into the water, and in another minute, was carrying the
+silly girl to the shore.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline was in agony, her cheek pale as death, for
+Roland had not yet risen; in another second, her fears
+were relieved; he regained his feet, and soon reached the
+shore in safety.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lavinia was dreadfully frightened; her mouth filled with
+sea-water, and her clothes drenched with the bath.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How did you find us, Roland?" asked Maddy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hector's bark alarmed me; I traced you by your shoes
+on the rock, and your hat upon the flag-staff."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How can we thank you, Roland?" continued the child;
+"what should we have done without you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lucy too, returned her thanks; but Lavinia, in whose
+behalf he had incurred the most risk, coldly replied:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How could you let me drop, sir?  I have spoiled my
+handsome dress, and my new shoes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland did not answer; but Madeline replied with a
+flashing eye,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aren't you ashamed of yourself, Lavinia Raymond? when
+Roland really risked his life to save yours.  Have
+you no thanks?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thanks for what? spoiling my beautiful dress?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lavinia Raymond, you are a fool!  I have no patience
+with you!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, Maddy! don't talk so; think of dear Aunt Clara,"
+said Lucy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She makes me so mad, I can't help it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland, by this time, had disappeared, having gone to
+one of the cottages on the beach, and found that Lavinia
+could get dry clothes there.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was no time to be lost; the party hurried to the
+hut; Lavinia had to endure the mortification of being
+dressed in the clothes of the fisherman's daughter, and all
+the party to ride home in an old cart.  There was nothing
+else to be done, and by this time, our changing, impulsive
+Maddy had forgotten all her indignation towards Lavinia,
+and was in a perfect gale of merriment at the ludicrous
+figure which they made in the old ricketty cart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Really, Miss Raymond, no one would know you in
+this queer dress.  We would make a fine tableau, would
+we not, Lucy?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was some time before Madeline escaped again to the
+shore, for her father was really alarmed at the result of this
+dangerous excursion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy began to long for her harp lessons.  Having
+confided her secret to Aunt Matilda, they began to wonder
+how they should continue to go on without Mr. Hamilton's
+knowledge.  Most unexpectedly, an opportunity offered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What says my little daughter about parting with papa
+for a few months?" said Mr. Hamilton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, papa; where are you going?" replied the child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am called, suddenly, to Europe, and will be gone
+four or five months."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How can we do without you, papa?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The time will pass very rapidly, Maddy; you will still
+continue at school, and Mademoiselle will go on with the
+French lessons at home."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The next week Mr. Hamilton departed.  Aunt Matilda
+hired a harp from Boston, and engaged the same teacher
+to come twice a week to give lessons, as there was a
+railroad sufficiently near to make this practicable.  Madeline
+devoted herself most assiduously to her music lessons,
+for she was determined to surprise her father on his return.
+Her talent was remarkable, and progress accordingly rapid.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was so much occupied, that she saw but little of the
+Bruces, for during the stay of her cousins, her father
+had given her permission to stay from school.  Roland
+missed his little friend, and wondered what was keeping
+her so long away.  Still, occasionally he met her on her
+accustomed walks and rides, but always in company with
+her young friends, and a passing bow or smile was all that
+he received.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One autumn evening, however, in his rambles, Madeline
+suddenly stood before him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How do you do, Roland?" said the child, extending
+her hand, "it seems so long since we have had one of our
+pleasant chats."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How long will your friends stay, Maddy?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Some weeks longer, Roland, and I am so busy; do you
+know that I am taking harp lessons to surprise papa?  He
+will be gone some months yet, and when he returns I shall
+be able to play.  Would you like to hear me, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Madeline, if it were possible."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How did you spend your time when I was in Boston,
+Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I went regularly to Woodcliff every Saturday, and took
+advantage of Mr. Hamilton's permission to use his library,
+and all the leisure moments I had, I employed in reading;
+it was not much, but I used to sit up one hour later, and
+thus read a great deal."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What books did you choose, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The lives of wise and good men, Maddy, especially such
+as had to endure hardships in their youth; and I found that
+most of these great men had to struggle in their early years;
+and I found too, Maddy, that those who left the brightest
+mark in the world were believers in the blessed Bible;
+others made impressions while they lived, but they are
+almost forgotten now; but Christian philosophers and
+statesmen are those whom God honors."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How is it, Roland, that all your thoughts and words
+seem filled with the Bible?  Other boys are not like you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Because it was my daily food; rising up, and lying down,
+in the house, and by the wayside, it is, Maddy, our
+household book; and you need not wonder that all my life has
+been so constantly under the power of its heavenly truths."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I wish that I loved the Bible as you do, Roland; I
+have seen so much of its power at dear Aunt Clara's&mdash;she
+is such a lovely Christian; but I love to read other books
+so much better&mdash;will you come up next Saturday, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Maddy, I have a book to bring home&mdash;will you
+not let me hear some of your music then?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Certainly&mdash;I know two or three pretty pieces which I
+think you will like so much."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I must go now, Maddy, for my mother will want me;
+good-bye, get ready to come to school soon;" and with these
+words, Roland turned towards his home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Saturday came, and Madeline was tuning her harp at an
+early hour, in expectation of her young friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Roland arrived, she was practising one of her sweetest
+pieces, and calling him into the parlor, she played all
+that she knew, while Roland stood enchanted with the
+music that he had never heard before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have learned one hymn, Roland, for you, because I
+knew that you like sacred music;" and she sang with
+touching sweetness an evening hymn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lavinia Raymond was watching outside of the piazza
+the performance in the parlor, and as Roland passed out on
+his way home, the sneer with which she greeted him, was
+but a repetition of the insolence of other meetings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline, are you really such a dunce as to let yourself
+down to that beggar boy?" asked Lavinia, as she entered
+the house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Listen to me, Lavinia; the Bruces are my friends, poor
+as they are; I honor and love them all, and you shall not
+sneer at them when I am near&mdash;you are not worthy to
+mention even the name of a Bruce."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Quite theatrical, Madeline!&mdash;you would make an excellent
+actress; the flashing eye, the glowing cheek, the lofty
+head, and the proud step would very well suit a queen."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Be silent, Lavinia, I will not submit to your insolence;"
+and Madeline haughtily left the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a few minutes she entered, and extending her hand,
+said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lavinia, forgive me; I was very rude to a guest, but
+you provoked me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You may enjoy your friends for me, Madeline; but I
+must say that I am sorry to see you throwing your
+attentions away upon plebeians."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am not doing so, Lavinia; it makes me happy to do
+anything for people so good as they are, for I do believe
+that they are the real children of God.  I would that I
+were half so good."
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap10"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER X.
+<br><br>
+SUNSHINE AT THE HALL; SHADOWS AT THE COTTAGE.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+Morning, noon, and night, was Madeline inventing some
+new scheme of fun and frolic, never, however, neglecting
+her harp.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mademoiselle generally managed to get about half of her
+lessons; Aunt Matilda did not interfere, for Maddy had
+company, and could not be expected to study much.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You know, aunt, that it would be the height of impoliteness,
+and I could not expect the girls to take lessons; to
+be sure, Lucy does, as a matter of choice."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was sufficient, and Madeline's all-powerful
+arguments prevailed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Poor M'lle Fouladoux was often sorely tried, and Fanfan
+was her only comfort.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Occupied with her young friends, Madeline knew but
+little of the shadows gathering over her friends at the
+cottage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was all sunshine at Woodcliff; for thus far, Maddy's
+life had been all a bright summer day; but it would have
+been quickly dimmed, if the young heiress had known the
+sorrows that were threatening her humble friends.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Hamilton had formerly lived in the South, and
+having freed the servants who lived with him, he had
+brought his house-domestics to his Northern home.  They
+were strongly attached to their master's family, and
+Madeline, especially, was their idol.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nanny thought nothing could surpass her young mistress
+in beauty, or grace, or smartness, and many a cup of flattery
+was administered by this faithful, but foolish servant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Girls, I think that we shall have some rare sport this
+fall; Jim, the coachman, is quite smitten with our Nanny;
+they shall have a wedding, and I'll be mistress of the
+ceremonies.  You ought to see the darkies dance;" and
+Madeline mimicked to the life what she had often seen in the
+kitchen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will they be married here?" inquired Lavinia.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, indeed; they shall be married in our dining-room,
+and I'll dress Nanny's head myself."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline watched her opportunity, and questioned Nanny
+about the affair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lor' bless you, young missus, what put this ere in your
+head?  Jim is jest a perticelar friend."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, I know, Nanny; you need not try to deceive me,"
+answered the child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, Miss Maddy, what do you all think of Jim?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He's a clever fellow, Nanny, and we are all willing."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, then, Miss, I mout as well tell; we are gwan to
+be married in about a month."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You shall have a nice wedding, Nanny; I'll give you
+your wedding suit; you shall be married in the dining-room;
+get your bridesmaids and groomsmen, and you shall
+have a grand time, Nanny."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy was a busy little bee during the next month; the
+evening at length arrived, and the guests assembled in the
+dining-room waiting for the bride and groom.  Maddy had
+been superintending the bride's dress; but having
+completed that, with her cousins, joined the company in the
+parlor.  The minister stood waiting at the head of the
+room.  At length the bridesmaids and groomsmen appeared,
+then Nanny and the groom.  She was dressed in white,
+with low neck and short sleeves, and her head encircled by
+a wreath of large red roses.  The ceremony proceeded.
+When about half through, Jim, supposing it ended, turned
+to kiss his bride.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not yet," said the minister.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, well! so far, so good.  Go on, Massa."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the ceremony was ended, they took their seats
+among the congratulations of their numerous colored friends,
+and with the imitative quickness of their race, the manners
+of ladies and gentlemen were most amusingly copied in
+Mr. Hamilton's dining room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, Miss Nanny, you're quite brilliance to-night,"
+said one of the groomsmen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Who are you calling Miss Nanny, Bill?" said the other
+groomsman, tittering, "that is Miss Roberts now."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nanny hung her head bashfully, and, looking up at Jim,
+said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That name sounds mighty quar."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+About ten o'clock, a nice supper was announced in the
+servants' sitting room, and it was really amusing to our
+young folks, to see the airs with which the colored
+gentlemen handed out the belles to the supper table.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We're much obliged to you, Miss Madeline," said
+Jim, "for this party, for we know that you got it up for
+us."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hope that you will make Nanny a good husband, Jim,
+for she is a good girl.  I won't let you be cross to her."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After supper, a number of songs enlivened the evening,
+and a serenade at a late hour, in which four voices joined,
+wound up the affair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline had heard nothing of the Bruces for several
+weeks, excepting by a few casual words in the Sunday-school
+room, for Lucy and she still attended.  On the
+following Sunday morning, Maddy thought that Roland
+looked very sad, and Effie was not present.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is the matter, Roland?" asked the child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, Madeline! dear mother is so sick; she seems to be
+growing weaker every day."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't get disheartened, Roland; you know what you
+have often said to me, 'Look up for help.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, I know, Madeline; but the loss of my mother
+would be such a great calamity, that I cannot always look
+up.  Sometimes, I cannot trust the promises; then I get so
+weak, I can scarcely hold up my head."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am sorry, Roland.  Is there anything that I can do
+for her?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come and see her, Madeline, that would cheer her up."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have been detained by company, Roland, that is all
+the reason."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, I know that; we can't expect you to leave them
+often."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will come soon, Roland; I am so very sorry."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline kept her word, but her high spirits were
+suddenly saddened, when she saw the pale face and trembling
+hands of her kind friend.  Mrs. Bruce was sitting up
+endeavoring to sew, but the marks of languor were so
+apparent, that a chill settled around Maddy's heart, and she
+feared that Roland must soon lose this dear mother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are not well, Mrs. Bruce," said the child, as she
+took her friend's extended hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, my dear, flesh and heart are failing; but 'God is
+the strength of my heart, and my portion for
+evermore.'  While he is left, I am perfectly at peace."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline looked upon the placid face, and the sweet
+smile of trusting faith that lit the features of her friend,
+and thought how precious was that holy trust.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know now, Mrs. Bruce, what you mean by looking
+up; how happy you must be."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If I looked down upon myself, Maddy, with all my
+weakness and sin; or if I looked upon my dear children,
+who may soon be left motherless, my heart would sink;
+but when I look upward at the rest in store for those who
+love God, and at the sure promises to the children of the
+righteous, I can even rejoice in tribulation, because, my
+dear, they work patience, experience, and hope."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline glanced at Roland and Effie&mdash;the former was
+regarding his mother with a look of loving reverence, as
+though he partook of her lofty hope; but poor, delicate
+Effie sat with her head bowed upon her hands, and the
+big tears rolling down her sweet face.  Madeline drew the
+weeping child towards her, and, passing her arm around
+her, whispered,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't cry so, Effie; your mother may get better, and
+we will always be your friends."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know that, Madeline; but where shall I ever find
+another mother?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy returned with a saddened spirit, for with all her
+sanguine nature, she could not but fear that deep sorrow
+was settling around the cottage household.  Not a day
+passed, without some little delicacy from Woodcliff;
+sometimes by Madeline's own hand, or else sent by a servant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lucy frequently accompanied her cousin in her visits, but
+Lavinia never&mdash;she could not stoop to such a condescension.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In all her letters to her father, Maddy never forgot her
+humble friends, and, in return, Mr. Hamilton directed that
+every comfort should be supplied to the declining mother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After a few weeks, Mrs. Bruce appeared to rally once
+more, and hope revived the spirits of all who loved her.
+Madeline especially was greatly elated, and was sure that
+her dear friend was recovering.  With the revival of her
+hopes, her high spirits rose again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't be alarmed, Roland, your mother will soon recover,"
+and Maddy yielded to the delusion with full confidence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was now called to bear a heavy burden, for the
+support of the family fell chiefly upon him.  Busy in their
+little garden, he toiled with a cheerful spirit, and found his
+donkey and cart a great treasure, for now he could go into
+market three times a week with the produce of his little
+plot of ground.  It pained him sorely to leave school, but
+duty called, and the obedient spirit submitted.  The
+delicacies from the Hall kept his mother well supplied, and
+with the strong faith of a Gordon, he could labor, wait, and
+even rejoice.  The boy of seventeen, under the discipline
+of trial, and the teaching of a holy mother, seemed to have
+reached the maturity of riper years; and Mrs. Bruce felt
+that she might lean upon him with affectionate trust, as the
+instrument which God had chosen to cheer her declining
+days.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Autumn was now rapidly closing around them, and
+Madeline, with her elastic step and bird-like voice,
+frequently crossed the door-sill of the cottage, always lighting
+it up with her bright, hopeful face, and leaving behind her
+the sweet echoes of her own joyous nature.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Full of hope for her friends, her merry spirit kept the
+family all alive at the Hall.  Her young friends were to
+stay until Christmas, and Madeline promised them great
+sport should there be snow enough for a sleigh-ride.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Tony Willikins, her warm admirer at school, often stepped
+in at Woodcliff to pay his respects, and having seen
+Mademoiselle at church, and met her occasionally in her
+walks with Madeline, that prankish little girl had contrived
+to bring about quite an intimacy between the two.  Many
+a bouquet that was sent for Madeline was conveyed to
+Mademoiselle, with Tony's compliments; and Tony himself
+was often chagrined, on seeing the French teacher
+innocently wearing the flowers intended for the roguish
+child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Tony had somehow learned a few French phrases, and,
+much to the amusement of our young friends, he made a
+barbarous use of his slim stock of language, not at all
+aware of his false pronunciation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His salutation of "Maddymorthelle," always set our
+young friend in a titter; and his persevering efforts taxed
+Mademoiselle's French politeness to the utmost.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Poor Tony was a complete butt for Madeline and Lavinia,
+and many a joke did they play upon the unconscious youth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One afternoon, Tony paid them a visit in what he
+considered splendid costume.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had been told that small-clothes were to be the
+fashion that winter, so, to be ahead of all others, had
+ordered a new suit of clothes; and presented himself at
+Woodcliff in black tights, with black silk stockings, pumps,
+silver knee and shoe buckles, and, to crown all, a pair of
+blue glasses, which he had been told was becoming; he
+wore also a fancy-colored guard ribbon, and a diamond pin.
+Tony thought himself irresistible; and when Madeline
+entered the parlor, and saw the ludicrous figure, it was
+next to impossible to restrain her laughter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At that moment, fortunately, Fanfan performed some of
+her amusing pranks, which gave Maddy an opportunity of
+indulging her risible faculties, and if Tony had not been
+such a weak youth, he might have seen that the laugh
+continued much longer than Fanfan's oft-repeated tricks
+could call forth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mith Madeline, I want to thow you my new guard
+ribbonth," and Tony opened a package which contained
+every imaginable color.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Which do you think the prettieth, mith?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I like blue; that is my favorite color."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Immediately Tony changed his scarlet guard for a blue
+one; and, much to the amusement of the young girls, he
+continued,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Blue ith my color now."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Won't you sing, Tony?" asked Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yeth, if Maddymorthelle will play for me.  What
+shall I thing, mith?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'How can I leave thee!'" answered Madeline, with a
+merry twinkle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is tho affecting, mith; I am afraid that I can't
+get through it, but I'll try."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mademoiselle took her seat at the piano, and Tony commenced
+with a lisping, languishing tone to sing.  Madeline
+was convulsed with laughter; and Tony, who saw her
+handkerchief covering her face, thought that she was
+deeply affected, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We had better not finith the thong, Maddymorthelle;
+it affecth Mith Maddyth' nervth."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline could stand no more; jumping up, she ran out
+of the room to indulge her burst of laughter, which could
+no longer be restrained.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lucy did not sympathize with the jokes played upon
+Tony, for his weakness was his misfortune; and with her
+correct principles, she could no more ridicule that, than she
+could a blind, deaf, or lame man; but Madeline had not
+yet learned to ask about the right or wrong of an action,
+the impulses of the moment yet ruled the child.  Sometimes,
+the thought would cross her mind, that it might not
+be just right, but the love of fun prevailed over her light
+scruples.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The cold increased, and one morning, Madeline ran into
+Lavinia's room, saying,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Get up, Lavinia, here is a grand snow-storm!  Now
+for our promised ride."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They watched the progress of the storm anxiously; all
+day and night it continued, and by the next morning, the
+sleighs began to fly around the neighborhood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At that moment, a sleigh stopped, and Tony, dismounting,
+invited the young ladies to take a ride.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will call about four o'clock, and we will ride up to the
+White Houth, take thupper, and return by moonlight."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy ran to her aunt to obtain her consent, which was
+given on condition that she should make one of the party.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Accordingly, at the appointed hour, furred, tippeted, and
+well protected from the cold, our party set off in high glee.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You can manage those spirited horses, I hope, Tony?"
+said Aunt Matilda.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't be afraid, ma'am; I have driven them many a
+mile, and never had an acthident yet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ride was splendid, Madeline in wild spirits, and the
+whole party affected by her merry sallies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Arrived at the White House, Tony ordered a supper, and,
+after a lively dance in one of the parlors, in which all
+joined but Lucy, they sat down to a nice supper, and then
+started for home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a number of sleighs on the road, all travelling
+at full speed; Tony's animals were not to be passed.  A
+large sleigh came dashing by.  Tony tried to check the
+wild animals, but all in vain&mdash;on they rushed.  Miss
+Matilda was in an agony of terror.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Utterly unable to manage them, they galloped on madly,
+till, bringing up on a snow-bank, they upset the party on
+the road-side, and raced furiously on, until overtaken by
+several men, who came to the rescue, and, after some time,
+succeeded in quieting the excited horses.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Miss Matilda was in a state of dreadful alarm; Mademoiselle
+Fouladoux deploring the condition of little Fanfan,
+who had accompanied the party; Madeline laughing at the
+adventure; Lavinia provoked; and Lucy quietly awaiting
+the return of Tony.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the youth at length appeared, Mademoiselle threw
+up her hands, exclaiming, piteously,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, Monsieur Willikins! take us home; ma pauvre
+Fanfan will take a dreadful cold."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Tony wrapped the dog up in his foot muff, and proceeded
+home as rapidly as they could go with safety.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We have had a jolly time, Mademoiselle," exclaimed
+Madeline.  "I think the upset was the best part; none of
+us were hurt, and it was only a good joke after all."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Little did Maddy know of the sorrow that was wringing
+the young hearts at the cottage.  Not having heard for
+several days, the next morning Madeline started to see her
+friends.  On entering the house, no one was visible; all
+was quiet, and she proceeded up stairs to the widow's
+chamber.  Propped up with pillows, with a face as pale as
+the white sheet, and laboring for breath, she beheld her
+humble friend.  Effie was sitting on one side of the bed,
+close to her mother, and Roland was reading the Bible to
+his declining parent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Let not your heart be troubled; ye believe in God,
+believe also in me; in my Father's house are many
+mansions.'"  He stopped for one moment, but Madeline said,
+"Go on, Roland;" and, with his own rich voice, he
+proceeded to repeat a Psalm, "'I will lift up mine eyes unto
+the hills from whence cometh my help.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My help cometh even from the Lord, who hath made
+heaven and earth," responded the mother, with uplifted
+eyes and hands clasped over her panting breast.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come here, Madeline, my dear child," said the fading
+Christian; "you see that it will not be long before I shall
+go home, and be no more seen; but remember what I tell
+you, that God is a sufficient refuge in this hour of trial, and
+the Saviour of sinners my all in all!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can you look up still, dear Mrs. Bruce?" asked Madeline,
+with deep solemnity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, my dear child; I know that he that keepeth Israel
+shall neither slumber nor sleep.  'He will not suffer the
+sun to smite thee by day, nor the moon by night,' that is
+the promise, Maddy, and I believe it with all my heart;
+'his rod and his staff they comfort me.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will get better yet, Mrs. Bruce, I am sure," answered
+the child, "for I know that Roland and Effie pray
+for you, and God has promised to answer prayer."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, he will answer us, when we ask with submission
+to his will; his will now is made clear and plain, my days
+on earth are drawing swiftly to a close.  I am ready and
+willing to depart and be with Jesus, which is far better
+than to stay here; but to leave my darlings, Maddy, is a
+sore trial.  You will not forget them, dear, when I am
+gone."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Forget your children!  Never!  I know none that I
+love so well; and so long as I live, they will find me, little
+Madeline, their true friend."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Bless you! my dear child, for those kind words; they
+cheer my heart.  I look upon them as an answer to my
+prayer; for this morning there was an hour of darkness,
+when I thought of them, especially of Effie; but now I can
+keep my eyes fixed upon Heaven, and bid adieu forever to
+earthly cares."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Effie was weeping bitterly, her mother turned her face
+towards her and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do not distrust our Heavenly Father, my child; he
+will comfort and sustain you; he has sent this dear little
+friend to us in our hour of sorrow."  Turning to Madeline,
+she continued, "Tell your father, Maddy, that we shall
+never forget his kindness; for weeks your family physician
+has been attending me, sent by your father; he has done
+all that he can, but vain is the help of man."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline was deeply impressed by the lesson of that
+solemn hour, for she had never been so near the presence
+of death before.  From that hour, she spared no pains to
+administer to the comfort of her precious friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Betty, the old cook, was a kind-hearted woman, and
+daily prepared some little delicacy grateful to the invalid,
+which Madeline and Lucy took with their own hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Deep was the sorrow settling down upon the heart of
+Roland Bruce; for his mother was parent, friend, guide&mdash;his
+only earthly stay.  When he looked into the wilderness
+of life without his mother, it did indeed seem a desolate,
+dreary waste.  He sat looking upon the pale face regarding
+him with such a look of unutterable love.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Roland, come sit by me; I have much to say to you
+while I have strength to speak."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He arose and seated himself close by his mother's side.
+"You are seventeen now, my son, with almost the character
+of a man; and, blessed be God!  I believe that you
+are his dear child."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland took his mother's hand, and while tears rained
+over it, he replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To you, dear mother, under God, I owe all that I am.
+I can never forget the lessons of wisdom, truth, trust in
+God, and heroic endurance that you have taught me by
+examples from the Bible, from the world, and especially from
+our own honored race."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You must never forget your lineage, Roland; you are
+not descended from those who derive their greatness from
+outward show, magnificent adornment, or the pomp and
+equipage of courts.  Your ancestors were trained in the
+humble manse, in the lowly cottage, among the rude mountains
+of Scotland, and their grandeur was moral only.  They
+were born in the days when to be a spiritual Christian was
+to hold life very cheap&mdash;the spirit of those days has always
+distinguished our race, for in every generation, there has
+been a witness for God among the Gordons."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have never forgotten it, mother," answered Roland.
+"I think it is that which makes me think so little of the
+pomp of this world.  I have never felt at all impressed by
+what I have seen at Woodcliff, because I contrast it all
+with the humble tomb-stone in that Scottish glen, and with
+all else that you have told me of the name of Gordon."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I believe, my son, that God destines you for something
+good and great.  Roland, remember what I mean by great;
+not rich or grand in earthly goods, or even in intellectual
+culture merely, but great in deeds of benefit to your race;
+in order to reach that point, spare no pains to obtain a good
+education."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How shall I, mother? it is what I long for; but I have
+no money, no means, no influence.  I am all alone."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where there is a will, there is a way, Roland.  I do
+not wish you to have money or influential friends; I want
+you to have trust in God; this is the motto I leave with
+you, my son, 'Looking aloft;' remember it is your dying
+mother's motto; when discouraged, turn to that, and I am
+sure that you will prosper."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, mother! how shall I live without you? your voice
+is like a trumpet to me; it stirs the very depths of my soul;
+and when you speak, it seems as if I could dare anything.
+I never shall forget my feelings when you bade me read
+the inscription on the tomb-stone of our martyred ancestors;
+my soul seemed to take a great leap, and really to swell
+within my childish form.  I felt as if I never could be low,
+or mean, or grovelling after that, and so I feel to-day; but
+what will it be when you are gone?" and Roland bowed
+his head and wept.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She laid her hand upon his head and said: "When I am
+gone, Roland, these memories will be with you, I know, 'to
+keep your soul from blight.'  I have perfect confidence that
+God will keep his promise to me, and to you; he will guide
+you, I am sure; and though you may have sore trials, he
+will sustain my Roland, and make him a blessing to the
+world&mdash;too many twilight hours of consecration, too many
+seasons of dedication has my Father witnessed when
+Roland's name was itself a prayer, to allow one moment's
+doubt&mdash;not one of those sacred hours will ever be forgotten
+by our covenant-keeping God."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ob, what I am losing in you, my mother!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is God's will, my son; perhaps by cutting you loose
+from all earthly dependence, he designs to cast you wholly
+upon himself&mdash;this is the way that you are to learn the
+blessedness of 'looking aloft.'  Think what others have
+done who have risen from the humblest walks of life, and
+do likewise; only let all be done for the glory of God, not
+for your own exaltation, Roland.  If it is ever in your
+power, I wish you to visit your home in Scotland; you
+have an aunt and cousin living there; there is some property
+also, and I think that it will be to your advantage to
+seek out your relations.  There is an old friend of mine
+whom I should like you to see, Malcolm Graham; he would
+be a valuable friend.  Above all things, get a good
+education; stop at no sacrifice; shrink from no labor."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland listened to his mother's words as though it were
+a voice from Heaven, and to him it was; for the message
+of that hour guided all his earthly destiny.  He rose with
+reverence; his feelings were too deep for utterance;
+pressing a kiss on either cheek, and on the calm pale forehead,
+he left the room, and bowed by his bed-side, poured out his
+young soul in fervent prayer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What has been done, by the blessing of God, shall be
+done again," said Roland to himself&mdash;"'looking aloft,'
+trusting in God, I can do all things."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The resolution of that silent hour was sublime; it was
+known to none but God; but doubtless a record was
+entered in the book of God's remembrance which was never
+blotted out, never revoked; and the name of Roland Bruce
+was seen by angels signed to that recorded dedication, and
+sealed by the precious blood of the Redeemer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From that day, the setting of life's sun to Mrs. Bruce was
+slow, sure, but glorious.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"One more charge, Roland," said the mother, after an
+hour's converse; "be faithful to Effie; I need scarcely tell
+you that; but she is a delicate flower, and must be tenderly
+cherished, Roland; and after I am gone, in my top drawer,
+tied with a black ribbon, you will see a package; it is for
+you, Roland: I can trust you with your mother's history."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Elsie Gibson had been absent for months from the
+neighborhood, but one evening suddenly she appeared at the
+cottage.  She seemed much agitated on hearing how ill
+Mrs. Bruce was, and asked to see her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Conducted to the dying chamber, and standing by the
+bedside, she took the pale withered hand that lay upon the
+bed-clothes, and said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mary Bruce, this is a solemn hour; I trust that you are
+at peace with God."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Blessed be my Saviour's name!  I am; I have no fears
+for the future, no anxiety for the present; death is
+swallowed up in victory."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is there any message that you would send to any of
+your Scotch friends, Mary?  I may go to Scotland ere long.
+Is there anything upon your mind, Mary?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is no one near, Elsie, is there?" anxiously
+inquired the invalid.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is no one, Mary; we are all alone."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If you ever see my brother or any of my relations, give
+my love, and tell them how happy were my dying moments&mdash;and
+now, Elsie, you knew my husband in former days&mdash;do
+you know that sometimes I have felt that he was not
+dead.  He was so singular, sometimes I thought he was
+deranged; he became so gloomy in latter years, that I have
+thought perhaps he is not dead; we never heard of it
+certainly, and then the supplies which I received so long must
+have come from him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If he were alive, would you send him any message?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I should like to tell him that I freely forgive any
+unkindness which he showed to me.  He had sore trials to
+rend his heart, and so had I, Elsie.  If he is alive, and has
+forsaken his family, I forgive him that too; because, if he
+is, I believe that it was done in an hour of great depression,
+perhaps insanity."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Elsie listened earnestly to these words; a faint smile
+passed over her face, as she replied:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I ken something o' your story, Mary; it was a sad one;
+very much like the song o' 'Auld Robin Gray;' but your
+sorrows are amaist owre, Mary; and on the ither side, a'
+will be plain and clear."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A few more days, and the ministering angel called for the
+faithful mother, and bore her peacefully, happily, over the
+swellings of Jordan, to the bosom of the Redeemer whom
+she loved.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland stood in the presence of the dead with solemn,
+tender dignity; for he felt that no common loss was his in
+parting with such a friend and counsellor in life's trials and
+sorrows; but his hopes of reunion were so strong, so bright,
+that time appeared but as a little span, at the end of which
+he should again meet the spirit of that sainted parent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Effie was not so strong&mdash;poor, timid, loving child!  It
+seemed to her as if life would weep itself away in the first
+burst of anguish that filled the chamber of the dead.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Matilda undertook the expenses of the widow's
+funeral, and the family at the Hall joined the humble
+procession.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Elsie Gibson was a sincere mourner, and made many
+mysterious remarks which none could explain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+About a week after the funeral, Roland and Effie bent
+their steps to the village grave-yard.  When they came in
+sight of the grave, what was their surprise! to see Elsie
+and a man wrapped up in a heavy cloak, in earnest
+conversation.  He stood with his handkerchief to his face, as
+though deeply affected; but as soon as Elsie perceived the
+approach of the two, she hurried away with her mysterious
+companion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were both surprised, and wondered who it could be
+thus interested in their mother.  They were paying their
+last visit ere disposing of the furniture at the cottage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Matilda had offered Effie a home, where she was
+to make herself useful with her needle.  Roland was
+preparing to obey his mother's request of seeking an
+education.  All was ready for his departure, and Madeline sent
+for him to come up to the cemetery in the evening.  When
+reaching his mother's grave, there sat Madeline on the
+humble mound, at the head of which was placed a simple
+head-stone of white marble, with his mother's name and
+age inscribed, with the sweet words, "Asleep in Jesus."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is this your work, Madeline?" asked the boy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Roland; it was the last thing that I could do for
+you; you have been a faithful friend to me, and it is a small
+return."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I cannot tell you, Madeline, how grateful I am for this
+act of kindness; it was a trial to me to think that my
+mother must lie in the grave without any sign to mark the
+place of her burial."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When do you leave us, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Just as soon as my little stock at the cottage is disposed
+of; it is of very little value, but after all our debts are paid,
+what is left is for Effie, I can take care of myself.  I shall
+be all alone in the great world, Maddy, but it will be a
+comfort to know that you, my little friend, will not forget
+me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline's eyes filled with tears.  "That cannot be,
+Roland; all that I know of anything that is good and holy
+began with you; when I first knew you, I scarcely knew
+the difference between right and wrong."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is one thing I want you to promise, Maddy, and
+that is to read your Bible morning and evening, praying
+for God to help you to understand what you read."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is a small request, Roland, and I promise that I
+will let nothing interfere with the duty."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"May our Father bless you, Maddy, and have you always
+in his holy keeping.  I shall never cease to pray for
+you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where are you going, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To college, Maddy, where I hope to gain a classical
+education.  My mother charged me to strive for that, and
+with my eyes fixed upon heaven, I hope to succeed."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have you any money, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The boy smiled as he replied, "In the bank of Heaven,
+Maddy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What do you mean by that, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I mean that there are promises made to God's children&mdash;dear
+mother has always told me that God's word can
+never fail&mdash;so his bank can never break, Maddy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall miss you, Roland, when my naughty fits
+come.  I shall want you to show me how to conquer
+myself."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You must not lean on any human arm; there is one
+strong arm, Maddy; the one that conquered sin, Satan and
+death."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is Jesus, Roland.  I wish that my faith in him
+was just like yours."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Pray, Maddy, that he would give you faith; he is the
+author and finisher of our faith.  Do you remember any of
+the little songs that I have taught you, Maddy?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Roland, I remember them all; I shall get the
+music, and learn them perfectly now."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Let us sing together our last song, Maddy," and Roland's
+rich voice, with Madeline's sweet, clear notes, joined
+in the dear old song,
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "Should auld acquaintance be forgot,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And never brought to mind?<br>
+  Should auld acquaintance be forgot,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In days o' lang syne!<br>
+  For auld lang syne, my Jo,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;For auld lang syne;<br>
+  We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;For auld lang syne."<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>
+Maddy's voice trembled, and ere they reached the last
+verse she bowed her head and wept.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland put his hand in his pocket, and drew out the
+likeness which Madeline had brought from Boston for his
+mother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here is the face of my kind little friend," said the boy,
+"I shall often talk to it when far away."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have nothing but the sea-weed and the shells to look
+at, Roland; but in my heart the memory of all the wise
+and precious things which you have taught me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is time for me to go now, Maddy.  Good-bye; I am
+sure that we shall meet again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline looked up with such a bright smile through her
+tears, and said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Remember, Roland, what I have always said, that you
+will come back to Woodcliff a great man; and I shall be
+so glad to see the upstarts around us bowing down to
+Roland Gordon Bruce, the son of poor widow Bruce.
+Good-bye, Roland; I shall never forget the lessons of Maple
+Lane School, or the happy days that we have spent
+together."  Giving her hand to Roland, they exchanged a
+parting clasp, and Madeline turned to leave the cemetery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland sat down upon his mother's grave, and watched
+the childish form until she was seen no more; then, bowing
+his head upon his hands, he could no longer restrain the
+silent tears that would chase each other down his cheeks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thus fade my earthly friends," sighed the boy; "first
+my mother, then Madeline, this precious little friend, then
+Effie, my darling sister, next, and I shall be alone&mdash;a waif
+upon the wide, wide world; but no, not a waif while God
+lives and my Saviour reigns, for, blessed be his name!  I
+can trust him still."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The little stock at the cottage was soon disposed of, and
+after all their mother's debts were paid, nothing remained
+but a few dollars, which Effie insisted Roland should take
+with him in his first encounter with the world.  Effie was
+comfortably settled at Woodcliff, Roland stayed at old
+Peter's cabin a day or two, and Lucy and Lavinia had
+returned to Boston.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A letter from papa, dear aunt," exclaimed Maddy; "he
+is in New York, and will be here to-night," and she was
+nearly wild with delight.  "Won't I surprise him with a
+morning serenade on my harp!" and she had it brought
+into the room adjoining her father's, that she might awake
+him in the morning with her music.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was no more composure for Madeline during the
+whole of that day&mdash;busy in her father's chamber, and in
+the library to see that all was prepared for his comfort,
+adding, as the last touch, some sweet flowers for both
+rooms.  Madeline tried to settle herself to some employment,
+but all in vain, until she uncovered her harp; practising
+some of her best pieces, she spent the rest of the
+morning in preparing for her serenade.  Evening at length
+arrived, and with it her dear father.  Folded once more in
+his arms, Madeline was perfectly happy for the moments
+following his arrival.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The evening was spent in showing the beautiful things
+that Mr. Hamilton had brought for Madeline and her aunt;
+nor was Effie forgotten by the kind man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Something will arrive to-morrow, Maddy, that I could
+not bring with me, on account of its bulk; I know that it
+will please you best of all."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Handsome dresses, laces, gloves, and jewelry were
+lavished upon the idolized child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Hamilton was a happy man, once more seated in
+the midst of his family&mdash;fatigued, he retired early to rest;
+and, rising early in the morning, stood at his window to
+enjoy the beauty of a magnificent sunrise.  While quietly
+looking upon the scene, he thought that he heard the sound
+of very low, sweet music; for a moment, it ceased; and he
+thought that he must have been mistaken; but again it
+swelled out in deep rich chords of melody, accompanied by
+a charming voice&mdash;it seemed very near, certainly in the
+next room.  Opening the door, what was his surprise to
+see Madeline, in her night-dress, seated at a harp,
+performing most delightfully, and singing a song of welcome for
+her father.  He listened in delighted silence until the close,
+then exclaimed,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, my daughter! what does all this mean?  How
+in the world did you accomplish all this without my
+knowledge?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It was commenced in Boston, papa; and during your
+absence, I have applied myself diligently, determined to
+surprise you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, truly!  I think that the fairies must have been
+very busy, Maddy, both with you and me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why with you, dear papa?  Have you been learning
+too, without my knowledge?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will know to-day what I mean, dear; but really,
+you could have done nothing that could have pleased me
+better, than this pleasant surprise."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Hamilton seemed to be very frequently at the front
+door, watching evidently for an arrival; at length,
+Madeline's curiosity to know what was coming, was about to be
+satisfied, for a wagon turned into the avenue, bringing a
+very large and singularly-shaped packing-box.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was brought into the house and soon opened, when,
+to Madeline's surprise, an elegant French harp appeared.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Throwing her arms around her father's neck she exclaimed,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, dear, dear, papa; this is just what I wanted!
+How in the world did you know it?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Did I not tell you, Maddy, that the fairies must have
+been very busy?  But, candidly, I have always intended
+that you should study my favorite instrument, and have
+brought you one of the finest that I could obtain in Paris."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is it not delightful that I have been taking lessons,
+papa?  Now I can send away the old harp, and have my
+own."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For some weeks, Madeline was busily occupied with her
+beautiful instrument; but Mr. Hamilton was obliged to
+yield at last to the conviction, that he must part for a
+few years with his darling child, if she was ever to be
+properly educated for the sphere in which she was
+destined to move, for, under the weak guidance of Aunt
+Matilda, that could never be.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as he could obtain the co-operation of good
+Aunt Clara, a suitable boarding-school was solicited, and,
+after due preparation, Madeline was sent from home, to
+remain until her education should be completed.  It was a
+sore trial to both parent and child, and the parting nearly
+overcame the resolution of the father, who could scarcely
+endure the loneliness of Woodcliff without his darling.
+Poor Effie would also be very lonely, but Aunt Matilda
+was really kind at heart, and imposed nothing upon the
+young girl, but what she was fully competent to perform.
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap11"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XI.
+<br><br>
+A MOTHER'S LIFE SORROW.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+Madeline had been gone for some days, and Roland
+had nearly completed his arrangements.  He saw much of
+Effie, for the few remaining hours were precious to both.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Effie, meet me this evening in the cemetery, I wish to
+read you our mother's manuscripts."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Effie promised.  The last evening had arrived, and the
+orphans met upon their mother's grave, for the sad
+farewell.  Roland untied the black ribbon, and commenced
+reading:&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When you read these lines, my dear children, my
+mortal remains will be sleeping in the quiet grave, but I
+myself shall be with Jesus, and that is enough of bliss for
+an immortal spirit.  I have thought it wise to make you
+acquainted with the history of my early life.  You know
+that my father was the minister of the parish where I was
+born.  He was a wise and holy man, and gave me all the
+advantages of a good education.  My mother died when I
+was young, but my Aunt Ellen, my father's sister, came to
+take charge of the manse, and to bring up the motherless
+children.  She was an excellent woman, and faithfully
+performed the part of a mother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I had a cousin, named Malcolm Graham, to whom I
+had been most tenderly attached from my earliest
+childhood.  We had roamed our native mountains, and sailed
+upon our Scottish lakes together; we had walked from
+earliest days to the house of God in company, had sang
+from the same hymn-book, and had joined the church on the
+same day.  We sang the same Scottish songs, loved the
+same wild stories of our martyred ancestors.  In fine, we
+were as one soul; no love was ever purer, holier, deeper
+than that which filled our young hearts for each other.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My father and my aunt were blinded; they had been so
+accustomed to look upon us as brother and sister, that
+nothing could have surprised my father more, than when
+Malcolm came to ask that the current of our lives might
+henceforth flow in one calm, holy channel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'It canna' be, Malcolm; you are owre near akin; I
+could na' ask the Master's blessing upon sic a union.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Oh, Uncle Gordon, ye canna' break your Mary's
+heart, by sic an answer?'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Why did I na' ken this before?  I might ha' seen it a'.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Malcolm pleaded his cause earnestly; my father loved
+us both tenderly.  At the end of a week, he gave his
+unwilling consent, on the ground that, as he had blindly
+allowed the intimacy, he had not the heart to say nay, and
+we were betrothed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At the same time, Stephen Bruce, the son of my father's
+most intimate friend, renewed his addresses, for since I
+had grown to early womanhood, he had twice a-year,
+offered his hand, and been refused.  This was the man that
+my father favored.  He was a reserved and rather gloomy
+man, but his love for me was an all-absorbing passion.
+He had a good moral character, was well off in the world,
+and moreover, was the son of my father's bosom friend.
+Malcolm was poor in the possessions of the world, but
+rich in all that could ennoble and dignify a man.  There
+was but little prospect of his rising in the world, in an
+obscure part of Scotland.  An opportunity offered for him
+to enter upon a lucrative situation in China; he accepted;
+my heart sank within me, for I felt that a wide ocean
+would soon separate us, and I feared that I should never
+see the face of Malcolm Graham again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My father encouraged the step.  I could see the secret
+joy of Stephen Bruce, and I felt as if I could never
+consent.  But Malcolm was young and hopeful; he saw at
+the end of his long exile, a sweet happy home among our
+native mountains, where we should share life's joys and
+sorrows; and, at last, I became reconciled to the thought.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We parted at the sweet trysting place where we had so
+often met in the happy days of our young affection.  On
+the banks of the lake, near our quiet home, stood a clump
+of old trees, whose branches dipped gracefully in the placid
+water.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thither we walked slowly to spend our last sad hours.
+I wore the light blue snood of a Scottish maiden, which
+somewhat confined my curls.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Shall I hae one, Mary?' asked my cousin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I cut one from my head, and tied it with a piece of the
+blue ribbon of my snood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Malcolm placed it in a little pocket-book, and laid it
+away in his bosom.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"After hours of silent weeping, he bade me farewell, and
+I felt as if a load of lead sank down into my heart, as I
+watched his retreating form until he vanished from my
+sight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For two years, letters came regularly; all bright,
+encouraging, hopeful; he was fast acquiring a fortune, and would
+return in another year.  In the meanwhile, Stephen Bruce
+increased his assiduities; I could not banish him from the
+house, because he was the son of my father's friend.  In
+another year, a letter announced that Malcolm would sail
+in the ship Neptune for Liverpool, and that I might expect
+him in October, when I must be ready to fulfil my vow.  I
+was a happy creature then; all the intervening time was
+passed in making my simple preparations.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunt Ellen was a thrifty housekeeper, and took great
+pride in the quantity of bed and table-linen which her niece
+must have.  I was occupied chiefly with my wardrobe.  My
+father did not seem much rejoiced, for he had never given
+up his Scotch prejudice against the marriage of first cousins;
+but he was a man of too much integrity to break a given
+promise.  The summer passed, the falling leaves were
+musical to me, for they brought October; the month passed, but
+no news of the Neptune.  November passed in the same
+manner.  December began to drag its cold and dreary days
+along, but still no news.  At length, one morning, my father
+entered the family parlor with a grave countenance, and a
+newspaper in his hand.  'Ellen, will you come into my
+study?' said my father to my aunt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My heart gave a sudden bound; for I had long been so
+anxious, that even the fluttering of a leaf would affect me.
+I saw my father's face; it was ominous.  Aunt Ellen
+returned, and sitting down by my side, she said, tenderly,
+'Mary, can ye bear bad news?'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'What is it, Aunt Ellen?' I replied, starting to my feet;
+'tell me, tell all; anything is better than suspense.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She laid her hand upon my young head, and softly
+smoothed the rippling hair that lay upon my forehead and
+down my temples.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'The Neptune has foundered at sea, Mary, and Malcolm
+Graham is among the missing.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I heard no more; for hours I lay stunned and insensible;
+for weeks, between life and death.  At length, a good
+constitution, under the direction of a wise but inscrutable
+Providence, triumphed, and I awoke to take up the duties
+of my daily life with a sad and chastened spirit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My father redoubled his kindness; but it was evident
+that Malcolm's removal was a relief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The only request I made was: 'Do not allow Stephen
+Bruce to visit the manse; I could not bear it.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My request was complied with.  During all this time, I
+never wholly lost my hope; I would say to myself: 'Among
+the missing, not the lost; Malcolm may yet be alive.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Two years of silent sorrow passed&mdash;the light of my life
+had gone out.  I busied myself about my father's house,
+my brother's clothes, and in the duties belonging to me, as
+the minister's daughter; but joy had passed away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I seldom saw Stephen Bruce, excepting at church; but I
+knew that my father visited him.  Occasionally I met him
+by the road-side, but he never joined me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This delicacy of conduct gained my respect; and when
+my father at last requested, for his own sake, that the son
+of his old friend might visit him, I consented; for my father
+had been very kind to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He came occasionally, was always polite and respectful
+to me, nothing more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At the close of the third year, after Malcolm's loss, my
+father called me to him, and said: 'My daughter, I hae
+tried to be considerate and kind to ye; I hae placed nae
+compulsion upon your inclinations; now, I hae ane request to
+make; will ye not allow Stephen to renew his addresses?
+He is just as devoted to you as ever; he has luved ye
+faithfully for ten years, ever since yer childish days.  If
+his devotion and worth can na overcome yer repugnance,
+or rather indifference, I hae nae mair to say; but it would
+please yer father if ye would allow him to renew his visits
+to ye personally.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Give me a week to think of it, father; that is all I ask.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At the end of that time, I agreed to my father's proposal.
+I felt that all my love was in the deep ocean buried with
+Malcolm Graham, and that duty must henceforth rule my
+life; to please my father only, I consented.  Stephen was
+very considerate, but I saw that the same devotion filled
+his heart.  He was so anxious to please, so humble, so
+undemonstrative, that I could not but pity him.  I treated
+him with kindness, and sometimes even with tenderness;
+then he was so grateful for the smallest act, that it touched
+my woman's heart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At last, when in trembling tones he ventured once more
+to urge his suit, I did not discourage him; I simply told
+him to wait.
+"'Bless ye, Mary! e'en for that,' was the grateful answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At the close of the fourth year, I consented to become
+his wife.  He wept in the fulness of his joy, and my father
+was happy; but the name of Malcolm Graham could never
+be mentioned in his presence.  If by chance it was, dark
+frowns would lower on his brow, and it was at all times a
+forbidden subject.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He was a kind husband, and I tried to be a faithful wife;
+but in the twilight gloaming there were times when the
+memory of my cousin poured over my heart like a flood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The next year after our marriage, you were sent, Roland,
+to form a new tie between us.  You were a lovely babe,
+and your mother was proud of the sweet infant that smiled
+upon her from his cradle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Stephen Bruce was a handsome man, Roland, and you
+were like him; the same profusion of dark hair, the same
+dark eyes; but there was always about you, Roland, an
+open frankness, that never characterized your father.  He
+was constitutionally reserved and taciturn, often gloomy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Our married life flowed smoothly along for two years.
+We lived at the manse; for my father could not part from
+his only daughter.  He was very fond of little Roland, and
+the presence of a baby in the house was a sunbeam across
+his path.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"One very stormy winter evening, I was rocking my little
+boy to sleep, singing some sweet cradle-song.  The wind
+howled fearfully without, and the snow came down in heavy
+drifts.  I heard a footstep on the little porch in front of the
+manse; it seemed to be a man knocking off the snow before
+entering.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The family dog gave a familiar bark of joy, and a voice
+that I thought drowned in the deep ocean said: 'Down,
+Shep! down, sir.'  My heart stood still.  The next
+moment, the door opened, and Malcolm Graham stood before
+me.  He extended his arms.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Mary!  Mary!' he cried, 'hae ye na welcome?'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I started to my feet; I am sure that my eyes must have
+glared with terror.  I sank upon the chair by the side of
+the cradle, and pressing my hand upon my heart, continued
+gazing.  I was speechless with terror and grief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'What is in that cradle, Mary?'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'It is my child, my babe, Malcolm.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Tell me its name, Mary Gordon.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Roland Gordon Bruce,' I answered, in trembling tones.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He struck his head with both his hands in anguish&mdash;'Hae
+I come home for this?  Oh, Mary! how could ye
+sae forget me?'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'I thought you dead, Malcolm; and by this marriage, I
+have made my father happy.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Look here, Mary!' said the wretched man.  Opening
+his vest, he took out an old worn pocket-book, from which
+he drew the lock of golden hair, tied with the faded ribbon
+of the maiden's snood, that I gave him on the night of our
+parting.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'I hae never parted with it, Mary, and it shall go wi' me
+to my grave.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was near fainting; no words can paint the anguish of
+that hour.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Go, Malcolm, go; you must not be seen here.  I cannot
+even shelter you from the storm.  I can pray for you,
+Malcolm, but we must meet no more.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My cousin advanced&mdash;before I could prevent it, he
+clasped me to his bosom, pressed one last kiss upon my icy
+forehead, and in another minute was gone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Alas! alas! just as he passed out, my husband entered.
+He knew him&mdash;it was Malcolm Graham, the one whom he
+had always feared as his rival in the affections of the one
+he loved.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'How dare he enter this house?' was the first salutation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'He thought that I lived here yet as Mary Gordon,
+husband.  You have no reason to fear either him or her whom
+you call by the sacred name of wife.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He was pale with anger; fire shot from his dark eyes.  I
+was terrified.  I walked up to Stephen Bruce, and laid my
+hand upon his arm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Stephen, am I not your wedded wife? wedded in the
+sight of Heaven! do you think that I, Mary Gordon, the
+descendant of heroic martyrs, can ever forget her plighted
+faith, plighted before God's holy altar?'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'No, Mary, you will not forget your duty as a wife; but
+your heart is wi' Malcolm Graham, your early luve.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Stephen, Malcolm is dead to me&mdash;we shall never meet
+again.  I do not wish him to cross our path.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"From that hour our domestic peace was at an end.  The
+family malady had certainly made its appearance in the case
+of my unhappy husband.  I was kind, affectionate, attentive
+to all his wants.  I hushed the voice of memory, and
+learned to be even cheerful in the performance of daily duties.
+I looked upward daily, hourly, Roland, and I was sustained
+in my hour of trial.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I begged my father to see Malcolm, and tell him to keep
+out of my husband's way.  He explained all to the
+unhappy man, and related his sad story.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He had been wrecked, taken prisoner, and landed in
+Algiers, without the possibility of communicating one line to
+his friends.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In company with six others, after an absence of seven
+years, he had made his escape.  He promised my father to
+leave the country, for he saw that with the fancy which
+had seized my husband's brain, nothing else could restore
+domestic harmony.  Accordingly he went, but the evening
+before, I was sitting in the parlor of the manse.  It was
+autumn&mdash;the windows were open, and I was alone.  I saw
+the figure of a man walking slowly up the path that led to
+the house.  He crossed the porch, and for one minute, stood
+gazing in at the window.  It was Malcolm Graham.  He
+held up once more the golden lock.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Farewell, Mary; I cannot gae without your blessing.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'God bless you forever and ever,' was the reply which
+burst from my trembling lips.  He walked hastily away,
+stood at the gate for one moment, waved his hand, and was
+gone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hoped for peace now that he had left the country.
+While he was in Scotland, your father would sit for hours
+gloomy and silent without exchanging a word; then he
+would suddenly take his hat, and set out to search for
+Malcolm, imagining that he was always lurking about the
+manse.  And even after he had gone, I could not regain
+his confidence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The memory of my poor cousin was the shadow in your
+father's life, the ghost that haunted him day and night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Malcolm was gone for several years, but your father
+never wholly recovered his spirits.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In the meanwhile, Effie was born, and the duties of
+daughter, wife and mother fully engrossed my daily life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When you were about nine years old, Malcolm suddenly
+returned.  He was now a rich man; he bought a home,
+furnished it, and took home a widowed sister and child to
+preside over his household.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Life had disciplined his Christian character; he was
+cheerful and serene.  It made me happy to hear that he
+was foremost in all the schemes for good around the
+neighborhood, and the name of Malcolm Graham was everywhere
+revered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He was often called 'the good old bachelor,' for though
+many mammas would have liked to place their daughters
+at the head of his establishment, it was evident that no
+such thoughts ever disturbed the dreams of 'good Uncle
+Malcolm.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"From the time that he returned, your father's gloom and
+restlessness increased.  The mania had seized upon him
+again, and nothing would do, but that the wide ocean must
+separate his wife from the country where Malcolm lived,
+although we had no kind of social intercourse.  We met at
+church, and that was all.  Much to my aged father's grief,
+hasty preparations were made to go to America.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He was devoted to me and my dear children, and could
+not bear the thoughts of my leaving home and dear friends
+to embark upon the ocean, and go to seek a home in a
+strange country, with a man so gloomy and suspicious as
+your father had become.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But during all these trials, my God sustained me, and
+while conscious of being in the path of duty, I was even
+cheerful.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We left Scotland; for awhile we lived comfortably, and
+your father's malady seemed to diminish.  One drawback
+there was always to my happiness, and that was, that your
+father seemed so anxious to break up all connection with
+Scotland, that I was not allowed to write home for months,
+for fear that I should hear something about Malcolm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At length he returned to Scotland, for the purpose of
+settling his affairs, and making America his permanent home.
+On the voyage back again, the vessel was lost, and no word
+was ever heard from him again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"About this time, poor Elsie Gibson appeared among us.
+I never could understand why or how it was, but she always
+seemed acquainted with our affairs, and interested in all
+that concerned us.  There came regular remittances, they
+seemed to come from New York, and were left at our door in
+the evening.  At last I observed that Elsie Gibson appeared
+among us in a day or two after these packages came, and
+always contrived to find out about their safe arrival.  At
+last they ceased altogether, and then came the days of
+poverty and trial, which you, my darlings, have patiently
+shared.  I wrote home frequently, but received no answers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Several times there have been mysterious visits at night
+around our dwelling; once or twice have I seen the figure
+of a man peeping in at our window, and many other
+circumstances have led me to conjecture that your father may
+yet be alive, and that Elsie Gibson knows something about
+him.  She told me that your dear grandfather died soon
+after your father disappeared, and although we heard once
+or twice from Aunt Ellen, that ceased also, and I fear that
+she is no more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If it is in your power, Roland, I wish you to seek your
+friends in Scotland; there must be some left.  I have told
+you this sad story, my dear children, first because I want
+to warn you both of forming connections for life, with any
+one, for any other reason save that of deliberate heartfelt
+choice.  I acted from what I supposed to be duty; it was
+productive of happiness to none concerned.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And another reason is, that by telling you my supposition
+that your father may yet be alive, Roland may try all
+that is in his power to find out the truth, and to comfort
+that afflicted parent, for if he is in the land of the living,
+he is in sorrow, of that I am sure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nothing beside death could separate him so permanently
+from us, but the malady which I have always
+dreaded.  And now, my dear children, let me once more
+bid you, in every hour of sore affliction through which you
+may be called to pass, look upward; upward for direction,
+upward for comfort, upward for hope.  God is 'the Father
+of the fatherless;' remember the sweet promise, 'When
+my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will
+take me up.'  I can leave you in his gracious care.  'May
+he guide you with his counsel here, and, after that, receive
+you to glory.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have done with earthly care and sorrow.  I wait for
+you, my loved ones; I know that you will come to me, and
+that with our precious Saviour throughout eternity we shall
+rejoice as much in the sorrows that we have suffered, as in
+the joys vouchsafed, if they have helped to bring us home
+to glory.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I need not say, do not forget your mother; I know that
+you will not.  Keep close to your Saviour.  Let your motto
+always be, 'Looking aloft,' 'Looking aloft;' through joy
+and through sorrow, still 'Looking aloft.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After closing the manuscript, both the orphans sat
+weeping upon their mother's grave.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How quietly she sleeps! dear, tried, and patient
+mother!" said Roland.  "How blessed is her rest in that
+world of peace and love!  Do not weep so, Effie, God is
+in Heaven; do not lose sight of his promises; have they
+ever failed, dear sister?  He will take care of us, he will
+guide us, I know, if we put our trust in him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am so weak, Roland; since I have lost our mother,
+I feel as if I was all alone in the wide world; and now you
+are going too."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But I shall come back, Effie; I may have a great many
+trials and disappointments, but I can trust the hand that
+guided Noah, and Daniel, and Elijah, that delivered Peter,
+and so many of his dear servants; and Effie, don't let us
+doubt his love, when, to make the promises sure, he gave
+up his dear Son, and nailed him to the cross to make his
+word, 'Yea and Amen.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'll try, Roland, to be trustful as you; but I am a weak
+and timid disciple."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Just think, Effie, that every drop of precious blood was
+just like setting the seal to all the blessed promises; and
+do you believe that the Saviour who could die for us would
+ever forget us?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How you comfort me, Roland; your words are always
+so kind, so strong."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't let us forget our sainted mother's motto, Effie,
+'Looking aloft!'  Oh, what blessedness in such a holy trust!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While seated thus, Roland perceived Elsie Gibson
+advancing towards them.  When any change was about to
+take place in their earthly destiny, there was always the
+same old friend.  They could not fathom the mystery; but
+so it was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And sae ye are aboot to leave us, Roland," said the old
+woman; "ye are the chiel o' mony prayers, and belang to
+the race o' the righteous.  I dinna fear for ye, my bairn."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do not fear, Elsie; I am almost penniless, but the
+promises are all the same."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hae something for ye, Roland," continued the old
+woman, and taking a gold watch from her pocket, she
+continued, "It is your ain; dinna part with it, my son."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland examined it, and found inside the case the initials
+of S.B.  It was a handsome article, and Roland's wonder
+was unbounded.  S.B., what could that mean?  And
+how was it that Elsie Gibson, so poor a woman, could afford
+to give him a watch?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where did this watch come from?" asked Roland, "and
+what right have I to such a gift?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dinna fash yoursel aboot it, Roland; it is by right your
+ain, and some day ye'll ken how&mdash;&mdash;.  I shall like to hear
+o' your welfare, my dear bairn."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I thank you, Elsie, for your kindness to us all.  God
+will bless you, I am sure."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"May the widow's God be wi' ye, Roland, thro' a' your
+wanderings in the wilderness," and shaking hands warmly
+with both the orphans, she vanished from the cemetery.
+None had ever traced the old woman to her home, if home
+she had.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Farewell now, Effie," said her brother, as he folded his
+sister in a warm embrace.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She could not speak, but lay on his bosom overpowered
+with the grief of parting.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Take me home, Roland," said the poor child, and they
+walked in silence to the gate at Woodcliff.  One more
+embrace in silence, one long, agonized kiss, and Effie turned
+up the avenue with a heart too full for utterance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mother, brother, Madeline&mdash;all gone.  Nothing was left
+to the desolate orphan but her Father in Heaven.
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap12"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XII.
+<br><br>
+STARS IN THE NIGHT SEASON.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+Out on the wide, wide world.  Roland could not but
+feel the loneliness, as at the early dawn, with nothing but a
+few clothes packed up in an old carpet bag, and a few
+dollars in his pocket, he turned his face away from what had
+once been home.  It had cost him, youth that he was, many
+an anxious thought and weary hour of toil, to help to keep
+it up; but it was the dear spot where a mother smiled and
+a sister cheered his return.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had paid his last visit, fastened the cottage windows,
+locked the door, and turned to leave the little home.  But
+what is that lying on the front porch?  it looks like a familiar
+object.  He stoops to pick it up.  It is a little book that
+his mother daily used, "Clark on the Promises."  Many a
+pencil mark is on its pages, and many a finger print pressed
+there by a hand that lies mouldering in the grave.  He lays
+it away among his treasures, and turns his footsteps towards
+the sea-shore.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The lonely dashing of the waters at that early hour
+sounded so drearily, and recalled most forcibly the beautiful
+lines of Tennyson.
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "Break, break, break,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;On thy cold gray stones, oh sea!<br>
+  And I would that my tongue could utter<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The thoughts that arise in me.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "O, well for the fisherman's boy<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That he shouts with his sister at play!<br>
+  O, well for the sailor lad,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That he sings in his boat on the bay<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "And the stately ships go on,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;To their haven under the hill,<br>
+  But oh, for the touch of a vanished hand!<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And the sound of a voice that is still.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "Break, break, break,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;At the foot of thy crags, oh sea!<br>
+  But the tender grace of a day that is dead,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Will never come back to me."<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>
+He mounted the rock once more, leaned against the
+flagstaff, and looked out dreamily upon the wide expanse of
+ocean, emblem to him of the untried world beyond.  Then
+he turned to look upon the spot where he had first seen
+Madeline in all her childish grace.  It had been a sweet
+dream with which to commence his young life&mdash;a peep into
+a home of elegance and refinement&mdash;a year's communion
+with a fresh young spirit, so free, so wild, so guileless.
+Some pleasant thoughts stirred in the soul of the youth,
+and caused a smile to flit across his face, as he felt that
+perhaps he might have awakened in that bright child some
+incipient longings after a better life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then his thoughts turned to the reality; the hard, stern
+reality, the battle of life, so soon to commence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"These bright things are not for me," sighed Roland;
+"they might enervate my character.  God knows that it
+will be better schooled in the path which strikes the steel
+within.  What a precious talisman my dear mother has
+left me, 'Looking aloft!' upward where I see the works of
+the Creator, the smiles of God; upward, where I see the
+path trodden by all the good and great of the earth; you
+shall never be ashamed of your son, mother."  The word
+"mother" was spoken audibly, the holy name stirred up
+the depths of Roland's soul, and he wept aloud.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was but a moment of indulgence; for, taking up his
+carpet-bag, he commenced his journey on foot.  And
+whither? like faithful Abraham, he went out, not knowing
+whither he went.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had heard of a neighboring college about one hundred
+and fifty miles off, where the President, himself a self-made
+man, had sympathy with struggling aspirants.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can but try," thought the youth; "I'll go trusting,
+and I may succeed."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All day long he journeyed with a springing, elastic step,
+for hope was strong within him.  He stopped to take his
+meals, and to read a verse or two in his mother's precious
+book of the promises.  When evening approached, Roland
+began to cast about for a night's lodging.  He did not
+want to spend his money, he had so little; that he must
+keep for his books.  But what to do?  He could not sleep
+out upon the ground, it was too cold.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Not far off, he perceived a neat-looking farm-house.
+Two or three children were playing about in the front
+lawn; the mother, a pleasant looking woman, came to the
+door, and with such a kind, cheerful voice called in her
+little ones to tea, that Roland felt she will not refuse me a
+place in her barn.  I can but ask.  He walked directly up
+to the front door with a firm, manly step, and knocked.
+The mistress of the house appeared.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I called to ask, ma'am, if you will allow me to sleep in
+your barn to-night; I have walked twenty miles to-day,
+and have no place where to rest."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Romaine was really a kind woman, but here was a
+stranger, "Would it be safe?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where is thee going, my boy?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am on my road to College, ma'am, and I have yet
+one hundred and thirty miles to travel."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Going to College, my son, and no means to pay for a
+night's lodging; thee must be a brave boy to start on such
+an errand."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My mother told me to stop at nothing to get a good
+education; it was on her death-bed, madam, and I will do
+any thing to obtain such a blessing."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't thee know it takes money to go through college?
+But thee must be tired; come, sit down, my son; what is
+thy name?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Roland Bruce."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How does thee expect to get through, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can work, madam," said Roland, with a bright smile.
+"I am very strong, and very willing; and I have my
+mother's motto to work by."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is that, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Looking aloft,' madam; it is a strong tower."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was in New England, where sympathy with one
+thus anxious was sure to meet a response.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thee can stay with us, Roland, to-night, but not in a
+barn; we have a little room where thee can sleep.  But
+come in, thee must be hungry."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And the kind woman led her guest out to the tea-table,
+where a comfortable repast was already spread.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What can thee do, Roland, in the way of work?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can make fires, black boots, saw wood, etc.; and, I
+suppose that there must be plenty of such work in a college."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But suppose the boys look down upon thee, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can afford to let them, if I get all the knowledge I
+want; they won't do it always; I am above getting angry
+at them, madam."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thee is a strange boy, Roland; so humble, and yet so
+proud, too."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am afraid that there is not so much humility as there
+seems to be about me; for all this stooping down is but to
+rise at last; I shall be thinking of that all the time."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When thee is ready, I will show thee thy room,
+Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They sat and chatted pleasantly for another hour, and,
+when Roland saw the family making preparations for
+retiring, he followed his kind hostess to a snug little room,
+opening out on a front balcony.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was too full of earnest thought for sleep; so,
+taking a chair, he seated himself alone on the balcony.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The family had all retired; quiet reigned around.  It
+was a clear, cold night, and the bright stars shone out, and
+spangled the heavens with their radiant constellations
+Roland looked upward, and listened to their voiceless
+eloquence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+How long had they continued their silent march of glory?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Centuries had rolled by, and year after year had they
+travelled the same wondrous circles, with the same marvellous
+precision.  The north star had pointed the mariner
+on the stormy deep, to his desired haven.  Orion, with his
+glorious belt of stars, on the same day of the month, at
+the same hour, might ever be seen in the same point of the
+heavens; the beauteous Pleiades, obedient too, wheeled in
+their wondrous course.  Ursa Major, at all times, might be
+looked upon as a familiar friend; and amid them all, the
+grand planets had joined the mysterious dance of the
+universe.  Orbit within orbit, sun beyond sun, each the centre
+of other solar systems, had wheeled into their wondrous
+revolutions; obedient to the same laws, without confusion,
+without noise, (for great works are ever noiseless,) from
+century to century; and to-night, guided by the same
+Omnipotent hand, amid the unceasing silent whirl, Roland
+sits and listens to their eloquent teachings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"These are material things," thought Roland, "destined
+at last to be rolled up like a scroll and pass away, but I am
+an immortal.  These transient orbs are the objects of His
+unceasing care, and shall I, an immortal being, fear to trust
+my all in His wise and gracious hands?  His providence, with
+its myriad of wheels, is just as surely guided as are these
+heavenly orbs.  I remember the night when my mother
+showed me these bright constellations, and the very lesson
+that she taught me.  I can look upward to-night, and
+recall it all.  Stars in the night season speak comforting
+words.  It seemed dark night when I left Woodcliff, but
+the stars are shining around my path, as well as in the
+heavens; for was it not the good providence of God that
+led me to this sweet chamber, when all I hoped for was a
+barn?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus communed Roland with the starry heavens, and,
+after having committed himself in perfect trust to the care
+of his Heavenly Father, he laid him down and slept in
+peace.  "So he giveth his beloved sleep."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By the dawn of day he was astir, and after an early
+breakfast, prepared once more for his journey.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thee will have a pleasant day, Roland; it is clear and
+cold, and bracing to a young frame like thine."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland bade his kind hostess good-bye with a grateful
+heart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have cheered me with your kind words, Mrs. Romaine,
+and the blessing of the orphan's God will be upon
+you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Farewell, Roland; I hope thee will be successful; many
+of our great men have started just as thee has."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland did not draw upon his provisions again until the
+middle of the day, when to his surprise he found that a
+large stock of substantials had been added to his store.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Twice in the course of his journey he slept in a barn;
+he had met with some rough treatment, but enough of
+kindness to show that a good Providence was guiding his
+steps.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the close of the sixth day, Roland came in sight of
+the college walls.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A number of the students were strolling on the lawn in
+front of the building.  Several scrutinized him closely, but
+Roland walked steadily forward, with head erect, and firm
+step.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here, I say, Charley, what do you think of the new
+arrival?" said George Stanley to a companion; "extensive
+trunks, hey!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland turned a moment; there was something in his
+eye that Charley did not relish, and he moved away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length he reached the President's room, and was
+directed to be seated.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After a short time, a small man, with rather an
+uninviting aspect, appeared.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is your business, my boy?" asked the President.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am seeking an education, sir," replied Roland, in a
+direct, straight-forward manner.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Who is your father, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have none, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your mother?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am an orphan, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your friends?  I mean responsible persons, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have none, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your means?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"None at all, but these hands, feet, and head, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am afraid that we cannot take you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will do anything, sir; I will saw wood, make fires,
+black shoes, anything but cheat, sir.  I won't say that I
+can pay you, as some might promise, for I never can."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Dr. Kingsley was an eccentric, but a really noble-hearted
+man; he had taken one glance at Roland which had interested
+him, and his questions had been put to try him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had marked the fine dark eye, the expansive brow,
+and the sweet, but firm-set mouth; he had listened to the
+straight-forward appeal of the youth; it brought back his
+own early struggles, and he felt as if such a boy had a right
+to an education of the highest order.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are you aware, my young friend, how trying is the position
+which you propose?  If you are mentally and morally
+superior, are you willing to be treated as an inferior, and
+perhaps sometimes scorned?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can brush away gnats, sir," replied Roland, with an
+expressive toss of his hand; "for I am a Scotch boy, with
+Scotch pride enough to sustain me.  If they scorn me for
+doing right, what care I?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is your name, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Roland Gordon Bruce, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A fine name&mdash;the Gordons were distinguished among
+Scottish martyrs, if I mistake not."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They were, sir; and I trust that I shall never dishonor
+the name I bear."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You can come, Roland," said Dr. Kingsley, in a softer
+tone of voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland had endured the hard tone of scrutiny with
+calmness; but the free consent was more than he could bear.
+He rose suddenly to his feet, seized Dr. Kingsley's hand,
+and with a glowing cheek, and eye suffused with feeling,
+exclaimed&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, dear sir; I have no words to express all
+that I feel."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Dr. Kingsley turned his head away, for he did not care
+that Roland should see his emotion, but continued&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where is your baggage, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is there, Dr. Kingsley," said the boy, smiling, and
+pointing to his carpet-bag; "that contains all my worldly
+goods."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And where are your books, Roland? that is an expensive
+item," continued the President.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have none, sir.  I have about five dollars, sir; will
+that suffice?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We shall see, Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Dr. Kingsley had a sudden call for his handkerchief.
+Blowing his nose violently, he recovered his equanimity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He sent for the Janitor&mdash;"Show this boy to the small
+attic room, No. 70, and see that he is well attended to,
+Mr. James.  Remain here one moment, Roland;" and the good
+man hurried Mr. James out into the hall&mdash;"Be kind to this
+boy; he is made of noble stuff&mdash;don't let the fellows impose
+upon him; he is poor as a church mouse; but he is proud,
+and brave as a lion."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. James conducted Roland to his little attic, where he
+soon deposited his worldly goods; and at the ringing of the
+supper-bell, made his first appearance among the world of
+students.  He took a seat appointed at the foot of the room,
+at a side-table, among the younger boys, and glanced around
+him.  His clothes were mean and shabby, compared with
+any by whom he was surrounded; but there was a quiet
+manly air of independence, as he sat with head thrown
+back, one arm leaning upon the table, and a calm straight-forward
+look in his eagle eye, that repelled insolence; and
+Roland was allowed to sit among them in silence, but
+without any welcome from the boys.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After supper, as it was yet the time of freedom, many
+of the students strolled out upon the lawn.  Roland took
+his seat under a large oak tree, alone in the great crowd.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A handsome boy, dressed in the height of fashion,
+advanced towards our novice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You look lonely, sir; may I ask your name?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Roland Bruce&mdash;and yours?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Edmund Norris.  Now come and take a stroll with me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland joined his young companion.  Several of the boys
+tittered at the patronage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ned can do as he pleases," said George Stanley; "but
+I am a little more cautious about my acquaintances; I dare
+say he is only a charity boy; I saw the poor, mean
+carpetbag that he brought."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edmund Norris was a petted child of wealthy parents,
+but he had a warm, noble heart; and remembered the day
+when he came as a stranger among so many.  His great
+fault of character was want of firmness, easily led, and
+generous to a fault; consequently, he was a great favorite&mdash;a
+dangerous distinction for a college boy, with plenty of
+money.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You'll soon get acquainted with the boys that are worth
+knowing," said Edmund.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I came only to study," answered Roland; "so that I
+can have my books and a quiet corner, I care not for the
+roughness of outward circumstances."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You'll find Dr. Kingsley a fine old fellow; he's hard
+upon us lazy ones, keen-eyed as a fox, none need try to
+deceive him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I like his few words, and kind deeds," answered Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't get home-sick&mdash;that is a horrid feeling, and all
+have it at first.  I dare say when you go to your room,
+you will go to sleep with moistened cheek, thinking of
+mother and home."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have neither home nor mother; I am almost alone in
+this wide, wide world&mdash;none but a sister can I claim in
+America&mdash;good night, Mr. Norris."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland returned to his room with a grateful heart.
+Another star had arisen upon his night-season, and, as he
+looked out upon the spangled heavens, they seemed to
+smile upon the bright young aspirant, as he sank to sleep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next morning, his examination took place, his studies
+were appointed, and his duties in the house defined.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When he took the boots the first time from the students'
+doors, many of them were in the passage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I told you that he was only a charity student," said
+George Stanley; "he's to be our boot-black, I see&mdash;it's a
+capital joke, by jingo! with his princely airs."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But though performing these menial offices, his deportment
+in the class-rooms, and his superior recitations,
+commanded respect, in spite of the slurs cast upon him by
+mean spirits.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had marked out his course, notwithstanding all that
+might be done, steadily to perform his duties, to avoid the
+students generally, and, above all things, to employ all his
+leisure time in preparing for his recitations.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a hard lot that Roland Bruce had chosen&mdash;it
+took him several hours at night to clean the boots, although
+he was aided by a little fellow in the employ of the
+institution; before the dawn of day, he was busy carrying up
+wood and making the fires, aided by the same little fellow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He allowed himself but six hours' sleep, and husbanded
+his time so carefully, that, with all his hard labor, he really
+accomplished more than half the students in the college.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Added to his industry, Roland's talents were of no common
+order, and the faculty soon perceived that the humble
+boot-black of the college, would carry off most of its
+honors.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Holloa, Boots!" exclaimed George Stanley one morning,
+as Roland was passing through the halls with wood for
+the rooms.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He passed on without noticing the insolence.  As he
+returned, Stanley was at the door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here, Boots!  I want to see you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When you speak to me as you ought, I am ready to
+listen," answered Roland, with quiet dignity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, Mr. Bruce, I want to say to you, that you don't
+polish my boots well."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Complain to the authorities, Mr. Stanley," and Roland
+passed on.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Proud as Lucifer!  I wish I could humble him, with
+his grand airs of superiority," said Stanley, as he banged
+the door of his room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You humble him!" answered Edmund Norris; "a
+pigmy might as well try to reach the sun."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, what is he, Norris? but a mere boot-black for
+the college.  I won't stand his pride."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Go to the recitation room, if you want to see what
+Roland Bruce is&mdash;there is not a fellow in the college that
+can compete with him, notwithstanding all his hard labor."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I suppose that he is a prince in disguise, Norris, from
+the airs which he puts on."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He has done nothing to offend you, Stanley, and yet
+you take every opportunity to insult him.  I tell you, sir,
+that I know Roland Bruce&mdash;neither you nor I could have
+the independence which he exhibits; and, so far from
+humbling him, in my estimation, it exalts him; though I
+know that I never could reach it&mdash;I could not saw wood
+and black shoes for my education."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the students met again in the dining-hall, Norris
+stepped up to Roland, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your seat is by me henceforth at the table."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How is this?" inquired Roland, surprised.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I made the request, that's all; you shall be treated
+properly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Several of the students frowned on finding themselves so
+near to "Boots," as they termed him; when speaking <i>of</i>,
+not <i>to</i> Roland Bruce.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How long since you were knighted, Sir Edmund?"
+asked Stanley; "I find that you have taken your place
+among the sons of chivalry."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If I am entitled to the name for righting the oppressed,
+very well, I <i>am</i> Sir Edmund Norris."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland, with his quiet dignity of demeanor, really did
+not look very much in need of patronage; although truly
+grateful to the generous young soul, who was always his
+champion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Our young student had secured the universal respect of
+the faculty&mdash;Dr. Kingsley was his firm, tried friend; he
+furnished him with all his necessary text-books, so that
+the five dollars were yet untouched.  Mrs. Jennings, the
+matron, was extremely kind, looking after his little stock
+of clothes, keeping them as neat as possible, and not
+unfrequently adding a collar or two, a handkerchief, or a pair
+of stockings to his scanty wardrobe.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can't you stop in my room a minute, Roland?" said
+the good lady.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I thank you, my dear madam, but I really have no
+time to day."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Always busy, my son; may you be rewarded for your
+patient industry."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, my good, kind friend;" and Roland's heart
+swelled with emotion, for he had heard but one kind
+womanly voice since he had lost his dear mother, and that
+was good Mrs. Romaine's.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is a box for you, Roland," said the janitor; and,
+much to his surprise, he found quite a large box in his
+little attic, accompanied by a letter from sister Effie; so
+full of love and tender recollection, that, for a moment, it
+quite unmanned him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will find many useful things, dear Roland; don't
+ask how I got them; my own hands made the shirts and
+hemmed the handkerchiefs; they come to you from a very
+dear friend.  The suit of clothes comes from Mr. Hamilton,
+who has heard of your course at college, and who was
+quite chagrined that you should go without seeing him;
+but the shirts and handkerchiefs are a secret."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland opened the box, and there he found a suit of
+clothes, half a dozen shirts, stockings, and handkerchiefs,
+with other valuable and necessary things.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He bowed his knee before his Father in Heaven, and
+blessed him for the gift, for really his old clothes were
+completely worn out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stars in the night season shining still around him&mdash;why
+should he ever doubt?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edmund met him with a beaming countenance in the
+dining hall, not that he cared any more for Roland in his
+neat mourning suit, but it did please him to see his friend
+taking his seat among his fellows, in the garb of a gentleman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Who could have sent the shirts and handkerchiefs? but
+one kind friend could he think of, and that was Madeline
+Hamilton.  He knew that whatever she desired, was
+granted to her by her indulgent father.  It was pleasant
+to be thus remembered&mdash;but how humbling to Roland's
+pride, who longed to work for all his needs!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland really loved his warm-hearted friend, Edmund
+Norris, but he saw that he was wasting both time and
+money.  Night after night would he sit up until a late
+hour, indulging in card-playing and champagne.  He was
+constantly resolving to change his course, but he had no
+power to put his resolutions into practice.  The term was
+rapidly passing away, the time for examination drawing
+nigh, and Roland feared that his friend would utterly fail.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edmund was often late at chapel and recitation, and
+yawning and listless all day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland's mind was soon resolved as to duty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Shall I see you this evening, Edmund, after supper, on
+the lawn?" said the faithful friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will be there," was the reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+True to his promise, Roland awaited his coming.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am aware what you have to say, Roland," said the
+young man; "you want to read me a lecture upon my evil
+ways; is it not so?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have no right to lecture you, Edmund; but I cannot
+see you ruining all your prospects, and throwing away
+every advantage, without remonstrance."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know it is all true, Roland; but what is a fellow to
+do?  Just as soon as I go to my room for study, three or
+four of my chums follow me, and there is no rest until I
+open my door, and then come the champagne and the cards,
+and night after night is spent in this way.  I am always
+resolving, but can bring nothing good to pass."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are you happy, Edmund?  Does conscience acquit you?
+What would your father say!  Can you bear to be
+disgraced at the close of the term?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edmund bowed his head, and replied, "I am a miserable
+fellow!  None of these things really satisfy me; but what
+can I do?  I have too much money, Roland; I want to
+turn over a new leaf.  I have a thought," and, taking his
+pocket-book out of his pocket, he continued, "take it,
+Roland; keep it for me; when I really need money, I will ask
+for it, and give a strict account."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Really, Edmund! that seems very much like a child."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, Roland, that is just what I am; a weak, spoiled
+child, and I must be treated as one; if I am to study, I
+must put it out of my power to waste my time."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland took the trust smiling, and said, "You will not
+complain, Edmund, if I sometimes refuse your demands."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is the bargain, Roland; I think that I can keep
+my promise."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The young man really did close his doors upon all his idle
+friends, and commenced a new course.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Shall I come to your little attic, Roland, to study?  No
+one will follow me there."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Certainly, my friend;" and Edmund found the quiet of
+the distant room, and the presence of his studious friend, a
+great help to his new resolutions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Boots" was making rapid progress in his studies.  Many
+were jealous of his talents, and feared him as a rival; but
+with the one great end in view, he was turned aside by
+nothing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland's manly Christianity was overcoming all enmity
+excepting with mean grovelling spirits.  Stanley still
+delighted to make thrusts at him, for he could not but
+acknowledge his superiority.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One morning, he stopped at Stanley's door for his boots;
+they were not outside; he knocked&mdash;a faint voice answered,
+"Come in."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland entered, and poor Stanley lay on the bed, burning
+with fever, and tossing from side to side in agony.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is the matter, Stanley?" asked Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have suffered agony all night; my head aches and
+burns, and my whole frame is shaking with chills."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am sorry for you, Stanley; it is bad to be sick
+without a woman's care and kindness; shall I bathe your
+head?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland brought a basin of cool water, washed the poor
+fellow's face, combed his hair, and laid cloths wet with cool
+water on his burning head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will send the doctor, Stanley; you need advice."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Going immediately to the matron, he informed her of the
+case, sent for the physician, and returned to Stanley's room,
+where he stayed cooling his head until the doctor arrived.
+It was a serious case, and needed great care, the physician
+said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All others avoided the sick room for fear of a contagious
+disease, and poor Stanley would have suffered greatly,
+perhaps have lost his life, had it not been for Roland's care.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He received the doctor's orders, saw that his medicines
+were given at the proper time, and spent as much of
+his time as possible by Stanley's bed-side; that, however,
+could not be long with all his other duties; but Stanley
+was never left alone, for the Janitor's boy stayed with him;
+and by Roland's minute directions, he was properly attended to.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stanley was very ill for three weeks; when convalescent,
+he called Roland to his bed-side, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How could you do so much for me?  I have never said
+a kind word to you since you came here."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'When thine enemy hunger, feed him; when he thirsts,
+give him drink; for in so doing, thou shalt heap coals of
+fire on his head.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Whose words are these, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The words of Jesus, Stanley."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are you one of his disciples?  I thought you were too
+manly for that, Roland.  I have always thought that that
+will do for old women and children; not for men."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are mistaken, Stanley; a Christian is the highest
+order of a man."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will you forgive me, Roland?  I have been a mean
+puppy to you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Forgive, Stanley!  Certainly.  You have been
+thoughtless, but I hope not unfeeling."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have conquered George Stanley, Roland, and woe
+to the fellow that dares speak against you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am so happy, Stanley, to see you getting better; but
+do not thank me; thank your Father in Heaven; he is the
+giver of life and health."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Another star in the night season," thought Roland.  "If
+I can only do some good to poor Stanley, I shall be satisfied."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edmund kept his resolution&mdash;to be sure one evening he
+stayed rather longer than usual in Roland's room, as though
+having something to say.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Roland, I want some money," said the youth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland smiled.  "For what, may I ask?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, never mind this time, Roland; I want it; it's mine,
+and that is enough."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But where is your promise, Edmund?  You remember
+that you agreed to tell me what you meant to do with it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There's a new arrival, Roland, an old friend of ours,
+and I want to give a treat."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland smiled again.  "I cannot consent, Edmund; it
+breaks the contract."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, I've made myself a little boy, indeed; can't
+have my own&mdash;I must have five dollars."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You can't to-night, Edmund; come to me to-morrow
+morning, and we will talk about it then; it was your own
+proposition, and you must abide by it; it has been a great
+benefit thus far; you have not missed a recitation for three
+weeks; I am not going to see all your good resolutions
+thrown to the winds."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edmund retired not very well pleased, but could not
+gainsay one word that Roland had uttered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next morning, he came with a bright face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You were right, Roland, and I wrong; you know how
+to manage me, I see that."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The close of the year arrived&mdash;Roland occupied the
+highest place in the college, and Edmund passed a
+respectable examination, thanks to his faithful friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There has been partiality shown to 'Boots,'" said Robert
+Thornton; "I don't believe that he deserves all the
+honors."
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap13"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XIII.
+<br><br>
+DRIFT-WOOD.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+Farewells are spoken&mdash;trunks are strapped&mdash;Roland's
+carpet-bag is well packed, filled by good Mrs. Jennings, for
+she has discovered that he returns on foot.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sleeping in barns, occasionally at farm-houses, at last he
+finds himself in sight of Woodcliff; he passes Maple Lane
+school on his way, and remembers the bright young face
+that used to smile upon him so kindly, and the reverent
+folding of her little hands, as Maddy listened to the
+teaching of her young mentor, so meek under his reproofs, so
+fiery and impetuous with all others.  He wondered how it
+was now.  On, on, past the cottage home, past the
+cemetery, he finds himself at the gate of Woodcliff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Walking up the familiar avenue, old Hector bounds to
+meet him, for he was a staunch friend of Roland Bruce.
+Effie hears the noise, and runs out to see what is the matter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A glance at the tall young man is sufficient.  It is her
+own dear, dear brother! and in another minute, Effie is
+pressed to the warm heart of her only relative.  Roland
+holds her off, and looks anxiously at his dear sister.  Is she
+really paler, thinner; or is it the mourning-dress that makes
+her look so pallid?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are you well, Effie?" asks the anxious brother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, yes, Roland, and so happy; they are all so good to
+me here.  Miss Matilda will not let me overwork myself,
+and Mr. Hamilton is so kind."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you ever hear of Madeline, Effie?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, yes, frequently; and she always asks about you,
+Roland; she is just as glad as I am when you are successful
+at college."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Has she been at home lately?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She was here at vacation; but it does not take place at
+the same time with yours."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Has she grown much, Effie?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Very much; she is growing tall, and so beautiful.  You
+know, brother, that I always thought that there was nobody
+so pretty as Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is she like she used to be, Effie?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not so wild, brother; but just as sweet and affectionate.
+She used to go every day to see the rose-bush that
+you planted together, and she was always singing the
+Scotch songs that you taught her.  Where will you stay,
+brother?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At old Peter's; that will do very well for me, Effie.
+Before I return to college, I am going to the White Mountains;
+I want to see them so much, and the journey on foot
+will do me good."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How about your clothes, brother?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, yes, you little rogue, you thought that I could not
+guess your secret.  Why, who else would send me the new
+shirts and handkerchiefs but Madeline?  You had no money,
+Effie, and she is the only one that cares for me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Effie smiled.  "You've guessed right, brother.  When
+she was at home she gave me the money, and I made them
+all.  What a happy little thing she was when they were
+done!  She skipped about, and danced like a merry little
+kitten.  'Roland shall look like a gentleman at college,'
+she said; 'and I know there's not one ahead of him there.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Effie, do you remember our dear mother's last message?
+Oh, what a comfort it has been to me!  'Looking aloft!'
+whenever I have felt as if my heart would sink, I have
+remembered those sweet words, Effie, and they have made
+me so strong."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So have I, Roland.  I am often very lonely, brother,
+and sometimes very weak.  Sometimes I feel as if my life
+will be a short time; then the dear words come, 'Looking
+aloft!' and I think of all that they mean, and they make
+me happy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Shall we go into the conservatory, Effie?" asked her
+brother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, yes; I have taken good care of her flowers, Roland;
+and that Scotch heather is always so pretty!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Effie led her brother to the old spot.  The flowers were in
+full bloom.  Roland plucked a branch from Madeline's own
+rose-bush, and another from the heather, and turned away.
+Next, he entered the library, and on opening one of the
+book-cases, there lay a glove of his little friend; and in
+one of the books, a pressed branch of sea-weed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I may have these, Effie?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, yes; they are of no use to Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland laid them carefully away, and then turned to seek
+old Peter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall see you soon again, Effie.  Good-bye, now."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-bye, dear brother.  I am so glad that you have
+come."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is that you, my lad?" said old Peter.  "I'm right glad
+to see your young face once more."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can you let me stay a few days with you, uncle Peter?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, yes, boy; but ours is a poor place; we can't do
+much for you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It will be well enough.  I shall only be here for a few
+days."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland rambled around among the old familiar scenes,
+and towards evening, returned to the sea-shore.  Seating
+himself upon the rock where he had passed so many happy
+days, he gazed out upon the wide ocean.  The music of its
+waves was sad, depressing.  It spoke of the past; for the
+future it had no voice.  As he mused, a log of drift-wood
+floated by.  How solitary it seemed!  All alone! floating
+on the wide ocean, drifting whither the tide would wash it
+up at last.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is that like me?" thought Roland.  "Am I so lonely
+in this wide world?  Am I such a creature of chance?"  No
+human voice was near to answer the question of his
+soul.  The night birds sang their melancholy song around
+him, and it was an hour of deep sadness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why should I indulge in such a train of thought?" inquired
+Roland of his heart.  "This is the language of
+despondency, almost of despair.  Am I indeed nothing but
+driftwood?&mdash;so useless, so solitary!"  Looking upward, the bright
+fair moon was sailing overhead so serene! so pure! so silent!
+With her voiceless majesty she answered, and the mother's
+dying whispers came like sweet music to banish the
+language of despair:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Looking aloft, Roland!' 'Looking aloft!' I will
+not be the drift-wood of human life.  I will seek to fit
+myself for my place on this great globe, and, obedient to my
+Maker's laws as is that placid moon, I shall with his
+blessing move on as surely to my destiny; happy to serve my
+God here, and enjoy the fulness of His presence hereafter.
+Float on, thou worthless log! thou shalt not symbolize my
+fate!  Sail on, thou placid moon!  Let my course in life
+be steady, calm, obedient, as thine."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The voice within quickened his pace as he walked up and
+down the beach, repeating the Psalm of Life:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "Tell me not in mournful numbers,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Life is but an empty dream!<br>
+  For the soul is dead that slumbers,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And things are not what they seem.<br>
+  Life is real!  Life is earnest!<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And the grave is not its goal;<br>
+  'Dust thou art, to dust returnest,'<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Was not spoken of the soul," &c. &c.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>
+Turning his steps towards Uncle Peter's cabin, he slept
+the quiet sleep of recovered trust and confidence in God.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next evening he sought his mother's grave.  How
+soothing were the words upon that marble head-stone!
+"She sleeps in Jesus."  And how sweetly did they speak
+of the dear little friend that placed them there!  He had
+not been seated long before Elsie Gibson made her
+appearance.  She seemed delighted to meet Roland again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Weel, Roland, the days o' youth are passing away,
+a'maist a mon.  Ye're the vera image o' ane I luve weel;
+may ye be a happier mon than he."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Whom do you mean, Elsie?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It matters na, my bairn; I'm glad to hear sic a good
+account o' ye, Roland, at the college; there's a great wark
+before ye, my son, may ye live to do it weel."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Elsie," said Roland, "do you know anything about my
+father?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I used to ken a' aboot him, Roland, in days lang syne,
+when we were baith young."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you know where he is now, Elsie?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why should ye ask sic a question, Roland? do ye na
+ken that the vessel in which he sailed was lost?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have heard so, Elsie; but strange thoughts have
+crossed my mind lately."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They are silly thoughts, Roland; ye maun think o'
+yer father as dead.  Good-bye, Roland, I maun be awa'."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland turned his steps again towards Woodcliff.  This
+time he asked Effie to let him sit alone in the library for a
+few minutes.  He turned over many volumes, which he
+knew Madeline was in the habit of reading, and in many a
+page he found her mark.  Taking up a small portfolio
+which contained many scraps of paper, listlessly he sketched
+the sweet face as he first saw Madeline on the sea-shore
+with Harry, Charles, and the other children.  Roland had
+cultivated his taste for drawing, and had made a striking
+pencil-sketch of the scene.  Placing it almost unconsciously
+back in the portfolio, he left the room, and, crossing the
+hall, met Mr. Hamilton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, Roland, I am rejoiced to see you.  How greatly
+you have grown,&mdash;almost a man!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, sir; time makes changes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How are you progressing at college, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Very well, sir; there is one of our catalogues," handing
+one to Mr. Hamilton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is good news, Roland.  I hope, my boy, that you
+will continue to reap such high honors.  Stay, and dine
+with us, Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was the first time that he had ever been invited to
+Woodcliff as a table-guest, and with a modest blush, he
+accepted the courtesy.  It pleased him to find that Effie's
+place was also at the family table, and with the well-bred
+ease of a native gentleman, he took Mr. Hamilton quite by
+surprise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline would like to see you, Roland; she was at
+home last vacation, and has greatly improved; you would
+scarcely recognize little Mad-cap; she is so much more
+sober."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Does she sing as much as ever?" asked Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, her voice is splendid; she shall have the best
+masters that I can find, Roland.  But do you know, boy,
+that I like the old ballads she used to sing, more than the
+opera-style, which is now so fashionable?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Before Roland took his leave, Mr. Hamilton sought a
+private opportunity to speak to him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is there anything that I can do for you, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He grasped Mr. Hamilton's hand warmly, as he answered,
+"I am already your debtor, sir; and found your
+gift of inestimable value."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You were kind to my little daughter, Roland; and I am
+always at your service."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland bowed, and took his departure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is a remarkable youth, Matilda," said Mr. Hamilton,
+as he closed the door.  "I don't know what to make
+of him; brought up wholly in a cottage, without the
+advantages of refined society, he has more of the manners of
+a gentleman than either Harry Castleton or Charles
+Davenport.  He must have had a remarkable mother, and the
+soul within must be of the noblest mould."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But really, brother, I don't think it well to encourage
+the intimacy between this youth and our Madeline.  He is
+growing to be a man, and an attractive one to such a romantic
+child as yours.  You really talked of her to-day to
+Roland as if he were her equal."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Really, Matilda, you are simply ridiculous; he is actually
+a plebeian, and Madeline patronizes him; it has rather
+amused me to see her independence."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I don't approve of the levelling system, Lewis Hamilton.
+Let each one keep his place in society; no good comes
+of these intimacies."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am not afraid, Matilda.  I think our Maddy has a
+good share of pride&mdash;enough to keep her from low
+associates."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I tell you, Lewis, that Roland Bruce has more influence
+over that proud and wayward child than any other living
+person,&mdash;a word from him, a look of reproof, I am told, had
+more power to check her impetuous nature, than all the
+teachers of Maple Lane school."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, Matilda, he has never taught her anything wrong;
+she is greatly improved since she knew the Bruce family."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are certainly possessed, brother, with a spirit of
+contradiction; but I have borne my testimony,&mdash;you must
+have your own way.  I have said all that I mean to."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland's was rather a sad walk back to old Peter's cabin.
+He felt that he was rapidly approaching the years of
+manhood, and that Madeline would soon step over the sweet
+days of childhood, and enter the enchanted ground of young
+maidenhood.  Then, the difference in their social position
+would raise the barrier over which he dare not step; and
+Madeline Hamilton and Roland Bruce would henceforth
+belong to different worlds.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a hard thought; but Roland had seen enough, and
+known enough of worldly pride, to feel that this was so.
+Not with Madeline herself, for she was too much a child of
+nature for that; but he must not allow her to incur the
+displeasure of her father, but especially her aunt, by forgetting
+the broad gulf between them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On his next visit to Woodcliff, he was struck with
+something peculiar in the look of Effie's eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your eyes look weak, Effie.  I fear that you sew too
+closely; is it not so?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They do annoy me sometimes, Roland; they get so
+dim that I can hardly use them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do take care of them, sister; any disease of the eye is
+such a great calamity."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It would be a sore affliction to lose my sight, Roland;
+then indeed I should find it difficult to look upward."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't let us forget, Effie, that whatever befalls us, comes
+from our Father's hand, and must be a part of the training
+by which He means to fit us for the better world."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is a comfort, dear Roland, to feel that God cannot do
+wrong&mdash;if we could only trust him always."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At that moment, Nanny called Effie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here is a letter from Miss Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am so glad that it came while you were with us,
+Roland," said Effie, as she broke the seal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She read it hurriedly, and said&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here is something about you, Roland;" and she read
+the quotation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I suppose that you hear often from Roland; I should
+like to know what he is doing&mdash;tell him that little Maddy
+is growing to be quite a studious, serious girl.  My chief
+companion here is Lucy Edmonds; she is a dear, sweet
+friend; I wish that I were like her.  I am learning a great
+deal of new music, but I have not forgotten any of my old
+Scotch songs.  Take care of my rose-bush, Effie: I mean
+the one that Roland planted; I hope that it will not die.
+Be kind to old Hector for my sake, dear old fellow!  Now
+that I am away, I think more of Roland's good lessons
+than I did when at home; I am sure that I shall never forget
+them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Effie handed the letter to Roland, which he read quite
+through.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She will be surrounded by snares, Effie, when her education
+is finished; with all her wealth and beauty, I tremble
+for Madeline; but still I do not believe that the world will
+wholly spoil our little friend."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When will you leave us, Roland?" asked his sister.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In two days, I think; I have brought up my clothes
+for you to look over, Effie; so soon as that is done, I shall
+take up my line of march."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will you walk all the way, Roland? it is so far."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am used to that, Effie; indeed I prefer it; for I can
+stop where I please, enjoy all that is beautiful, and rest
+when I am tired.  Don't be afraid of me, little sister; I am
+very brave and strong."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His preparations were soon made.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Effie, you don't know what a comfort you are to me&mdash;while
+I have you, I cannot feel alone.  Some of these days
+we shall have a dear little home, where you shall be the
+household fairy, and your brother the guide and strong arm
+of his precious sister."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Take care of yourself, dear Roland; don't be so daring;
+I don't believe that you ever think of danger."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall climb the highest mountain, Effie, it is such a
+pleasure to conquer difficulties; and I will bring back to
+you the beautiful ferns and mosses of the mountains&mdash;then
+you can make one of your pretty baskets for Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Folding her once more to his heart, Roland took his final
+leave.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall be back in a few weeks, Effie; good-bye for a
+little while;" and looking back, he kissed his hand, and
+smiled upon his dear sister.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Effie looked after her brother with an admiring gaze, and
+thought "How handsome he is!  What a noble walk!  God
+bless my dear, dear brother."
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap14"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XIV.
+<br><br>
+"EXCELSIOR."
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+Happy season of bright joyous youth!  It nerved Roland's
+springing step, flushed the glowing cheek, brightened
+the dark eye, and gushed forth in cheering song upon the
+early morning air.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The past for awhile faded, the future was left in the
+hands of the kind Father, and the youth revelled in the
+freedom of the present moment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On through the charming scenes which led him to the
+place of his destination; sometimes, by the roadside where
+bloomed the neat little homes of New England, all with
+their pretty porches entwined with flowers of every hue;
+then, through the thick woods where happy birds carolled
+around his path; again by the river's brink, with the bright
+sky overhead, and in the sweet consciousness of an interest
+in all these beauties of creation, Roland could look up and
+say, "My Father made them all."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length he stopped at the foot of the mountain which
+it was his ambition to reach.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Large numbers like himself were preparing for the ascent,
+but none on foot, save our young aspirant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On through thick green foliage, and over rocky paths, he
+pressed his way, occasionally stopping to rest under some
+shady canopy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Frequently in company with youthful parties, whose
+merry chatter disturbed the thoughts which began to crowd
+upon Roland, as the ascent brought frequently to view some
+new scene of beauty and grandeur.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As he pressed on, the journey became still more toilsome
+and difficult, the road stony and rough; and Longfellow's
+Excelsior came fresh upon his memory.  Seating himself
+for awhile, he repeated audibly the beautiful lines.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The fresh mountain air inspired him with renewed courage
+and determination, and, starting once more, he strained
+every nerve in his efforts to scale these steep mountain
+heights.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The voices of the travellers on horseback became fainter
+every moment, until at length he was left in perfect
+solitude upon these dizzy heights.  After many struggles over
+rocks, and by the brinks of deep ravines, Roland found
+himself upon the top of Mount Washington.  The wind
+was blowing fiercely; he could scarcely keep his feet; the
+howling of its blasts through the deep solitudes, and wild
+whistling music among the tall green pines, together with
+the cold air, which almost cut his cheeks, and made him
+draw his coat more closely around him, almost banished
+the thought that at the foot of the mountain glowed the
+heat of summer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was highly favored, for it was a bright sunny day,
+and the atmosphere perfectly transparent.  With cheeks
+tingling from excitement, and blood stirring in every vein,
+he stood entranced amid the glorious scenery.  He felt that
+he had conquered, and the consciousness nerved the young
+soul for further efforts.  This suited the tone of his character,
+and prefigured the temper with which he would in future
+fight the battle of life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He looked around&mdash;grandeur marked every feature.  Beneath
+him lay the great world, the theatre of future conflicts.
+The busy cities, the rivalries, the sins of men, the
+trials of the way, the din of battle, the "Slough of
+Despond," the "Giant Despair,"&mdash;but here certainly was also
+a glimpse of the "Land of Beulah."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Above, the glorious sky, so vast, so magnificent! around
+him, the scenery which no pencil could ever fully paint.
+Deep ravines, towering peaks of glory, falls of water dashing
+down the dizzy heights, and beyond! peak piled on peak,
+stretching as far as eye could reach, a whole amphitheatre
+of glorious mountains.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A voice within answered to the voice around; it was the
+same which had spoken to him in the days of childhood,
+when standing in one of his native glens, among the rude
+mountains of Scotland, he had listened to the story of his
+martyred ancestors.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His soul swelled then, child that he was, with lofty
+emotions.  It swelled now with fuller, deeper majesty, as he
+listened to the voice of God among these mountains; and
+on through life, that voice will follow Roland.  He took out
+his little Testament and read, "I will lift up mine eyes unto
+the hills from whence cometh my help."  And again,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the
+Lord is round about his people."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Need I look farther?" asked Roland of his soul.  "God
+is here!  <i>My</i> God!  <i>My</i> Father!"&mdash;and, bowing his head,
+he lifted up the voice of prayer, and here amid these
+mountain solitudes, made a fresh covenant with the God of his
+martyred fathers.  In this hour of rapt communion, he
+remembered Effie, his orphan sister, and Madeline, the dear
+little friend of his early youth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here, surrounded by these glorious mountains, in this
+vast solitude, it was easy to imagine the glories of that
+mountain of the Lord, when his people gathered home once
+more, should rest in peace; and when in the glories of the
+latter days, wars and tumults, strife and discord, sin and
+misery, should forever cease.
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "Upon the frontier of this shadowy land,<br>
+  We, pilgrims of eternal sorrow, stand.<br>
+  What realm lies forward with its happier store<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Of forests green and deep,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Of valleys hushed in sleep,<br>
+  And lakes most peaceful?  'Tis the<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Land of Evermore.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "Very far off its marble cities seem&mdash;<br>
+  Very far off&mdash;beyond our sensual dream&mdash;<br>
+  Its woods, unruffled by the wild winds roar:<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Yet does the turbulent surge<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Howl on its very verge<br>
+  One moment&mdash;and we breathe within the<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Evermore.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "They whom we loved and lost so long ago,<br>
+  Dwell in those cities, far from mortal woe,<br>
+  Hunt those fresh woodlands, where sweet carollings soar.<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Eternal peace have they:<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;God wipes their tears away:<br>
+  They drink that river of life which flows for<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Evermore.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "Thither we hasten through these regions dim;<br>
+  But lo, the wide wings of the seraphim<br>
+  Shine in the sunset!  On that joyous shore<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Our lighted hearts shall know<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The life of long ago:<br>
+  The sorrow burdened past shall fade for<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Evermore."<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>
+There was nothing but the shelter of a rude shed, but so
+enraptured was our young traveller that he resolved to
+stay.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the evening, the screams of the wild mountain birds
+added to the grandeur of the scene; and often could be
+seen in the air, sailing along in graceful swoops, the
+American eagle, proud emblem of our country's glory.  In the
+deep night season, the growling of wild animals, the howling
+of the winds, whose deep sighs through the ravines,
+filled the whole air with music&mdash;not sweet and silvery, but
+grand, majestic, overpowering; for nature has her deep
+bass as well as her rich tenor, and her sweet warbling
+treble.  Here was the effect of the deep bass of harmonious
+instruments; and to crown all, distant thunder rolled
+from cliff to cliff, echoing until lost in the distance, and
+Roland looked on, and listened in eloquent silence.  His
+visit was drawing to a close&mdash;how could he descend from
+such heights of grandeur, to the busy, bustling world
+again?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But duty called; packing up his little all, and gathering
+the ferns and mosses in a box which he had brought for
+the purpose, he commenced his descent.  Not soon should
+he forget the inspiration of these vast solitudes, away from
+man, alone with God.  He buckled on his armor, and with
+a brave spirit sped to the foot of the mountain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland had heard much of the beauty of the charming lake
+Winnipiseogee, which lay on the route to the mountains,
+and thither he resolved to tarry for awhile.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Arriving in the evening, he rambled along its beautiful
+margin, the glorious mountains spanning the horizon, here
+adding features of beauty, there of grandeur.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a great transition from such wild magnificence, to
+this placid beauty; the calm lake, the pretty little hotel,
+the boating parties on the clear water, the refined society,
+the grassy banks with the fine old trees that formed so
+many bowers of shade, for here it was really summer; all
+this was soothing, not stirring as the mountain tops.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Day by day, musing, sketching, rambling, or rowing
+about in the little boat, owned by the family, he enjoyed
+nis summer recreation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One evening, returning from one of these excursions on
+the lake, stepping on shore, whom should he encounter but
+Edmund Norris.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Seizing Roland's hand, he exclaimed, "Why, my good
+fellow! how came you here?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"On foot, Edmund!" said Roland, smiling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But where are you staying?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At that little cottage, Edmund."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Go, pack up your duds, Roland, and come with me, I
+can't do without you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Who is in your party, Edmund?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Only my mother and sister."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They would consider me an intruder, Edmund; besides,
+it is impossible, I can't stay at a hotel."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And why not, sir?  I think I know, Roland; I will not
+take any denial&mdash;you have done me infinite service, and I
+can never repay you.  I must introduce you to my mother,
+Roland; she is anxious to know you," and placing his
+friend's arm within his own, he hurried him off to the hotel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My friend, Roland Bruce, mother, my sister, Miss
+Norris," and Roland bowed to a very pleasant looking
+middle aged lady, and an interesting young girl, in the
+person of Jessie Norris.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We are glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Bruce,"
+replied the mother, at the same time extending her hand;
+"this is a meeting that I have long desired."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The summer passed rapidly, and the party separated for
+their respective destinations.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edmund would not hear of Roland's return on foot,
+consequently they travelled together to the point nearest
+Woodcliff, and there they parted, mutually pleased;
+Edmund to his home, and Roland back to Woodcliff, to pay a
+short parting visit to Effie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We shall meet at college, Roland," said Edmund.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, and it must be a hard working year; I can only
+go two terms after this."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another week near Woodcliff, and Roland prepared for
+toil again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have come, dear Effie, to say farewell for awhile,"
+aid Roland.  "I have brought you some beautiful ferns
+and mosses, and when I come again, I will expect to see
+the basket."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can make two, Roland, one for each window in the
+drawing room; Madeline will be so pleased,&mdash;they are both
+for her."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come, Effie, let us sing our mother's favorite hymn,"
+and the orphans sang with sweet voices, and full hearts,
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "God of our fathers, by whose care,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thy people still are blest;<br>
+  Be with us through our pilgrimage,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Conduct us to our rest."<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, sister, let me go for one minute up the staircase;
+don't come with me, I want to be alone."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland stood upon the landing, and listened to the sweet
+murmurs of the Eolian harp.  The summer wind swept
+lightly over the strings, and seemed to sigh, "farewell,
+farewell;" but for a moment, a stronger breeze swept over
+them, and higher, fuller arose the aerial music, and "aloft,
+aloft" they whispered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He descended with a smile, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, dear Effie, I am ready; God forever bless my
+darling sister; don't forget 'Looking aloft!  Looking aloft.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She smiled through her tears, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'll try, dear Roland, but I am not so strong as you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Back again on the first day of the term, Roland was
+warmly welcomed by the faculty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He returned bravely, cheerfully, to his self-imposed
+service of drudgery; but the presence of many new members
+subjected him again to the same ordeal through which he
+had passed the first half of the former year.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The same diligence and fidelity, the same faithful friendship
+for Edmund, the same honors at the close, marked the
+second year; and at the period of vacation, another visit
+to dear Effie, to the familiar spots around Woodcliff, and he
+was anticipating a return for the last year to finish his
+college course.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You cannot imagine, dear brother, how delighted Madeline
+was with the baskets&mdash;'did he gather them with his
+own hands, Effie?' she used to ask me day after day, and
+I saw her place a few of the ferns which I had saved, away
+in one of her school books.  'Thank Roland for me,' was
+her last message; 'tell him I expect to see him a great
+man, delivering orations, or public speeches, at any rate, at
+Maple Lane, yet.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland smiled, as he said, "The same little enthusiast yet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Little! brother! why, you forget, you have not seen
+Madeline for two years; she is no longer a little girl; she
+is fifteen now, and unusually tall for that age.  I don't
+believe that you would call her Maddy now."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland's countenance fell; for this innocent hint had
+brought again most forcibly the conviction that the
+approach of womanhood was building a gulf which could not
+be passed, and the sweet intimacy of playful childhood
+could be no more renewed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His third year at college was a season of rapid progress.
+On his return, Dr. Kingsley sent for Roland to his private
+room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have been well tried, my son," said the good man.
+"I have looked upon your course, Roland, with pride;
+shall I say it to a boy? with reverence.  Not one of fifty
+would have borne the indignities of your position, and
+risen above them all, as you have; you shall be rewarded.
+The offices which you have performed so nobly will be
+given to another, little Jack, the Janitor's nephew, and
+another boy hired for the purpose; you, Roland, shall have
+all your time for study."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was a manly boy, but with a warm, tender heart.
+His eyes filled with tears of gratitude.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Seizing Dr. Kingsley's hand, he pressed a warm kiss upon
+its wrinkled surface, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Words cannot thank you, Dr. Kingsley, for all your
+goodness; the training of this college is more than a
+fortune to me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You must not lavish all your thanks upon me, Roland.
+Edmund Norris has told me all your trials, all the insults
+which you formerly received; he has told me of all your
+patient endurance, and noble return of good for evil.
+Mrs. Norris is wealthy, she has offered to place you exactly by
+the side of her son, bearing all your expenses, and occupying
+the same room.  I judged you by myself, and thought
+that you would rather be indebted to the college.  You
+will occupy the room with Edmund; but we must have the
+honor of educating Roland Bruce."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will be repaid, my dear sir, for all your kindness
+and delicacy.  Oh! how faithful are the promises of God:
+'Looking aloft' was the motto which my dear mother left
+me on her death-bed; I have tried to act upon it; and
+endeavoring to do my duty, have looked upward for God's
+blessing, and have never been disappointed."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Dr. Kingsley straitened himself up, put on a sterner look,
+took off his spectacles, that seemed suddenly to become
+moistened, and jerking his handkerchief out of his pocket,
+blew his nose violently, saying,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have a bad cold, Roland; I don't know how it came,
+but I did not feel it until you came into the room."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland smiled, for Dr. Kingsley did not like it to be
+known what a warm sympathetic heart beat under that
+cold, and somewhat stern exterior.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland's position, this year, was a happy one; and
+Edmund was about as much the gainer as he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Rooming together, Roland's powerful example was a
+strong incentive to the young man; and though often tempted
+to relax, what at first was a severe task, became first a
+habit, then a pleasure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A secret plot for some forbidden pleasure was again
+agitating among the wild ones.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You need not ask Ned Norris to join us," said one of
+his former companions, "he's among the saints now; he
+dare not say that his life is his own when Roland Bruce is
+about.  I don't care much about his company, but it is
+deucedly inconvenient to miss his purse, it was always
+open in former days&mdash;but old 'Boots' has the charge of him
+now, and there is no use of asking him to join this spree."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you dare call him 'Boots' again?" said Stanley,
+doubling his fist, "I told you all that I'd knock the first
+fellow down that insults Roland Bruce; there is not one
+here fit to wipe his shoes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How came you to turn round so soon, Stanley? you
+were among the most bitter of his enemies," said Thornton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When you all stood off from me as if I were a leper,
+Roland Bruce quietly, nobly took care of me; he watched
+me on my sick bed, as if I had been his friend, instead of
+his enemy; and do you think that I'll ever hear you speak
+against such a fellow as that?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The chief offender slunk away, evidently frightened.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You never told me so, Stanley; it must have been
+before I came."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I tell you now, Brown, Roland shall be treated as a
+gentleman, so long as I am in this college; so clear out, or
+I may knock you down."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Brown crawled away, and Roland was everywhere in
+the ascendant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Many envied him his quiet superiority; but all respected
+the studious youth that was carrying off so many of the
+honors.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His path was henceforth a pleasant one, until one
+morning, whom should he see among the new students but
+Harry Castleton and Charles Davenport!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland's appearance was that of a gentleman; for, although
+he had not the changes which some had, he always
+contrived to appear genteel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After breakfast, Roland advanced to the young men, and
+politely extended his hand.  Charles, with a supercilious
+air, turned on his heel, saying,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are mistaken, sir; we do not know you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland had acted the part of a gentleman and a Christian,
+and he left the young men to imagine that they had
+humbled him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They soon observed his intimacy with Edmund Norris,
+whose family they had met elsewhere.  Determined to annoy
+him still farther, they sought the first opportunity of
+speaking alone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you know this young Bruce?" said Harry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, sir, I have good cause to know him; he has saved
+me from many a false step and wicked companion."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you know his origin?" continued Harry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know that he is Scotch, and had a good mother."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"His mother was a common huckster, and he no better
+than a beggar; he lived in my uncle's neighborhood, and I
+have seen him many a time with old patched clothes, and
+scarcely a shoe to his feet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Indeed!" said Edmund.  "I know that he is very poor;
+he has told me much of his history.  You have told me
+now how poor he is&mdash;shall I tell you how noble he is in
+the estimation of all true hearts in this college?  You are
+at mean work, sir, but you will not harm Roland Bruce;
+he is above your mark, sir.  Good morning, Mr. Castleton."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edmund saw that the two were cultivating the intimacy
+of several of the upstart boys, sons of the merchant princes
+of New York, with gold watches, full purses, fashionable
+wardrobes, empty brains, and cold, sordid souls.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Brown was one of them&mdash;a mean, cowardly fellow, who
+had not forgotten the attack of Stanley, and was glad to
+find allies in the two new students.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There comes Boots," said Brown, one evening to Harry
+Castleton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Whom do you mean?" was the quick reply; and Brown
+pointed to Roland, who was walking in the lawn, arm in
+arm with Edmund Norris.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why do you call him 'Boots,' Brown?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'll whisper the story to you&mdash;do you know that in the
+first two years that he was here, he earned his education
+by blacking boots, carrying up wood, making fires, &amp;c., and
+now he has the presumption to hold himself up above us
+fellows, and the faculty really place him constantly before
+us as a pattern to follow."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is a good joke," answered Castleton; "I'll remember
+that story&mdash;a common boot-black! 'pon my word! brought
+here among gentlemen!  Faugh!  I shall smell boots
+every time I pass him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The next week, a drawing was on the wall in the passage
+to the recitation room, representing a boy blacking boots,
+and underneath written "Boots" at his profession; and
+another picture of a boy with a basket of boot-blacking and
+brushes, receiving a diploma; under which was written
+"Boots graduates, ready to practise on gentlemen's
+feet."  Roland and Edmund saw the low proceeding&mdash;they did not
+notice it; but, on going out of the hall, Castleton and
+Davenport passed close to the young men.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't you smell boots, Davenport?" said Castleton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stanley was near; he heard the insult, as also did Norris.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Instantly, the two were surrounded; and Stanley,
+enraged, said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will bear it no longer; you shall not insult Roland
+Bruce;" and he gave Castleton a violent blow in the face.
+Edmund, too, joined the fight.  Castleton and Davenport
+tried to defend themselves, but in vain; surrounded by
+several of the boys, they received a sound drubbing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was distressed&mdash;he was a brave boy, and though
+he knew that in the anger of the combatants he was likely
+to become entangled in the broil, he stepped forward, and
+placing himself between Edmund and Castleton, he said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Edmund, I beseech you, come with me; it is not worth
+minding&mdash;leave these boys to themselves; they do not
+harm me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Go away, Roland; I must punish them in a way which
+they will never forget."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland, however, persevered, and succeeded in drawing
+away his friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The boys each had black eyes, swollen faces, and torn
+coats for their reward.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They did not again try the same game, but their hatred
+of Roland was by no means lessened; it was rather
+increased.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The term drew rapidly to a close&mdash;Roland was looking
+forward anxiously to his embarkation on the theatre of
+human life.  He knew that he had nothing but his education,
+and simple trust in God.  That was enough for his
+confidence.  He graduated with high honors.  Edmund was
+to stay another year, and grieved to part with his friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Dr. Kingsley congratulated Roland warmly&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have done nobly, sir," said the President; "your
+friends may well be proud of you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You forget, my dear sir, I have but two, who care
+particularly for my success, and they are both young girls; one
+my sister, and the other a little friend."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The good President gave him warm parting counsels,
+and on shaking his hand for the last time, said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Remember, you have friends at college; your Alma
+Mater will always be proud of her son."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The young men were all busily occupied, and full of eager
+anticipations.  Vacation had arrived, and all had some dear
+home circle waiting for them, but Roland.  He had none;
+and, on the waste of life, sometimes he could not but feel
+like a waif among the multitude, but never long.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Looking aloft" was the general tone of his brave spirit.
+With five dollars in his pocket-book, he prepared to leave
+the college; and, on opening it, he found ten dollars more,
+with the pencilled words&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have been a faithful banker; accept this from Edmund."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Taking leave of his kind friends, he turned his face
+towards Woodcliff, and Effie looked with pride upon her dear
+brother, as she read the diploma over and over again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Would not our dear mother be happy, Roland?" said
+the young girl; "you have accomplished her desires; may
+all the rest be fulfilled, dear brother."
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap15"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XV.
+<br><br>
+STRIFE.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+"Where are you going, Roland?" asked Effie, with an
+anxious face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think to New York, sister."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have you any money, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But very little, sister, excepting in the bank of Heaven;"
+was the reply, and yet Roland smiled, it seemed so daring
+to set out on life's journey so penniless.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have five dollars, brother, you must take it; Miss
+Matilda gave it to me for some very fine work which I
+have just finished for Madeline;" and away ran Effie to
+bring her pocket-book, and attempted to empty its contents
+into Roland's hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland shrank from the gift.  "I have fifteen dollars,
+Effie, that must do until I reach the great city."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What do you expect to do, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall see when I reach New York."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How shall I write to you?  I shall be so anxious."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will write first, and let you know where I am."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Give me your valise, brother," and Effie placed in it
+some sandwiches, which she had prepared with her own
+little hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With a hasty farewell, and a brother's warm kiss,
+Roland turned his face towards the great metropolis, brave,
+hopeful, trusting, still "Looking aloft."  Oh! what need
+of the talisman now!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sometimes a good-natured farmer would give him a lift
+on the road; and, at the end of one week, he found himself,
+weary and lonely, entering the great city.  One dollar was
+all that was left in his pocket-book.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Rambling listlessly up Broadway, the multitude depressed
+him; for he felt himself friendless indeed, in this
+vast surging crowd.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Passing Trinity Church, he perceived it open, for it was
+the time of the evening service.  The sound of the organ
+cheered his spirits, and, joining in the solemn service, for
+awhile he forgot his worldly cares, and worshipped the
+Unseen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Perceiving a gentleman mounting the steeple, Roland
+followed, with the injunction from the sexton not to stay
+too long, for he should wish to close the church.  The
+gentleman took a hasty glance, but soon descended, leaving
+Roland to his meditations.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What a busy, bustling crowd below!  Did they, indeed,
+belong to the one great brotherhood of man?  Each one
+pushing his own way, apparently so regardless of his
+neighbor's motions; some to happy, smiling homes; some
+to dens of poverty and misery; many to haunts of sin.
+And the streets so filled with carts, carriages, omnibuses,
+and cars, all threading their way so skilfully through the
+thronged thoroughfare.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The solitudes of the grand mountains was to be alone
+with God; the dreariness of this human crowd was oppressive,
+and here, away in the lofty steeple, near the clouds,
+far above the din and press of this great multitude of
+humanity, he felt that he could breathe once more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Glancing over the vast city, the numerous steeples all
+around him reminded him that he was among Christians.
+"So many Christians!" thought Roland, "and not one
+knows me; but then every Sunday, in these houses dedicated
+to God, they pray for the fatherless and the homeless,
+and I am one."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So deeply was he engrossed in thought, and so soothing
+was the quiet of this retreat from the busy world, that
+Roland forgot how time was passing.  The crowd diminished,
+evening shadows rendered objects below somewhat
+indistinct, and the fair moon appeared to light the heavens.
+Sailing majestically along, sometimes hidden by clouds,
+then emerging again into all her calm beauty, Roland
+could not but compare her course to the journey of God's
+dear children through this wilderness: sometimes obscured
+by sorrow, yet always coming forth again into the calm,
+clear sky of perfect peace.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland remembered that he had no place where to lay
+his weary limbs that night, and he repeated some of the
+promises.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When my father and my mother forsake me, then the
+Lord will take me up."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The heavens seemed to smile upon him; he felt that he
+was God's own child, and repeated solemnly, "Our Father,
+who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom
+come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven, <i>give us
+this day our daily bread</i>," his heart was comforted; and he
+descended the dark stair-case with the same feeling of
+security as if he had pressed the hand of his Heavenly
+Father guiding him safely along.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When he reached the church, he found it locked; he had
+stayed so long, the sexton had forgotten him, but he was
+not afraid&mdash;afraid in God's dear house, with the soft, sweet
+moon shining on him through the stained window-glass!
+Oh! no&mdash;there was a sense of sweet security pervading
+his heart, and, laying himself down in one of the cushioned
+pews, he slept the sleep of perfect security in the Father
+above.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Locked up until the time for the morning service, the
+sexton was both surprised and displeased at the sight of
+the tenant in rich Mr. Seldin's pew.  Roland apologized,
+but the old man was surly, and hurried him out of the
+church.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was hungry and thirsty, so the first thing that he
+sought was some food.  Furnishing himself with some
+crackers and cheese, and refreshing himself with a drink
+of water, he commenced his first day's battle with life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Up and down the long, crowded streets, in the stores,
+at the offices, along the wharves, he sought in vain for
+some employment.  Hundreds of just such applications
+were refused daily.  All asked the name of some friend, he
+had none to give but Dr. Kingsley.  Some smiled at his
+answers when asked what he could do.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He could keep books, copy law-papers, go errands,
+clean pavements, sweep out offices, any thing that would
+give him the means of an honest livelihood."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Night came, but without a shelter.  It was late, and he
+was weary, so, turning into one of the market-houses, he
+had no other resource.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On one of the stalls lay a poor boy, pale and emaciated.
+Roland saw that he was sick, so placing his valise under
+his head, over which he had thrown some soft garment,
+he laid himself down to sleep by his brother's side.  "He
+has more need than I," thought Roland, as he resigned the
+softer pillow to the poor boy.  Presently a police-officer
+came along.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What are you about here, you young rascals?  Have
+you been out on a plundering job?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland raised his head and said, "I do not think, sir,
+that you will find this poor boy to be a vagrant; and, as
+for myself, I am poor and homeless, that is all."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"New York is a bad place for a young chap like you to
+be in, without a home."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know it, sir; I have walked all day, searching for
+work, but have found none; can you tell me what to do?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I saw an advertisement for a boy in a printer's office,
+perhaps you may do; but I am afraid that you are too
+old."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If you will be so good as to give me the direction, I
+will go in the morning, and see what success I shall have."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After eating sparingly of his little stock, Roland started
+to find the printer's office.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We do not take boys without references; you are too
+old for us at any rate," and Roland was disappointed again.
+Roving about, he asked permission to saw wood, to clean
+pavements, and obtained a few such jobs; but his heart
+was sinking; the promises were fading, and, at the close
+of the third day, wearied and heart-sick, the same officer
+met Roland again in the same market-place.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What! my boy, still roving about?" said the man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have walked for three days, and all that I could find
+to do was to saw some wood, and to clean a few pavements.
+I have but a few cents left, where shall I turn?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come home with me, I believe that you are an honest
+boy; you shall not sleep out in the street again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And Richard Green took Roland with him to his
+comfortable little home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here, wife, give this poor fellow a good supper and a
+comfortable bed, he has come to this great city without
+money or friends; we must do something for him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Martha Green was a rough woman, with a kind, womanly
+heart; she had a son, about Roland's age, away at sea,
+and she wiped her eyes with her hard, wrinkled hand, as
+she asked,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have you a mother, my son?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The question opened the flood-gates penned up in the
+poor youth's heart, and, manly as he was, weakened by
+suffering and hunger, he could not restrain the tears that
+would burst forth, as he replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, Mrs. Green, my mother is in heaven; I should be
+doubly grieved if I thought that she knew of the trials of
+these few hard days."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The good woman busied herself about the neat kitchen,
+and soon invited Roland to a warm and comfortable meal.
+A cup of warm coffee, some nicely cooked meat and potatoes,
+with home-made bread and butter, was a luxury which
+he had not seen for weeks; and when, at last, he lay
+down in the snug room on a clean bed, with everything
+around him so comfortable, language could not express the
+gratitude which filled his heart at the gracious answer to
+his prayer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Cheered by the sympathy of these humble friends,
+Roland set out again with renewed hope.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Rambling about from street to street, his eye was at
+length attracted by a sign, which directed him to the
+"Noon-day Prayer Meeting."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Taking his seat among the worshippers, he was pleased
+to see Richard Green, his humble friend, among the
+company.  He felt that God was there, and deeply, earnestly,
+did Roland pray for guidance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was glad to see you there, Richard," said Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, you see, my son, I've been one of the roughs in
+my time; but, since I've been coming here, I find that
+there's something else to do in this world beside getting
+bread and meat.  I see a great deal in my line to make
+me hate the ways of sin, for it always brings misery; so
+I've given up all my bad ways, and, by the help of God,
+I'm bound for Canaan."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They walked back again to the officer's home, and, picking
+up the paper, Roland perceived an advertisement&mdash;"Wanted,
+a boy to clean a lawyer's office, go errands, etc.,
+with the privilege of reading law in the office."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After dinner, he called upon Mr. Dean.  He was questioned
+closely as to his previous knowledge, his handwriting,
+etc.  Roland showed his letter from Dr. Kingsley,
+speaking in the highest terms of his character and
+acquirements.  Mr. Dean was a shrewd man, and soon made an
+engagement with Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Grateful to his dear Heavenly Father, Roland passed a
+happy day, and wrote immediately to Effie, telling her of
+his good fortune, and giving her his direction.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ere entering upon his labors, he walked down to the
+Battery.  All was so refreshing&mdash;the quiet water
+so peaceful, its gentle murmurs calmed his fevered brow,
+and, "Looking aloft" once more with cheerful hope, he
+mused gratefully upon the past, hopefully upon the future.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How I should like Madeline to know something of my
+good fortune," thought he; "but would I like her to know
+of my poverty? my misery?  Would I like her to know
+that I had to sleep out two nights in the market-house,
+and then dependent for shelter on a police officer?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland winced under these bitter thoughts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The gulf is wide, indeed&mdash;when she emerges into the
+gay world, she will forget the poor boy at Woodcliff."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The next morning, Roland entered upon his duties;
+they were endless&mdash;cleaning the office, making fires,
+running errands, copying law papers, early and late, left but
+little time for reading law; perhaps one hour a day was
+all that he could save from his unceasing toil.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Having considerable literary taste, he wrote frequently,
+after retiring at night, articles for the daily press.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They always seemed acceptable, and the Editor, who
+really delighted to encourage young genius, advertised,
+"If the person, writing over the signature of Randolph,
+will call at the office, he will hear something to his
+advantage."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland called&mdash;the Editor was interested.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You must not write, my young friend, gratuitously.  I
+will compensate you for your articles; send me a weekly
+contribution, and I will remunerate you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was surprised and grateful&mdash;not aware of his
+own merits, he had regarded these efforts simply as means
+of improvement, and had not dreamed of compensation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He made the agreement with the Editor, and then, being
+questioned as to his present employment, his kind friend
+saw that he was overworked, and undervalued.  In a week
+or two, the friendly editor sent for Roland again, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have spoken to a distinguished lawyer of this city,
+who is fond of bringing out young men; he is interested
+in your story, and if you will wait a few minutes, he will
+call here."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a short time, a gentleman, with a manly bearing, and
+a bright, quick glance, entered the office.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A short conversation with Roland completed the agreement,
+and, as he was only engaged temporarily at Mr. Dean's,
+it was soon announced that he must get another in
+his place, for in a week more he would leave for a more
+lucrative situation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland soon found himself among people infinitely more
+refined, for Edgar and Helen Thornly were both attractive
+young persons.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edgar had just returned from college; a gay young
+fellow, whose chief occupation in life was the pursuit of
+pleasure; and Helen, a lovely young girl, not long home
+from boarding-school.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Treated in all respects as an equal, he found the home
+circle at Mr. Thornly's peculiarly agreeable, and in return
+for these benefits, rendered at all times most faithful
+service to his generous employer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland often felt concerned for the petted son of Mr. Thornly;
+for furnished constantly with a full purse, he had
+ample opportunity of enjoying the pleasures of the gay
+world, and was becoming very rapidly one of the fast young
+men of New York.  It was true that he had a desk at his
+father's office, but it was seldom occupied for any length
+of time by the young man; for late hours at night made
+corresponding hours in the morning; and, in the afternoon,
+a drive with a fast horse generally closed the day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Thornly occasionally remonstrated.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Just wait a little, father; you know that I have been
+shut up so long at college, that it seems hard to go to work
+as soon us I come home.  I will be a smart lawyer yet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Brother," said Helen, "whom do you think I met to-day
+in Broadway? my old school-friend, Madeline Hamilton;
+she is in New York, spending the Christmas vacation
+with Mary Trevor."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Won't you invite her here, sister?  I feel quite anxious
+to see your 'queen of beauty.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You need not try to captivate Madeline; she is as proud
+as Juno, and so far, quite indifferent to beaux."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She'll have plenty of admirers, sis, when she bursts
+upon the world with all her wealth and beauty."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland heard the announcement of her presence in New
+York with mingled feelings&mdash;she was a young lady now,
+how would she meet the old friend of his childish days?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Roland, are you fond of music?" asked young Thornly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Extravagantly, but I have never heard any of the
+celebrated singers."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We are going to the opera to-night; will you
+accompany us?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was a novice in the world of New York, and
+thinking only of the music, he consented, and accompanied
+the party.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bewildered at first with the delicious music, he scarcely
+thought of the adjuncts; but the uncovered forms, the freedom
+of the actresses, the sentiments of the opera translated
+into English, shocked his sense of delicacy; and when he
+looked around at the crowds of fair young faces, looking
+and listening without a blush to much that was enacting
+before them, he felt convinced that this was no place for a
+Christian youth, and resolved accordingly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Near them, was seated a party of young persons deeply
+interested in the performance.  One especially attracted
+him&mdash;the deep blue eyes, the profusion of soft brown hair,
+the sweet expressive mouth, were certainly like those of his
+little friend; but in the tall, graceful girl before him, he
+scarcely could believe the evidence of his senses, when the
+silvery voice revealed fully Madeline Hamilton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had not seen her for four years, and the sparkling,
+bewitching child had merged into the lovely, blushing
+maiden of sixteen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+During one of the recesses between the acts she arose,
+and stood facing the party near her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland caught her eye; she looked earnestly, then
+smiled, and, with a bow of high-bred courtesy, recognized
+her old friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland felt that Madeline was no longer a child; he
+returned her bow with equal politeness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next morning, at breakfast, Helen discussed with her
+father all her arrangements for an evening party the
+following week.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland made one of the company, and watched anxiously
+for each arrival, expecting every minute to see the friend
+of his childhood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A ringing silvery laugh, as tripping feet passed up the
+staircase to deposit her wrappings, announced the presence
+of Madeline, the little Mad-cap of the sea-shore.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She entered&mdash;a simple girlish dress became the young
+maiden; for she remembered that she was yet a school-girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She bowed gracefully when introduced to the company&mdash;a
+bright blush and a smile acknowledged the acquaintance
+of Roland Bruce.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He advanced&mdash;"How are you, Miss Madeline?  It has
+been a long time since I saw you.  When did you arrive
+in New York?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A casting down of the eyes, and the slightest quiver of
+a mischievous smile, crossed the bright young face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Last week, Mr. Bruce.  I am spending my vacation
+with my friend, Miss Trevor."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When do you expect to return?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In about ten days.  One more year will complete my
+school-life."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then for the gay world, I suppose, Miss Madeline;"
+and Roland smiled somewhat sadly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, that is our intention.  We shall spend my first
+winter in New York."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have not forgotten the lessons at Woodcliff, I trust,
+Miss Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline turned her face away, and bending her eyes
+upon the ground, said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I must speak the truth; I fear, that those lessons have
+lost much of their power."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are you happy now as then, Miss Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not when I stop to think; but I have not much time
+for that."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Listening seriously to Roland's earnest words, with eyes
+bent, and hands folded reverently as of yore, the Roland
+and Madeline of Maple Lane School stood once more revealed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline, the piano is waiting for you," said Helen;
+and leading her young friend to the instrument, she
+interrupted the conversation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Dashing off into one of the most beautiful of the many
+variations of fine old pieces, she ran through several
+brilliant compositions, until at the close of "Auld Lang Syne,"
+she accompanied it with her charming voice, in all the
+melting tenderness of former days.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was inexpressibly touched.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She has not quite forgotten those early days," thought
+the youth.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edgar Thornly gave his father much uneasiness, for his
+indolence increased, his nightly dissipations became more
+reckless&mdash;moreover, he seemed gloomy and abstracted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One day, a gentleman called to pay Mr. Thornly a fee
+of two hundred dollars.  He placed it in his desk, and
+put the key in his pocket.  Roland and Edgar were both
+present.  It was the duty of the former to lock the office
+every evening; but on this occasion Edgar tarried.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is it not time to lock the office?" said Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I suppose so," was the answer; but still he lingered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last Roland said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have an engagement, Edgar, and must lock up."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can't I do it, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, Edgar, your father directed me to see it locked
+always before I leave."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are mighty particular, Roland;" and, taking his
+hat, Edgar left the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just before Roland closed the office finally, James, the
+waiter, entered the room to replenish the fire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Be quick, James, I have an engagement."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The man soon finished his work, and left the room.
+Roland locked the door, and took his departure, placing
+the key in his pocket.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The next morning, Mr. Thornly wanted the money; on
+opening the desk, the lock was picked, and the money
+gone&mdash;who could have taken it?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The waiter was called, and inquiries made of him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The last one I saw there was Mr. Bruce," said the
+man; "nobody has been there since."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edgar testified the same.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I saw it just before I left the room," said Roland.  "I
+saw you put the money in the drawer, Mr. Thornly; I was
+the last person in the office; I locked the door and put the
+key in my pocket; when I looked for the key this morning
+it was gone, and when I went down to the office, it was
+already open."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was up first this morning," said the cook; "I was
+in the cellar under the office, I heard some one moving
+about in stocking feet; I thought it was very early, but I
+supposed it was Mr. Bruce, and did not go to see who was
+there."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland <i>could have told</i> that he saw one of Edgar's
+embroidered slippers close by the office door, and that when
+he entered, the gas was left burning, and a knife, which he
+had often seen Edgar use, lying under the table.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland felt the perplexity of his situation; he knew that
+suspicion pointed towards him, but he could not clear
+himself without involving his employer's son.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just as he felt himself so happily, so usefully employed,
+it was a hard thing to be cast again upon the world, and
+under such circumstances.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The breakfast was eaten in silence; the business of the
+day pursued in the same formal manner.  Edgar avoided
+being alone with Roland, and the atmosphere of the whole
+house was stifling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Before closing the office, Roland begged for a few minutes
+conversation with Mr. Thornly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I feel the terrible suspicion which rests upon me,
+Mr. Thornly; I cannot stay here, a suspected man; painful as
+the task is, I must go."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is doubtless so; but, Mr. Bruce, I have placed
+unlimited confidence in you, sir; I know not what to think."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your confidence has never been abused, sir; the day
+will come when my innocence shall be established; in the
+meanwhile, I can wait."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What will you do, sir, without a reference?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do not know; but you will not make the affair
+public? let me beg of you for many reasons not to do so."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I promise you not to do so; but do not send any one
+to me until the affair is cleared up, I cannot recommend
+you; it is all a mystery."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are not going, Roland?" said Helen Thornly; "I
+can't bear to see you so insulted, so wronged."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, Miss Helen; but you must see that circumstances
+around me are very dark&mdash;I can only declare my
+innocence, and leave it all for Providence to proclaim my
+honor."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My father will be the loser, Roland; I have my own
+thoughts, and I will never rest until I find out the truth."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It has been a pleasant home, Miss Helen, but I must
+leave it; my dear mother left me a precious motto on her
+  eath-bed, 'Looking aloft.'  It has comforted me in many<br>
+a weary hour; it is my refuge now."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Packing up his clothes immediately, he took a respectful
+leave of all, thanking Mr. Thornly for all his kindness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It will be right some day, Mr. Thornly; I can trust
+and wait," were Roland's last words.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Out again upon the cold world, Roland deposited his
+clothes with his friend Richard Green, and, weary and sad,
+walked down to the Battery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had not paced the bank long, when Madeline, in
+company with several gay young friends, passed by; her
+careless, joyous laugh jarred upon his lacerated feelings,
+and her ceremonious salutation completed the depression
+of that weary day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Could she have known the sorrow of that noble heart,
+would she have passed so coldly?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No&mdash;although the poison of a letter received that day,
+from Lavinia Raymond, rankled in her proud young heart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland paced the bank until midnight&mdash;midnight around,
+and midnight within the tried young spirit; for faith could
+not grasp the promises at once, in that hour of anguish.
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap16"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XVI.
+<br><br>
+RUGGED HILLS FOR WEARY FEET.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+Homeless once more, Roland sought an humble refuge,
+in the house of his friend, the good police officer.  Aware
+of the difficulties which would beset his path, he shrank
+from encounters with the rough world; for what could one
+expect who had left an office like Mr. Thornly's suddenly,
+and could bring no reference?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He made the effort day after day, and although there
+was so much in his whole bearing that was prepossessing,
+none were willing to run the risk.  Never had his prospects
+appeared so discouraging, and never had he greater need
+of all the support of the sweet talismanic words which had
+guided and strengthened him so long.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Devoting more time to his pen, his contributions to the
+press were more frequent, and this resource was just now
+invaluable, as it really did provide his daily food.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In these days of darkness, Roland never passed the poor
+news boys, or any who earned a precarious living in the
+streets, without feelings of warmer, deeper interest.
+Sometimes he would stop to look at some little, tired wanderer,
+ragged, pale, friendless, sleeping perhaps in a packing-box,
+in the market stalls, or wherever he could find shelter from
+the weather, and he would often ask himself,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can I do nothing for these poor, homeless children?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He weighed the matter seriously, and turned attention
+to the subject, in the articles which he contributed to the
+daily press.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Writing from a full heart, that had passed through these
+sorrows himself, his words were eloquent; and on making
+an appeal to any who would be willing to aid in procuring
+home and shelter for these poor outcasts, to meet him at
+his humble lodgings, he waited anxiously for some response.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A week passed.  At length a thoughtful-looking man,
+with very plain garb, sought him at the place appointed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have been interested in your articles, young man; I
+came to ask what would you propose?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I scarcely know, sir; but the misery and exposure of
+this class haunt me daily, nightly.  I have been told that
+there are three thousand.  In a great city like this, there
+should be a home for such."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are you aware that much money would be needed to
+provide one?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know that, sir; but if it is the Lord's directing, He
+will provide the money, if we will only use the means."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have you time at your disposal?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have a great deal just now, and will do any thing that
+you propose."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"First, tell me your name."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is Roland Bruce; I can show you a letter from the
+President of the college where I graduated."  And trusting
+the plain, honest, benevolent face, he told his story to
+the good man, not even reserving the trial at Mr. Thornly's.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mark Grafton was a keen physiognomist, and an eccentric
+man; he smiled when he read the letter, for he had
+fully made up his mind before to trust the open
+countenance, and fine clear eye of Roland Bruce.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What I propose is this: I will give you a list of names
+of influential men, who I know will give their aid in a
+cause like this; you will call on them in my name, and
+report progress to me every evening."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was delighted; here was an opportunity to
+occupy his time with useful employment, to benefit a class
+for whom his heart had often bled.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He commenced his work with a sanguine, hopeful heart.
+"Looking aloft," for God's especial blessing, he set out
+with a bright, animated countenance, and a brisk, elastic
+step.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Praying daily for guidance, and leaving the cause of his
+acquittal in the hands of the just and wise, and gracious
+Disposer of human events, he was willing to leave the time
+in God's own hands; the event he knew was sure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was generally successful&mdash;many contributed largely
+of their means, for he found that the name of Mark Grafton
+was everywhere a sufficient recommendation.  A few
+presented a cold shoulder, but he had every reason to be
+grateful, when at the end of a week, he numbered on his list
+some two hundred subscribers.  Mr. Grafton was more
+than gratified, he was sanguine as to the result.  As soon
+as five hundred subscribers were obtained, they would
+commence operations.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A house was rented, provided with plain comforts which
+to houseless wanderers would appear like luxuries; a
+matron placed at the head, and then came the work of
+gathering the outcasts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An advertisement was placed in the daily papers, and
+several placards on the corners of the streets.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If boys who clean crossings, or sell matches and newspapers,
+will meet this evening at No. 42 M&mdash;&mdash; street, they
+will find something to their advantage."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Grafton and Roland waited anxiously&mdash;about half a
+dozen came; accustomed so long to a roving life of
+freedom, many thought that the advertisement pointed to
+something which might restrain their liberty, and therefore
+looked suspiciously at the notice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Grafton explained his plans to the boys.  Each one
+connected with the home, must contribute one dollar per
+week of his earnings, which would be put by in a fund for
+his own especial benefit, when he should reach mature
+years.  So vicious themselves, they were slow to believe
+in the truth or honesty of their fellows, and not one at
+first could be found to agree to the plan proposed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I give you a week to think about it, boys&mdash;you can stay
+here all the time, and weigh the difference between a
+comfortable home, where you will be provided with good
+reading, careful instruction, pleasant recreations, and the
+power of laying by some of your money; compare this
+with a roving life among vicious boys, who often rob you,
+and who are leading you away farther and farther from
+ways of peace and respectability, until at last, you may
+end your days in a prison, and spend eternity with the lost
+and degraded; if you cannot come into all our arrangements
+at the close of this week, you must depart, and we
+offer the same to others."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The boys listened carefully, but doubtingly.  Roland
+spent as much of his time with them as he could spare
+from his daily duties connected with the Home, and with
+his pen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Generally in the evening, he came and talked with them
+for a couple of hours, listening to their accounts of the
+day's labors, and reading to them some interesting matter.
+He was taking care of his Master's cause among these poor
+forsaken children, and God was taking care of his.  Did he
+doubt it?  No&mdash;not for one moment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Time sped on; by degrees, the number of boys increased;
+they were gaining confidence in their kind friends.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland took up his abode among these waifs of humanity.
+Many trials beset his path, many discouragements; for the
+deep depravity of a whole life, short though it might have
+been of these juvenile transgressors, was not to be rooted
+out in a day, a week, or even a year.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Habit was a strong giant that required the strong
+antagonism of stalwart efforts; and blow after blow must be
+levelled against the monster in the strength of Gospel
+warfare, ere he would show signs of yielding to the attacks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Roland's manliness and benevolence were really
+undermining the citadel of sin, and in a few months he began
+to see the fruit of their labors.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+About fifty boys were now inmates of the Home; they
+were cleanly, interested in their mental improvement,
+regular in their attendance upon Gospel ministrations every
+Sunday; and although, now and then, their hopes were
+disappointed by the absconding of several, still their
+progress was onward.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Let us turn for one moment to Mr. Thornly.  From the
+day that Roland left the office, Edgar's spirits drooped.
+Helen watched him closely; her room was adjoining his;
+and often, late in the night, she could hear him pacing his
+room, and groaning, as if in great distress of mind.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Once she opened the door&mdash;Edgar was tossing about, and
+talking in his sleep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Go away, Jones," muttered the youth, "I can't get the
+money; two hundred dollars! two hundred dollars!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Helen's heart sank within her.  She had sore misgivings
+about her brother, but what was she to do?  Could she
+accuse him without farther proof?  Could she bear to see
+Roland suffering so wrongfully?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Still her brother continued his late hours; seldom in
+before one or two o'clock in the morning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Every few days, a man would call to see him; and Edgar
+always appeared gloomy and distressed after these visits.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Several times he was out; and when Helen asked the
+name of the person who called so frequently, she found to
+her grief that it was Jones.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last, he asked to see Mr. Thornly; then came the
+dreadful disclosure.  Edgar had been gambling to a large
+amount, and was indebted to this man several thousand
+dollars.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Thornly was horror-struck; Edgar bowed down to
+the dust in shame; Helen overpowered with grief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It has come at last, brother.  I knew that some
+dreadful grief was approaching&mdash;but is there not something
+worse than all, that is not yet revealed?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edgar turned his blood-shot eyes upon his sister.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What do you mean, Helen?  Do you mean to crush
+me entirely?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, Edgar, I do not; but I want you to commence anew&mdash;give
+up all your bad associates&mdash;do justice to one that
+you have wronged."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edgar bowed his head upon his hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I wish that I were dead, Helen; I am too wretched!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Edgar, can you not tell me something about the two
+hundred dollars that sent poor Roland away?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edgar was silent; he groaned bitterly; and striking his
+head with anguish, he paced the floor in agony.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can endure this no longer, Helen; I took that money;
+I was threatened by Jones with exposure, and I took it;
+how it has burned me ever since!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Shall I tell our father, Edgar? it is better for all to
+come out."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do what you please, Helen; I must have relief."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Helen had a hard task to perform, but she was a true
+sister, and saw no other path by which Edgar could retrace
+his steps.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Thornly was almost paralyzed&mdash;but reproach was
+not to be used towards a spirit so crushed as Edgar's; he
+was suffering enough of agony.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His had been the error of a weak and yielding nature,
+furnished too abundantly the means of indulgence, rather
+than the deep duplicity of an accomplished villain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Justice must be done to Roland," was the first response
+of Mr. Thornly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the next morning, Roland's eye caught the following
+notice: "If Roland G. B&mdash;&mdash;, will call at the office of
+Mr. Thornly, he will hear something important."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The day of deliverance," thought Roland; and, taking
+his hat, with a joyful step and overflowing heart, he made
+his way to Mr. Thornly's office.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His former employer was seated at his desk.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have proofs of your innocence, Roland, and I have
+sent for you to do you justice;" then, with a sadly grieved
+and humbled spirit, the father recounted the story in as
+few words as possible.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I knew that my innocence would be proved," answered
+the youth, "and I left my cause with God."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Had you any idea of the truth at that time, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I had, sir; I saw Edgar's slipper near the door, and
+found his knife under the table, with which he had picked
+the lock.  I saw his depression for days before, and I
+supposed that some debt was pressing heavily upon him,
+which he could not discharge."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And you bore all this quietly, gave up a promising
+situation, left a comfortable home, and went out upon the
+world friendless, homeless, without a character, rather
+than expose my son, or pain his father's heart.  Truly, yours
+is conduct not often met with in this cold and selfish
+world."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It was my duty, sir; I could do nothing else; there
+were only suspicious circumstances, not actual proof."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And what have you been doing in the meanwhile?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I could obtain no employment among lawyers, I have
+therefore been writing for the press; and been busy in
+establishing a home for friendless boys, like myself."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you mean the one in which Mark Grafton is interested?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do, sir; it has been a great blessing to me, for instead
+of dwelling upon my own griefs, I have been trying to
+lighten those of others, more oppressed than myself."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Thornly was silent for a moment.  He was a worldly
+man, but this exhibition of Christian principle stirred up
+the fountains of his heart.  Extending his hand, he said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Roland, can I ask you to come back again, after all
+that has passed?  It would be to me a personal favor."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am but too happy, sir, to take my old desk; I believe
+that the finger of Providence has pointed me here, and I
+trust that we shall be mutual blessings to each other."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will you forgive my poor son, Roland? he is humbled
+to the dust."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Forgive! certainly, sir; nothing is more easy, nothing
+more delightful."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will you do more?  I believe that this deep disgrace
+will be the turning point of a new life with Edgar, if we
+only encourage him; will you be his friend, Roland?"
+said Mr. Thornly, laying his hand upon the young man's
+shoulder, and looking in his face with a father's pleading
+eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You may trust me, sir," was the frank, noble answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next morning, Roland took his place in the office once
+more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His meeting with Edgar was most painful.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Say nothing, Edgar," was Roland's first salutation,
+when the young man sat down, covering his face with his
+hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know all&mdash;words are unnecessary; all is forgiven,
+entirely buried between us; henceforth I am your friend."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh!  Roland Bruce, language cannot tell what a cordial
+those few words are to me.  I feel so desponding, so
+crushed; I have no companions, I go nowhere."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is better just now, Edgar; but after a little while,
+you will come and read law with me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edgar spent all his time in the office.  Roland provided
+him, at first, with pleasant reading; then, by degrees, he
+proposed the course which he had pursued himself.  Edgar
+was but too willing to be guided by such a hand, and
+Mr. Thornly and Helen looked on with speechless gratitude.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was still interested in his homeless boys, and
+paid his periodical evening visits.  It was, indeed, a
+comfort to see what a marked change was observed in so
+many.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One day, he was greatly surprised on perceiving a letter
+addressed to him in printed characters.  On opening it,
+there was a check for one hundred dollars, for the "Home,"
+"from one deeply interested."  Where could it come from?
+was his question.  Could it be from Madeline?  How
+would she know about his actions?  Suddenly it occurred
+to him that Helen corresponded with her, and the thought
+that she might be thus a fellow laborer with him was very
+sweet, and he encouraged the fancy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was, indeed, a turning point in Edgar Thornly's
+life&mdash;from this time, his whole course was changed, and
+his grateful father could not by words thank his young
+mentor; actions proved his gratitude.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the close of the second year, Roland was admitted to
+the bar.  Mr. Thornly threw all the business in his way
+that could be thus controlled, and Roland's course was
+upward and onward.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Twice had he visited Effie during this period, found her
+happy, but with very weak eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline was never at home when he paid his visits;
+therefore, she seemed to him almost like one from whose
+society he was finally shut out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Practice increased&mdash;his sound learning, practical common
+sense, and deep investigation into the science of law,
+opened a path of usefulness and honor.  It could, however,
+never be said of Roland Bruce, that he was the lawyer
+sought out by low criminals, or whose influence could be
+purchased to legalize crime; for, though heavy fees were
+offered by such, knowingly, he would not stoop to practices
+so degrading.  He soon obtained the name of "the honest
+lawyer," and none were more proud of his rising influence
+and talents, than the generous man who had afforded him
+so many facilities in his upward course.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is an important case, Roland," said Mr. Thornly,
+after he had described to the latter, what had been placed
+in his hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The man had been charged with murder, and the circumstances
+by which he was surrounded were overwhelming
+in their proofs against him.  By skillfully managing the
+case, and obtaining delay, proofs establishing his innocence
+were obtained at a time when all around the poor man was
+darkest.  The accused man was one universally esteemed;
+the joy felt at his acquittal was so intense, that, throughout
+the city, the press complimented the young lawyer for the
+ingenuity with which he had conducted the trial.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This success brought him into public notice, and restored
+to the arms of an only and heart-broken daughter, the
+parent whom she loved.  A paper containing the account
+was sent to Effie, and, handing it to Madeline, who was
+then at home, the sister's heart was cheered by the
+warm embrace with which Maddy congratulated the dear
+girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Did I not say, Effie, that Roland would live to be a
+great man yet?  Won't we be happy to see him here
+among the Beltons and the Smiths?  Effie, do you know
+why he seems to have forgotten his old friend?" (for a
+minute she hesitated, and then continued with an averted
+face,) "does he ever mention Helen Thornly in his
+letters?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O yes! very often, Madeline; he says she is such a
+lovely girl, he wishes that I knew her; she is a dear friend
+of his."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So I have heard, Effie," and Madeline said no more;
+but, opening the piano, she played several of her old pieces,
+but especially the favorite "Auld Lang Syne;" then,
+walking out to the garden, she plucked a rose from her
+favorite bush, and proceeding back into the house, and up
+the stair-case, she stopped to listen to the strains of her
+Eolian harp.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It discoursed sad music that night, or was it the echo of
+her own spirit?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I did not think that he would have forgotten me so
+soon," murmured Madeline; "but so it is, present friends
+obliterate the memory of the absent.  I must try to
+forget him; but I cannot quite forget the holy teachings of
+my young days, nor would I if I could&mdash;may they remain
+forever!"
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap17"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XVII.
+<br><br>
+MIRAGE, OR MADELINE AFTER A TRIUMPH.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+"Well, daughter, I suppose that I must leave my
+retirement, for this winter at least," said Mr. Hamilton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So you promised, papa; I am looking forward to the
+season with great expectations.  Mary Trevor is impatient
+for us to come early, she has so much in store for me.
+There are Mrs. Peyton, and Mrs. Rossiter, and Mrs. Starr,
+all waiting anxiously for us; they give such elegant parties,
+papa."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Hamilton looked with an expression of proud exultation
+upon his beautiful daughter, and anticipated the sensation
+that the advent of such a bright star would make in
+the world of fashion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline was full of eager anticipation, but not heartless;
+she really regretted the parting with Effie, and the
+loneliness which she knew the young girl would suffer
+during her absence; for Mr. Hamilton and Aunt Matilda
+would both accompany the young heiress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am sorry, Effie, to leave you; but the winter will
+soon pass; you will busy yourself with looking after the
+house, with your needle and your books; and write often,
+dear."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Effie sighed, as she almost whispered,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline, a great weight is on my heart; I find my
+eyes daily becoming more and more dim; if the outer
+world should all be dark to me, what a poor useless being
+I should be, and what a burden to my friends!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't imagine such an affliction, dear Effie; Dr. Jenks
+shall attend to your case at once; but do try to keep up
+your spirits.  I have often thought, Effie, that we ought to
+try to do something for the people in the neighborhood;
+there are several families that we have been accustomed to
+help; I will appoint you my almoner.  There are four old
+persons to be supplied with warm garments and coal for
+the winter; and three or four invalids that need weekly
+care.  Nanny makes gruel or other comforts for Mary
+Swain the cripple, and it would be a pleasure to me to know
+that they are all attended to."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Effie brightened at the prospect of such work, for
+employment like this was the element of her nature.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Take good care of my flowers, Effie, especially my
+rosebush, and when I come back, let me see some roses on
+your pale cheeks, dear."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will not forget me, dear friend, that I know," said
+Effie, folding her affectionately in her arms, and pressing
+a loving kiss upon her cheek, she whispered, "do not
+forget the Blessed Saviour, Madeline; you will be surrounded
+by a thousand temptations."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A tear glistened in Madeline's eye, but she dashed it
+aside, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Effie, don't be distressed about me; some of these days
+I will be just as good as you can wish, but I must have a
+peep at the gay world first."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Some of these days, Madeline; how little do we know
+about the days appointed us."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The day of departure arrived; the trunks were all
+strapped; Mr. Hamilton and Aunt Matilda seated in the
+carriage, and Madeline, folding her humble friend in her
+arms once more, took her seat by her father.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Farewell, Effie, be bright and cheerful, dear; we shall
+soon be back again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The young girl stood upon the piazza as long as she
+could see the carriage, and turning into the house with a
+sad heart, Effie sought and found the comfort that she
+needed, at the feet of her own dear Saviour.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Let us follow Madeline to the scene of her introduction
+into the gay world.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Established in an elegant suite of rooms in one of the
+most fashionable hotels in New York, Madeline and her
+aunt were busily occupied in giving orders for her winter
+outfit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was Aunt Matilda's element, and neither expense
+nor pains were spared on the wardrobe of the young lady.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Soon cards from the upper circles of the great metropolis
+multiplied in the card basket of our young novice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All was pleasure and excitement, and weeks were occupied
+in returning these numerous visits, and attending to
+milliners, dressmakers, &amp;c.  Madeline's first appearance
+for the season was at the ball of Mrs. Rossiter, one of the
+leaders of fashion in New York.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Attired in the most exquisite taste, for the first time her
+mother's diamonds adorned her person.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When she entered the elegant room, leaning upon the
+arm of her father, all eyes were turned towards her, in
+whispers of admiration.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As she passed, "Beautiful!" "exquisite!" "charming!"
+greeted her everywhere.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Let us be seated, papa," murmured Madeline, for the
+public gaze was oppressive.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was the centre of attraction the whole evening, her
+hand sought for in every dance; truly, the young girl was
+completely bewildered and intoxicated.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And so, night after night, the ovation of flattery was
+laid at the feet of Madeline Hamilton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Harry Castleton was among the most devoted of her
+admirers; but he was simply tolerated, for Madeline saw
+through the shallowness of his pretensions, and really
+pitied his contemptible folly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, papa, who do you think is the reigning star this
+winter?" said Helen Thornly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do not know much about the gay world now, daughter,
+for I tired of it long ago; but I suppose every season
+has its own particular star, that shines a little while, to be
+eclipsed by another."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline Hamilton is the theme of every tongue; her
+beauty, her wealth, her accomplishments, have made her
+all the ton&mdash;the beaux are crazy to be found in her train,
+and the belles are dying of envy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have you met her anywhere, Helen?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, papa, at Mrs. Trevor's&mdash;she is splendid in her
+point lace and diamonds.  I wish you could have seen her;
+and yet she does not seem vain.  She always was an
+artless, impulsive girl; but I think New York will spoil her
+simplicity."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland listened to the remarks, and felt a deeper sinking
+of the heart, as he realized the ordeal through which
+Madeline was passing; but still, remembering all the past, and
+the power of first impressions, he could look upward, and
+trust that she would yet come out unscathed.  Her world
+was entirely remote from his; they met but occasionally,
+and that in the street, but seldom at Mr. Thornly's.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The opera, balls, parties innumerable, engrossed her time,
+but was she happy?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Let us follow her awhile after her evening triumph.  She
+had spent the evening at Mrs. Starr's, one of the gayest
+parties of the season.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Magnificent dressing, the most costly viands of the table,
+the most fashionable band of music, scores of admirers, and
+strains of the most intoxicating flattery met her everywhere.
+Her triumph was complete.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Was Madeline happy?  To have looked at her bright
+young face beaming with smiles, to have listened to her
+musical laugh, and sparkling repartee, to have watched her
+light and airy motions in the graceful waltz, one would
+have pronounced her the gayest of the gay.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But there was a depth in the heart of Madeline Hamilton
+which could not be filled by these empty vanities, a thirst
+for a better life, which could never be satisfied with this
+mere mirage in the pilgrimage of an immortal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Wearied and heart-sick, she enters her dressing-room,
+and seating herself, commences disrobing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Unbinding her luxuriant hair, she lays aside the glittering
+ornaments and the faded flowers; leaning her head
+upon her hands, she weeps over the emptiness of her daily
+life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Placing her jewels in a small casket, she opens a little
+box in her writing-desk; reverently she turns over the
+leaves of an old book, revealing branches of withered
+seaweed; and in another corner of the desk, a cluster of
+common shells.  The sight of these simple things opens the
+flood-gates of her heart; and, pressing the sea-weed to her
+burning lips, she weeps in the anguish of her spirit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Memory is busy&mdash;back to the sea-shore, the Maple Lane
+School, the cemetery, the little cottage of the humble
+widow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The present is fading&mdash;she had had a distant view of the
+glittering world; she had longed for its pleasures; nearer
+and nearer had she approached the shining lake where she
+hoped to quench her thirst; but, stooping down to drink,
+she had found the world like the mirage in the burning
+sands of the desert, a mere illusion! a mighty cheat!
+O! for an hour of those early days! those simple childish
+pleasures!  O! for the teachings of that young Mentor, who
+so wisely controlled the impetuosity of her high spirit, and
+tamed the wilfulness of her proud young heart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She had listened to the tones of flattery, until they had
+palled upon her ear, and sickened her heart; and for one
+approving, yea, even one kind reproving glance of the dark
+eye of Roland Bruce, she would have given all, and more
+than all that the world had ever given her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She recalls the holy lessons that had led her young heart
+to think of better things.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She compares Roland's character with all that she had
+met in the gay world, and feels that was mere tinsel; his
+was pure and solid gold.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She touches the simple weeds with fond, caressing fingers,
+and almost resolves to turn away from the gay, glittering
+throng.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But alas! the friend of her youth is lost to her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She believes the tale that Lavinia has so often told, and
+almost envied Helen Thornly the daily companionship of
+such a spirit as the one that had forgotten her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But I may cherish these dear mementoes yet," sighed
+Madeline; "they speak of such holy, blessed things, that
+even the sight of them refreshes me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Placing them reverently in her desk, she commits
+herself to God's keeping, and retires to her rest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The world was fast losing its hold upon Madeline; the
+power of early teaching was returning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Papa, shall we go home early in the season?" said
+Madeline; "I long for Woodcliff."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Just as soon as you please, daughter; are you getting
+tired of the gayeties of New York?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am sick of them, papa; I would rather spend one
+month at Woodcliff now, where I could ramble by the old
+sea-shore, sail in my own boat on the clear lake, or ride
+dear old Selim up and down the lanes, as I used to when
+a child."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her father smiled, for he longed for the elegant
+retirement of his own home; but Aunt Matilda remonstrated.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Surely, brother, you will not allow Madeline to be so
+foolish; she might, at least, spend the whole season here."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She may do just as she pleases, Matilda," was the
+answer; "I am glad that she retains her love of domestic
+life, after all the gayety of this winter."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Matilda sought Mr. Hamilton's private ear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hope that you will not listen to Madeline's folly,
+brother, after going to so much expense in bringing her
+out, and when so many of the very first in the land are
+ready to lay their fortunes at her feet, here you are marring
+her prospects for a mere whim."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Really, Matilda, I did not bring Madeline to market, I
+am not so anxious to be rid of my daughter, and if she is
+more happy in domestic life than in the gay world, I am
+only too glad to encourage the feeling.  She has seen just
+what the world is, and has sense enough to understand its
+hollowness."
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland is rising rapidly in his profession, still interested
+in his "Home for the News-boys," and esteemed by his kind
+and generous patron.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you know, papa," said Helen, one day, "that
+Madeline is going home; here in the very midst of all her
+triumphs, she is longing for Woodcliff&mdash;so she says, but she
+always was a strange girl; I don't know what to think of
+her."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland felt a thrill of joy pass through his heart at this
+intelligence, for it seemed to say that Madeline was not
+spoiled by the gay world.  How he longed to see her, and
+his wish was speedily gratified.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A carriage stopped at Mr. Thornly's door, which he
+recognized at once as Mr. Hamilton's&mdash;in the next minute,
+Madeline stepped out, and sent the carriage away.  It was
+not a mere call, then, and he hoped to see her, ere she left
+New York.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She had come to spend a social evening with Helen, and
+Roland having the free entrance to the drawing-room at all
+times, sought his young friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are going to leave us, Miss Madeline," was his
+first salutation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, I really long for Woodcliff; a peep at New York
+life has been sufficient."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A bright smile passed over Roland's face.  "I was afraid,
+or rather I thought that you might have been intoxicated
+by its flattery."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is very empty, Mr. Bruce, all mirage and outside
+show; I want something better; point lace and diamonds,
+with glitter and show without sincerity, will not satisfy
+one that once longed for inward peace."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They are sitting apart from the rest, who were engaged
+in their own conversation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland drew near to Madeline, and in a low tone, he
+whispered,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline, do you long for this better life now?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She blushed deeply at the old familiar name, as she
+replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Most intensely, Roland; the world has lost its charms
+for me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just then, Helen stepped up, and interrupted the
+conversation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will you not persuade Madeline to sing?" said the
+young girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If you will favor us first, Helen;" and Roland led
+her to the piano, and stood turning over the leaves for her,
+while she sang.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Was it the tenderness of a lover, or the mere interest of
+a friend that marked his manner towards Helen? inquired
+Madeline of her heart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was something in the glance of Helen that
+betrayed more than a common interest.  But what meant
+Roland's whispered words? old affection? or mere brotherly
+regard for one whom he remembered as a mere wayward
+child?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After Helen, she took her seat at the piano, and song
+after song was called for.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With all the simplicity of childish days, she poured forth
+those strains of thrilling melody, once heard, never to be
+forgotten.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland shaded his eyes to hide the deep emotion which
+he could not control, when she warbled forth, "Ye banks
+and braes o' Bonny Doon," with the sweet pathos of her
+touching voice.  He could not answer, even when she
+turned, and with the innocence of early days, said, in a
+low tone,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That was your mother's favorite, Mr. Bruce."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He bowed, but could not reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The evening passed; Madeline spoke her farewells to the
+family.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland handed her to the carriage
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Remember me in your daily prayers, Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God bless you, Madeline, forever and ever; and I feel
+that he will with his choicest blessings."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Helen is a sweet girl; I hope that you may be happy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The carriage drove off&mdash;Roland retired to muse upon the
+evening, and the next day, Madeline was on her road to
+Woodcliff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the following day, a note was delivered to Roland
+with a check for one hundred dollars for the "Home for the
+News-boys."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Once more in sight of Woodcliff, Madeline's heart beat
+warmly towards every object around her dear home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Effie was on the piazza to meet her, but Madeline was
+shocked to see the change in the dear girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh! how welcome you are, Madeline!  I have been so
+lonely; if it had not been for the poor people that you gave
+me to take care of, I should have been dreary enough; for
+Dr. Jenks will not allow me to use my eyes at all."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am so glad to be back at the dear old home, Effie."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, you did not stay as long as you intended, Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, I begged papa to bring me home; I have seen
+enough of New York; I never was made for fashionable
+life, Effie."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And you really have come back to us, Madeline, perfectly
+free, notwithstanding all the fortunes that have been
+laid at your feet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How did you hear all this, Effie?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Miss Matilda used to write us such descriptions of your
+numerous conquests, that I often felt as if we had lost you
+altogether."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You need never be afraid of such empty-headed fops
+as I have seen, Effie; I scarcely met a man of sense while
+I was away."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline felt the need of some strong guiding hand in
+her present state of feeling; and, after she had been at
+home a few weeks, begged her father to allow her to visit
+Aunt Clara once more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Hamilton felt as if he could scarcely spare her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall not stay long, papa; I do so want to see my
+dear aunt, and she has written for me so often."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You may go, Madeline, if you will promise me to
+return in one month; no longer, my daughter; I want you
+near me, my dear child, for I am not so well as usual."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Perhaps I had better stay, papa."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, Madeline, you can go; if I need you, I will send
+for you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the evening before her departure, she had visited the
+library, and turning over some familiar books, she came at
+last to her portfolio, that she had used when a school-girl.
+Listlessly looking through its contents, a card dropped out,
+on which was sketched what she was sure was a picture of
+herself, as she appeared on the evening when she had first
+met Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a spirited little picture; but who had drawn it?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She hurried to Effie, and holding up the card, said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you know who sketched this?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think it must have been Roland; for one evening
+when he was here, he was a long time in the library; and
+I know that he draws beautifully."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Looking on the back of the card, she saw the initials
+R.G.B., and soon the sweet memento was placed among
+Madeline's treasures.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Taking Hector as her companion, she sought the dearest
+spot around Woodcliff, and soon seated on the rock near
+the old flag-staff, memory wandered over the past.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The incident in the library had touched her deeply; but
+then that was simply a memory of childhood, and she had
+doubtless been forgotten since that time, or only remembered
+as an old friend; for had not Lavinia declared more
+than once that Roland was actually betrothed to Helen
+Thornly; for her own cousin had said so.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ere she left the shore, she visited old Peter.  He was
+living yet, and hastened to meet the young lady whom he
+had so often seen on the sea-shore.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, dear me! the children will grow to be men and
+women, it seems; but a little while ago since you and
+Roland were skipping about here as happy children; now,
+you are a young lady, and Roland such a fine-looking
+young man!  The last time he was down, he came to visit
+me in the old cabin&mdash;says he, 'Peter, you don't care for
+that little shoe that is up in the shelf?'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No," says I, "it is no use to me, but I kept it a good
+while because the little girl dropped it here, and she was a
+bright child, and very good to Uncle Peter."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Did you give it to him?" inquired Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, I did, and he placed it in his pocket, and took it
+away&mdash;a queer fancy for a young man to be hoarding up
+old shoes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Did he ask for one of yours, Uncle Peter?" inquired
+Madeline, with her old smile of mischief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Bless your heart! my young lady, he did not want my
+old shoes; for he only wanted that one, because it belonged
+to the little foot that used to run about here on the old
+beach."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was pleasant talk, and she wondered if Roland
+really did think as much of the little shoe as she did of the
+faded sea-weed that lay hidden in the desk.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I suppose that he did <i>then</i>," thought she; "but that
+perhaps was before he knew Helen Thornly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are you comfortable, Uncle Peter?" asked the young
+girl, before she left the cabin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, you see, Miss, I should like to have some tobacco;
+mine is about gone, and it is hard enough to get it
+sometimes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You shall have some, Uncle Peter;" and the next day
+Madeline sent to the nearest store for a good supply for the
+old man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God bless her bright young face! she always had a
+warm heart, but a quick, high temper.  I wonder how it is
+now; she'll come all right by-and-bye."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline wondered for several days what Roland had
+done with the little shoe; but she guessed at last that it
+thrown away before this.
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap18"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+<br><br>
+THE EARLY DAWN.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+"I shall not leave you long, dear papa," was Madeline's
+farewell; and Aunt Clara was but too happy to see
+her dear niece once more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have heard glowing accounts of your winter in New
+York, Madeline; I really was afraid that you would be
+wholly intoxicated by its temptations."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was for awhile, dear aunt, but I discovered that all
+was mere mirage; there was an inner life that was wholly
+starved in that heartless round of folly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How did you spend your time, Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In dressing, shopping, singing, waltzing, going to the
+opera, making and receiving calls, in hearing frothy talk,
+and scandalous remarks, in listening to the flattery of a
+score of empty-headed fops, coming home tired at night,
+sleeping late next morning, and longing for one sight of
+nature, one true friend, one satisfying portion.  Aunt Clara,
+I learned to loathe the empty life, and I have come to you
+longing for something better."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Folding her niece in her arms, she imprinted a warm kiss
+on the fair young forehead, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There are fountains of living water, Madeline; these
+only can quench the burning thirst of an immortal spirit."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I must find them, dear Aunt Clara, for I am fainting
+for thirst."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lucy Edmonds was happy again, for dearly did she love
+the warm-hearted girl.  Madeline's openness, her generous
+heart, her plain bluntness, her perfect transparency of
+character, charmed her, and contrasted with Lavinia's worldliness
+and vanity; it was really refreshing to hear her sweet
+young voice, and see her moving about again in her aunt's
+household.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was an important era in the life of Madeline Hamilton,
+for a great change was passing silently in her moral
+nature, and a peep into her journal will reveal something
+of her inner life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"New York.  At length I have seen something of this
+bright world, of which I have heard so much.  Last night
+was my first appearance at Mrs. Rossiter's ball.  Dear
+papa spared no expense upon my dress; it was exquisite&mdash;white
+silk with point lace, flowers, and my mother's diamonds.
+I suppose that it was a beautiful vision that
+dawned upon the world, for the language of flattery and
+admiration met me on every side; and, must I say it?  I
+was, for awhile, pleased with the cup offered to my lips.
+Papa was gratified, Aunt Matilda in ecstasies, and I, while
+in the midst of the gay scene, was enchanted&mdash;all was so
+new, so beautiful, so grand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why did I sigh when I entered my dressing-room, and
+shut out the world?  And yet I did sigh, and said to
+myself, 'Is this all?  Empty heart! what is it longing for?
+With everything this world can give, but within, an aching
+void.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have seen Roland, saw him at church, but he did not
+see me.  How calm! how devotional his whole manner!
+O, for the peace that he enjoys!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mr. Grafton called a few days ago to see papa; all his
+talk was of Roland.  Roland's goodness!  Roland's
+benevolence!  Roland's talents!  It was a pleasant
+theme&mdash;and, when he told about the News-boys' Home, which he
+had helped to establish, I felt so proud of him.  I wonder
+what made him think so much of the news-boys! could he
+have been once as poor, as destitute as they?  Mr. Grafton
+hinted it.  Poor Roland! what he must have suffered!
+But why should I feel proud of him?  He is Helen
+Thornly's betrothed; so the world thinks, so Mr. Grafton
+supposes, and Lavinia Raymond declares.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At the opera, last night, the music was divine; but the
+bewildering acting, the unchaste appearance of the women,
+the glitter and parade of the audience,&mdash;was this what
+Roland would approve of?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I lead two lives, one in the outside world, where all is
+show, and giddy pleasure; another, an inner life, with
+every fibre of my nature sending out its clasping tendrils
+to reach something substantial, enduring, satisfying.  Like
+the delicate air-plant fluttering in the breeze, I stretch
+forward to grasp it, but it is gone.  I have not found it yet.
+Who would believe it, that sees Madeline Hamilton
+surrounded by flatterers, intoxicated for the moment with the
+gay blandishments of the world, smiling, waltzing,
+sparkling in magnificence?  Who would believe that, in the
+silence of the night, she mourns, and weeps, and longs for
+something better.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have heard of that better part, that higher life, from
+Mrs. Bruce, from Aunt Clara, from Roland.  I have seen
+it in the calm tranquillity of their daily life, in the blessed
+hopes of a Christian's death.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Last night, I was at Mrs. Rossiter's ball; it was
+superb! but Oh! how hollow!  Even while receiving the
+hospitalities of their hostess, how many heartless ones did
+I hear whispering disparaging remarks, criticizing the
+entertainment, and prophesying the downfall of the
+establishment.  I am sick of this folly&mdash;would that I were back at
+Woodcliff, among the green trees, the quiet lanes, the grand
+old ocean, the solemn cemetery, with dear Effie, my good
+old Hector, faithful Selim, my pets, my flowers; anything
+but this heartless, empty show.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O! what an hour I spent when I retired!  I opened
+my desk, and there lay the dear old sea-weed, given so
+long ago by my best friend, my childish guide, my model
+boy&mdash;now such a noble man.  I pressed them to my
+burning lips; what would I give for one hour's heart
+communion, such as we used to love in days that are gone.
+He could guide me, he could strengthen me, but he is gone,
+he is another's now.  Then I prayed&mdash;yes, earnestly&mdash;fervently;
+and I resolved that this empty, frothy, sinful
+life should end.  It must be sinful; it cannot be right that
+an accountable creature should spend the solemn days of
+probation in such frivolity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Next morning, I told papa that we must go home&mdash;Aunt
+Matilda opposed it&mdash;she does not understand me,
+but Roland does.  I met him at Helen Thornly's&mdash;something
+of the old tenderness in his manner; but still there
+is a gulf between us which seems impassable.  But I can
+cherish the memory of all that he used to be, and all that
+he has taught me.  All that I know of goodness, and high
+and holy things, I have learned from that beggar boy, as
+Harry Castleton has dared to call him, and even now!  I
+felt as if I could wither him with my scorn, and certainly
+annihilated him with one of my haughtiest looks, for I have
+not seen him since that day.  Harry Castleton scorn
+Roland Bruce!  Roland in a cottage, struggling with
+poverty, as I have seen him, with the grand and lofty
+spirit of the Gordons; and Harry Castleton, rolling in
+wealth, the dweller in a palace, would be simply Roland
+and Harry still.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At home again!  How I ran about with my winter
+hood, and water-proof, visiting the old familiar spots, and
+rejoicing in the presence of my dumb pets.  The dear old
+library&mdash;my harp and piano, like faithful friends, seemed to
+welcome me again; the sweet Eolian sounded out a loud
+pæan, for sharp March winds swept over its strings, and it,
+too, seemed rejoicing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How shall I occupy my time?  There is a great deal
+here to do.  I should like to do some good in the world,
+and live for something beside myself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Could I not gather a little group of poor children, and
+teach them?  Could I not establish something like a parish
+school?  There are so many poor people around us, that
+only live a wild life,&mdash;children of the fishermen.  Effie could
+help me, and we would be so happy together.  Then, after
+awhile, we might perhaps have the services of our own
+church; I could get a missionary to come here twice
+a-month from Boston, and then we may have a church of our
+own; but I must see Aunt Clara first, she can direct me.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am with Aunt Clara again.  There is rest in her
+very smile; the soft silver hair lies so quietly around her
+mild face; the peace of God breathes in every look and
+motion.  She is so different from Aunt Matilda&mdash;she draws
+me heavenward; Aunt Matilda drags me down.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Poor aunty! what a pity that she has nothing but the
+things of this world to lean upon! no wonder that she feels
+their insecurity.  But, dear Aunt Clara, so patient, so
+peaceful, so happy.  I can pour out my whole heart, I can
+tell her all my thoughts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She seems to anticipate all I have to say.  How sweet
+the name of Jesus sounds, uttered by her lips!  She talks
+to me of his tenderness, his fulness, his preciousness, until
+sometimes I feel, 'None but Jesus!'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then clouds come again&mdash;I lose my hope, and all is
+dark.  But still I trust that there is some progress in the
+inner life.  I love my Bible; the hour of prayer is precious;
+the house of God, my chief joy.  Nothing will draw me to
+the world again, I hope; and yet my 'heart is deceitful
+above all things,' as regards the things of God.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lavinia urges me to follow in her sinful, foolish ways; I
+will not&mdash;I have refused her invitations repeatedly, and
+she tries the power of ridicule.  She does not know me, or
+she would not try the weakness of such a weapon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am too proud yet to yield to such a mode of opposition.
+Just let me believe myself a Christian, and Lavinia's
+ridicule will only excite my sorrow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The gay world has lost its charms for me, and I care not
+what Lavinia and her friends may say.  She has told me
+a great deal about Helen Thornly, and has convinced me,
+that she is, indeed, the chosen companion of Roland's future
+life&mdash;may they be happy!  She says that Roland always
+speaks of me with the affection of a brother, very calmly,
+but never seems willing to talk about Helen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How much of my present state of feeling may arise from
+this loss of my early friend.  If so, how little is this
+weariness of the world to be trusted! in other circumstances,
+the power of the world may all return.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I went to hear Mr. Endicott, Aunt Clara's pastor.  What
+an earnest, faithful sermon!  What a picture of our sinful
+nature he drew!  it is all too true.  And where is our help?
+'Look unto me,' says the Blessed Saviour; do I look unto
+him? if I did, would not peace visit my bosom?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh! for a living faith!  Sometimes I feel as if I really
+had exercised such trust, and then the merest trifle draws
+my heart away, and my peace vanishes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lavinia has such power to annoy me&mdash;she takes
+malicious pleasure in bringing all the gossip that she can
+about Roland&mdash;why should I be so disturbed?  He is only
+my friend; I am mortified that I should allow myself to
+dwell so much upon these circumstances.  I had a letter
+from Helen, yesterday&mdash;it was full of Roland&mdash;she says if
+I could know all, I would value him as highly as she does.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How little does she know of me!  What can be the
+secret which she cannot disclose?  She says that it places
+him among the noblest and the best of men.  She writes
+as if she were on terms of close intimacy with Roland;
+writes of mending his clothes, attending to his room,
+helping him in his work among the News-boys.  It is evident
+that she loves Roland Bruce; and how can she do otherwise,
+living in the house with him on such familiar terms?
+May they be happy together!  But it does seem strange
+that he can forget his old friend so soon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A letter from papa; he is not well&mdash;he says that the
+parlor is so melancholy, the harp so silent; he wishes me
+to return; I promised him that I would; and nothing can
+keep me away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunt Clara is sorry to have me go so soon, but she
+thinks it is my duty, and bids me depart.  I am going,
+to-morrow&mdash;she prayed so earnestly alone with me, that I
+might be kept from the temptations of the world, and
+brought really to the feet of Jesus.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am at home again&mdash;papa looks so thin and pale; his
+spirits are very low&mdash;Effie's eyes are no better; I am
+troubled about the dear girl, more than she is about
+herself; she seems to live in the spirit of a beautiful hymn.
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  'Sweet to lie passive in his hands,<br>
+  And know no will but his.'<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>
+"I spent my first evening at the harp, playing for dear
+papa; he seemed so happy to have me at home again&mdash;how
+fondly he hung over me all the evening!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What should I be without him?  I cannot bear to think
+of such a time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He called me to his side before he retired, and opening a
+casket, gave me such a beautiful set of emeralds; he is
+never tired of lavishing gifts upon his darling child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To-day Effie was sitting near the window trying to knit
+a little; she seemed sorely perplexed, frequently dropping
+her stitches, and scarcely able to take them up again&mdash;Aunt
+Matilda observed her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'What are you worrying yourself for, Effie, with that
+knitting?'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'I am so tired of doing nothing,' replied the dear girl,
+while large tears rolled over her cheeks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Poor dear Effie!  I fear that she is really losing her
+sight&mdash;so patient! so resigned! so ready for the will of her
+Heavenly Father, whatever that may be.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Roland had heard of her sickness, and has been to see
+her&mdash;'He was so kind,' Effie says; 'so gentle to his little
+sister.'  She says that he asked a great deal about me.  I
+wonder if he has the little shoe yet&mdash;how foolish all this
+is!  I ought not to write such folly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have a great deal of time unoccupied&mdash;ought I not to
+do something for this neighborhood?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But how shall I begin?  In my walk, yesterday, I
+rambled among the factory children; they seem very poor
+and ignorant; can I not do something for them?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunt Clara gave me some little books and tracts for just
+such people; I think I will take some among them.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I went this morning along the factory lane, with my
+little basket in my hand; the children found that I had
+pretty books with pictures.  Soon they were running after
+me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Lady, please give me a little book,' cried one little
+girl.  'Give me one, lady,' 'and me,' 'and me,' sounded
+out a score of young voices, all eager for a book, or a tract.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The books were soon all gone, and I had the pleasure
+of seeing several sit down by the road-side, eagerly
+examining the pictures, while others ran in to show their
+mothers what they had got.  I think very few can read,
+for they only looked at the pictures.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"One little curly-headed girl, with bare feet and ragged
+clothes, came pulling me by the dress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Lady, please come and see my mammy; she is very sick.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I followed the child, and found her poor mother
+extended upon a bed of sickness, with every appearance of
+want and misery.  I questioned her; she had been sick for
+two months; often in need of food; her two children worked
+at the factory, and their scanty wages was all that she had.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Oh, ma'am! the rich don't know the value of the
+broken pieces which they throw away; but we know,
+ma'am.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I left her some money, and promised to remember poor
+Mrs. Donnelly&mdash;she had set me to earnest thinking.  Her
+grateful look repaid me for that visit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In the next cottage was an old bed-ridden grandmother;
+in another a cripple; and enough all around to convince
+me that Madeline Hamilton must not spend an idle
+life around Woodcliff.  Just to think that I have lived so
+many years in elegance and ease, and all this misery at my
+very doors.  I thought of the parable of the steward, and
+his Lord's return to reckon.  It is true that a great deal
+was sent out from Woodcliff among the neighboring poor,
+but it could not be said of us generally, 'I was sick and ye
+visited me.'  I must do something&mdash;but how shall it be?  I
+will ask Effie; she knows a great deal about these people.
+Roland could tell me; his earnest, warm heart, and strong
+good sense, would see the way at once.  It will be so
+pleasant to know that I am working in the same field with
+Roland&mdash;he, for the misery of New York, and I, for that
+around Woodcliff.  These poor children have no time for
+school, and yet they are so ignorant; can I teach them in
+any way?  They might stop work on Saturday; I would
+pay their mother their wages, and they could come to me
+in the afternoon; they would thus lose no money, and gain
+much knowledge.  I will try, and Effie can help me to
+gather the children.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I went yesterday&mdash;six little ones promised to come on
+Saturday.  Aunt Matilda is shocked with the idea of a Miss
+Hamilton becoming the Lady Bountiful of the neighborhood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'What will Mrs. Grundy say?' is ever uppermost with
+poor aunty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have a room all my own, where I can do just what I
+please; my pleasant sitting-room, where I can easily
+manage twelve little girls.  I will have some nice desks and
+benches made, and James can bring them in every Saturday.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yesterday my little class came&mdash;they were all clean,
+but several barefoot and ragged.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They seemed quite bewildered by the pretty things
+around them.  I played a simple hymn, and tried to teach
+them to say it; but they were struck dumb with amazement.
+I suppose that they had never seen a piano before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I amused them then by telling them a story.  Effie took
+them out in the garden, and gave each a bunch of flowers.
+They looked so pleased, poor little things!  What a pity
+that I had not known before how cheap a thing it is to
+make others happy, and that my garden could brighten so
+many little faces; but I don't think that they were so happy
+as I&mdash;my heart felt so warm, and tears of gratitude would
+rise, when I remembered all God's goodness to me.  There
+was a warm glow of sunshine around Woodcliff on Saturday
+afternoon, and it shall come again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Effie thinks we had a good beginning; the little ones
+promised to come next Saturday.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunt Matilda laughs at my new folly, as she terms it,
+saying, 'that I will soon grow tired of it.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Papa says, 'I am glad that Madeline has thought of the
+children; it will employ much of her time.  I sometimes
+think that we spend a very useless life here at Woodcliff.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunt Matilda replies, 'I am sure, Lewis, that you
+cannot expect me to enter into any such plans.  I am much
+too delicate with my nervous temperament; it would drive
+me crazy to teach little children; and I do think that
+Madeline Hamilton might find employment more worthy of a
+young lady.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have written to Helen to send me some shoes for
+children, and some books, giving her a short account of
+what we are doing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Saturday came again&mdash;my six little girls were punctual;
+but it was a rainy day, and they brought some mud.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunt Matilda was very angry, and said harsh things.
+I replied haughtily, and with one of my outbursts of
+temper.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Well, Madeline, if this is your piety, I want nothing
+to do with it.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'I don't pretend to piety, aunt; I only want to do some
+good in the world; and I think that you might help, instead
+of hinder me.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was ashamed of myself, and deeply depressed for all
+that day&mdash;will I ever learn to bridle my tongue?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The little ones were glad to get their new shoes&mdash;I gave
+them their first lessons; they were very dull, for they have
+never been taught anything; and it was hard to keep their
+eyes from wandering about the room, and out into the
+garden, for the glass doors of my sitting room open directly
+on the garden, filled with beautiful flowers.  A hymn which
+they tried to sing, and a bunch of flowers for each, closed
+the exercises."
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The school went on prosperously for several weeks; the
+numbers increased to twelve; and Madeline was pleased to
+see some improvement.  Effie taught each one orally verses
+from the Bible, and simple hymns, for she could not use
+her eyes at all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Weekly the young girls visited the factory lane, and
+soon the poor people learned to look for the visit with great
+delight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sick mother was tenderly cared for; the old
+grandmother provided with what she needed; the cripple
+comforted by kind words, and gentle ministrations; and
+Madeline felt the joy of knowing that she was doing something
+towards lightening human misery.  But Effie's eyes were
+growing worse; it was deemed advisable to consult a New
+York oculist; and Madeline was obliged to accompany the
+young girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Saturday school was for awhile suspended, much
+to the disappointment of the little ones, for they were very
+sorry to lose their kind teachers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Being alone, it was thought proper that they should
+take up their abode in a private boarding-house, for
+Madeline could not burden her friend Mary Trevor with the
+charge of Effie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But little encouragement was given by the great oculist;
+and Madeline was now convinced that her friend was
+doomed to a life of darkness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was not in New York when they first arrived,
+having gone to a neighboring town on important business.
+Madeline was devoted in her attendance upon Effie; reading
+to her, and in every way that affection could invent,
+trying to turn her thoughts from herself.  Effie was,
+however, in habits of daily self-communion, schooling her young
+heart to what she felt was coming.  "God help me!" was
+her constant cry; and when was that feeble prayer ever
+disregarded by the dear Father in Heaven?
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap19"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XIX
+<br><br>
+"AULD LANG SYNE."
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+Madeline's presence in New York is soon known among
+her friends; numberless cards are left at her house, but as
+her errand is one chiefly of business, she returns but few
+calls; a few exceptions, however, are made; for she wishes
+Effie to have some cheerful society.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Occasionally, excursions are made around New York
+for the purpose of amusing her young friend, for Madeline
+spares no pains to cheer her drooping spirits.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland has returned; he has been absent on exceedingly
+annoying and troublesome business, and somewhat to throw
+off care, takes a boat for the bay.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is a beautiful evening, and has invited a merry party
+of ladies and gentlemen to take the same excursion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland does not relish the companionship of the
+light-hearted, and withdraws himself from their neighborhood;
+not far from where he stands, he observes the form of a
+lady leaning over the side of the boat; sometimes gazing
+dreamily upon the water, then upon the heavens above; it
+looks like a familiar form.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He recognizes the face of Madeline, but avoids
+recognition, because he wishes to watch her movements.  She
+seems melancholy and abstracted, and hums sadly a
+familiar air, one that he had taught her; the dear old song
+of "Auld Lang Syne."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Does she remember those happy times?" thought the
+young man, "and surrounded as she is by so much to make
+her forget those early days; does she still cherish the
+memory of her boyish friend?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He observed her wipe a tear silently away, and as she
+turned to renew her walk, Roland moved towards her, and
+she recognized the object of her thoughts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mr. Bruce!" "Miss Madeline!" were the hasty
+salutations, as each extended a hand of welcome.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How came you here, Miss Madeline?" was Roland's
+first question.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am here with Effie, for advice with regard to her eyes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is she with you to-night?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She is not, for she has but little heart for amusement;
+she insisted on my coming, and I have left her in good
+company for the evening."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You were musing, Miss Madeline," said Roland, in a
+lower voice, "and singing that old Scotch song; did it
+recall former childish days?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For a minute, Madeline did not reply; at last she said,
+"I shall never forget those days; how often do I need just
+such a friend as I had then."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is a friend, Madeline, 'that sticketh closer than
+a brother;' have you found him yet?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am trying, Roland, but there is much to hinder; my
+faith is very weak; my heart very deceitful."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your Saviour knows that, Madeline; he is not only
+the 'author, but the finisher of our faith;' if you have any,
+even as much as the grain of mustard seed, it is of his
+planting; he only can make it grow; do you look to him
+daily?" and Roland bent more closely to Madeline, as they
+paced the deck together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think I have that little grain; but my great infirmities
+of character do so harass me; my quick impetuous temper
+make me feel so unworthy.  I have no one to strengthen
+me now as when I went to Maple Lane School."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do the temptations of the world draw your heart away
+from better things, Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think not; I care for none of them; I want to be a
+Christian, wholly; to live a better, higher, holier life."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"These are the teachings of the Holy Spirit, Madeline;
+God will perfect his own work; only do not resist these
+influences, they are sent from Heaven."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lately I wanted your advice so much; I want to do
+some good at Woodcliff; but I did not know how to begin."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have heard, Madeline, about your little school; go on,
+my young friend, God will guide and bless you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How did you hear, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Did you not write to Helen for books and shoes? she
+told me all about it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline shrank away at the mention of Helen's name,
+for she feared that she had been too communicative about
+herself, but it seemed so like the old times, that she could
+not resist the opportunity of opening her heart on this one
+subject.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Does Helen take any interest in such things?" inquired
+Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, she does now," was the answer; "she is quite a
+help to me in my 'Home.'  I wish that you could do
+something for us, Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How can I work for you away off at Woodcliff?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, you have a very fertile imagination, and used to
+be famous at story-telling&mdash;can't you manufacture
+something for the 'News-boys?'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I write stories, Roland! why, I never thought of such
+a thing&mdash;but it would be a pleasant thing if I could so
+write for them, and work for you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I want you to work for God, Madeline; you have bright
+talents, my little friend;" and Roland seemed to have gone
+back to the days on the sea-shore, and to forget that he was
+talking to a young lady, the heiress of Woodcliff, instead
+of little Maddy of Maple Lane School.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline smiled, for it made her very happy to feel that
+she could, in any way, be a coworker with Roland, and she
+really felt as if she could make the effort; it was worth
+trying.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Must it be very religious, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It must be something to wake up the moral sense of
+these poor boys, and to point them to a holy life."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh! that is too much for me, Roland; I can, perhaps,
+write a little story which may please them, and keep them
+from bad reading."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will you promise me to try, Madeline? send it on to
+me, and I will correct it, and get it ready for the press."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Suddenly Madeline burst out into one of her old fits of
+laughing; her own ringing, silvery laugh.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I could not help it, Roland; it seems so strange to
+think of Madeline Hamilton turning authoress."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It does not seem strange to me; I always believed that
+you were born for something very good, Madeline; now I
+want you to tell me all about your little school, and the
+poor people around Woodcliff."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And Madeline entered into an animated description of
+all that had been attempted; so artless, so naive was her
+account, so modest, and yet so frank, that Roland felt as if
+he was seated once more by the bright child of the
+sea-shore; but when he remembered that years had passed
+since then, and that the broad gulf of wealth and rank
+forbade the free, charming intercourse of those young days;
+he checked expressions that would have arisen to his lips,
+and hushed the wild beating of his heart, awakening to the
+sense of danger, that attended such an interview as this.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You promise to write the story, Madeline, remember."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, I promise anything,"&mdash;&mdash;and she checked the
+remaining words trembling on her lips,&mdash;"to you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They forgot the passing of time in this sweet communion,
+until Charles Davenport came up to Madeline, and laying
+his hand upon her arm, said, haughtily,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are you aware, Madeline, how long you have been
+absent from your party?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are you aware that you are interrupting my
+conversation with an old friend?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"An old friend, indeed!  May I ask the name?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mr. Bruce, Charles Davenport."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How long since you resigned your post at college, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What post, Mr. Davenport?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That which you held when I was a member of that
+college."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland did not answer&mdash;indignation was too strong; but
+Madeline did.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I understand your insinuation, sir; how dare you insult
+Roland Bruce?  You cannot lower him; you have tried
+it too often, and failed."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Poor Madeline! aware of the hot blood that was mounting
+to her face, she covered it with her hands, and murmured,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Begone, Charles Davenport; you make me forget that
+I am a woman; I am so ashamed, what shall I do?" and
+she burst into tears of wounded modesty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Charles went off whistling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Quite a scene with that upstart fellow!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland stood by Madeline, scarcely knowing what to
+say.  He was aware that her innate sense of propriety had
+been greatly outraged by the words which in her impetuosity
+she had uttered; he stood silent for one minute, then
+taking her hand, said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I understand your generous nature, Madeline; I thank
+you more than words can express."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am humbled, mortified at my impetuosity; do not
+think me destitute of modesty, Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You, Madeline! you know not what you are saying&mdash;be
+satisfied when I say that if the expression of the deepest
+respect that ever filled the heart of man can relieve your
+wounded pride, it is all your own."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, Roland; I could not bear to lose your
+respect; let me always deserve that."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Taking her hand, and placing it within his arm, he led
+her to her party, saying,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good night, Miss Madeline; I shall see you and Effie
+to-morrow;" for Roland felt that this heart-communion was
+becoming each moment more dangerous.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Who was that young man?" inquired Mary Trevor;
+"he is so noble-looking, and what a bow! quite the air of a
+prince!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Poor and proud!" retorted Charles Davenport.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He is an early friend of mine, Mary.  His name is Bruce."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O yes! he is in Mr. Thornly's office; I have met him
+there several times; he is a young man of fine talents, and
+quite an admirer of Helen Thornly; some say more."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline did not reply, but there was something in her
+heart that night, that made her feel very easy with regard
+to these rumors; at all events, Roland has lost none of his
+interest in his youthful friend, and Madeline dreamed about
+Woodcliff, and Maple Lane School, about the sea-shore,
+Uncle Peter, and a little shoe.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next morning, Roland called to see his sister, and was
+deeply pained at the evidences manifest of the affliction
+hanging over his darling Effie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Folding her in his arms, he pressed upon her sweet face
+the warm kisses of brotherly love.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Would, darling, that I could shelter you from the woes
+of life; but Effie, this is not our home; we are seeking a
+better one; and if for a little while our Father sees fit to
+close my sister's eyes, I will be eyes and everything else
+for her."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know it, Roland; I am trying to school my heart; I
+know what is coming; each day the light becomes more
+dim; but the presence of my Saviour is always with me;
+I can still, with the eyes of my soul, 'Look aloft.'  I have
+so many blessings, Roland; a pleasant home, good kind
+friends, a dear, dear brother, such a friend in Madeline, and
+the hope of Heaven always so bright."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland smoothed the soft brown hair, kissed the pale
+forehead, and lifting up his voice, prayed so fervently for
+the dear stricken lamb, that Effie was comforted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A few more days, and the young girls returned to Woodcliff,
+with the sad certainty that nothing more could be done
+for Effie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland saw them safely in the cars, and promised to
+write frequently to his sister.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Remember your promise," was his last charge to Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as possible, she made preparations for her new
+effort; carefully concealing from her father and aunt the
+nature of her employment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was some time deciding whether her hero should be
+a good or a bad boy; she tried both, but was dissatisfied.
+At last, she selected one from the very lowest walks of life,
+and the deepest degradation, raised by the power of Christian
+love to a post of useful, earnest piety.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As her story progressed, she read each chapter to Effie,
+who was delighted at the genius manifested by her model
+friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length it was completed, and sent to Roland; nothing
+was heard of it for some time.  So humble was her sense
+of its demerits, that Madeline looked daily for the return
+of her manuscript.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Finally, a letter came to Effie, announcing that all
+arrangements were made, the book disposed of, and would be
+out in about two months; but Roland asked what was to be
+done with the money for the manuscript.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I never thought of that," said the young girl; "but tell
+Roland, Effie, to keep the money for the 'Home.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When at last the package came, and Madeline really
+looked upon one of her own productions in print, she could
+not but smile at her temerity; and when in addition to the
+book, were also some flattering notices from the press, she
+was actually surprised.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Papa was in the library&mdash;Madeline knocked at the door
+with a trembling hand; and when her father bade her
+enter, she stood irresolute with the book in her hand, and a
+shy smile upon her face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is the matter, daughter? you seem agitated."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have something to show you, papa."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well! what is it?  I am ready."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This little book, papa."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Poh! poh! is that all? only a boy's book, Maddy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But I know that you'd like to read this one, papa."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, to please my daughter, I'll read it some time; lay
+it on the table."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But, papa, I want you to read it now; look at the
+title-page."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"By Madeline."  "Why, what does this mean?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It means, dear papa, that this is Mad-cap's book."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Did you really write this, my child?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, I did, papa; I hope it may do some good among
+the poor boys of New York."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What next, Maddy?" asked her father, with an amused
+expression of countenance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I must be busy, and this is such pleasant work; you do
+not object, do you, papa?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, not exactly; but I should not like to have your
+name handed around as an authoress; I have rather a
+horror of literary ladies in general; they are so often odd,
+and I cannot abide an eccentric woman."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But, dear me, papa, these little unpretending stories are
+really nothing; they never can make me famous; and really
+I do not wish for anything but that they may do some
+good."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Papa read the little book with a feeling of secret pride,
+quite surprised to see so much talent in his daughter Maddy.
+At the tea-table, he alluded to the subject.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, what would you think, Matilda, if I should
+introduce Madeline to her aunt, as a young authoress?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Think, Lewis Hamilton! why I should say that you
+are both crazy.  First, a Lady Bountiful, bringing in all
+the ragged children of the neighborhood, and now a writer
+of childish books.  I am really concerned; if she becomes
+a 'blue stocking,' I have no hope left; she will grow to be
+a careless, slatternly woman, just like that Miss Hodges,
+that used to go about the country with soiled face and
+hands, carrying her great bag of manuscript under her
+skirts, fastened around her waist, like saddle-bags.  You
+have no idea, Lewis Hamilton, how these pursuits ruin a
+woman&mdash;your indulgence carries you much too far."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Hamilton laughed heartily at such a picture.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't alarm yourself, Matilda; I don't think that
+Madeline will ever reach notoriety like that."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, aunty, I can't see how you could ever dream of
+such a thing; you know bow I despise a sloven; if I
+thought that I could ever become such a disgusting person,
+I would burn my papers at once, and consign my poor little
+attempts to the oblivion which they may reach in another
+way; but, dear aunt, really in earnest, I promise you to
+wash my face and hands, and comb my hair at least once a
+day, and not to disgrace my name."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Throwing her arms around Aunt Matilda's neck, she
+kissed her affectionately, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now confess, aunty, did not you think first, 'And what
+will Mrs. Grundy say?'  Is not that the truth?"  And Maddy
+was victor as usual of the whole ground; father, aunt, and
+all who had read her little book.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Write to your heart's content, Maddy, only avoid those
+follies which are so often seen."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The little school prospered.  Effie aided as far as her
+strength allowed.  Total blindness had spread its dark
+mantle over the dear girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was truly a mournful sight to behold the desolate
+orphan, groping her way about the house, feeling by the
+banisters, and along the walls; or sitting with folded hands,
+and meek submissive face, generally in Madeline's sitting
+room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her health was evidently on the decline; a feebler step,
+failing appetite, longings for the better land marked her
+approach to her Father's house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She had learned to knit very expertly, even without eyesight,
+and it was with feelings of humble contentment that
+she could thus employ her fingers, for many a nice pair of
+warm stockings were thus provided for their little pupils.
+Seated in Madeline's favorite room, she could smell the
+fragrance of the flowers, hear the warbling of birds, and
+the sweet voice of her dear friend at her daily practice.
+Her chapter in the Bible was read to her every morning,
+by Madeline, who would then arrange her chair, get Effie's
+knitting, and busy herself about her own employments.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will you get me a bunch of heather, Maddy?  I want
+it near me; it was my mother's flower, you know."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here it is, Effie;" and placing it in her hands, Madeline
+kissed the sweet pale face, while the blind girl pressed
+it to her lips with sweet memories of the departed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is it a bright morning, Madeline?" asked the orphan.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Bright as a May morning can be, Effie; the dew is
+yet on the sweet flowers, and all is charming and refreshing."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can well afford to be contented with my present
+blindness, Madeline; for I shall soon see the brighter
+scenes, and pluck the flowers of Paradise; will you sing
+for me that sweet hymn,
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  'Thy will be done?'"<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+and as Madeline poured out the plaintive melody of that
+touching air, Effie leaned back in her chair, with a sweet
+placid look of perfect happiness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline, it is a precious experience 'to know no will
+but his,' willing to live, joyful to die; I would live for
+Roland, but die to be with Jesus and my mother; by-the-bye,
+Madeline, to-morrow is the day when we may expect
+my brother; did he not say on Thursday?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He did in his last letter to you, and he is a faithful
+promiser."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Seated in her accustomed place, Effie listens eagerly for
+every step, for her remaining senses are made more acute
+by the loss of one; the step on the gravelled walk, then on
+the piazza, the closing of the front door, the firm tread
+along the hall, and the voice so beloved, sends a glow of
+joy over the face of the blind girl, and rising, she gropes
+her way hastily to the entry, where she is soon folded to the
+bosom of her "dear, dear Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He gazes sadly for one moment upon the sightless eyes,
+the pale drooping form, and the hectic bloom on the thin
+face, and feels that Effie is following their mother to the
+land of the blessed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Roland has a cheerful spirit, and nothing but strong
+comforting words pass his lips when alone with his little
+sister.  He tells her of his plans, of his success in
+business, and his News-boys' Home, of incidents connected
+with the history of several, and amusing accounts of their
+first entrance upon civilized life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Would you believe it, Effie, that one poor little fellow
+did not know the use of a staircase, and we found him
+groping up on his hands and feet as he had been accustomed
+to do by the ladder of his gloomy garret.  There
+was a looking-glass in the matron's room, and the same
+little fellow was pushing through, thinking it was another
+room."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Effie laughed at these stories, and thought her brother
+the most entertaining company that she had ever met.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, brother, tell me all about Madeline's book; did
+the boys like it?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It was the very book for them; they are always asking
+for 'The Boy in Earnest;' each one is to have a copy on
+Christmas morning."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Turning to Madeline, he continued,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You must go on with your stories; the publisher was
+delighted, and wants more from the same source.  I have
+some matter which I can give you, and you can weave it
+into the form of a tale for us&mdash;you see that my advice was
+good, Madeline, although you were so afraid to try."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is always right, Roland; you never advised me for
+anything but my good, but you ought to hear Aunt Matilda
+make fun of these things; she says that I shall forget to
+wash my face and hands after awhile; do you think that
+there is really any danger of such a calamity?" and
+Madeline smiled archly on her friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not if I may judge by present appearances;" was the
+reply, as Roland gazed with an admiring look upon the
+perfect lady-like neatness of hair, dress, and manner that
+always distinguished Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I never could tell what you wear, but I think that your
+aunt need not wish anything different."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline blushed at the compliment so unusual from the
+lips of Roland, and made a low mischievous courtesy, with
+the witchery of former times.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, kind sir, you had better take care, lest you
+make me vain, instead of a 'blue stocking;' and one is as
+bad as the other."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Pure motives, Madeline, will make all right; everything
+in its proper place, but God over all."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A bright blush mantled the young face, and a light
+beamed from the deep blue eyes, illumining the whole
+countenance, which Madeline did not care to be wholly
+revealed, for she dropped the lids hastily, lest the eyes should
+speak too much.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Saturday school assembled before Roland returned
+to New York.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On a visit to Effie, he had the pleasure of being present
+at one of these gatherings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline was much embarrassed, and could scarcely proceed
+with her work in his presence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Understanding her feelings, he said, kindly,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is there anything that I can do, Miss Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If you will make the opening prayer, I should be
+pleased.  I use our forms of prayer, but I would rather hear
+yours to-day."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland poured forth a simple, heart-felt, earnest prayer,
+remembering all the members of that household, as well as
+the children kneeling around them.  Madeline had never
+heard him pray, and when he named her as the young
+teacher of the little flock, she felt that more earnestness
+marked those petitions, and deeply was she moved by the
+glowing language of that solemn supplication.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took Effie's class, and although apparently engrossed
+by the employment of the hour, watched with deep emotion
+the humble, affectionate manner with which Madeline
+performed her duty towards her young pupils.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He did not wonder at their interest, when he glanced at
+the earnest glow of her lovely countenance, nor at the
+reverence of the young faces, when he listened to the simple
+instruction which she endeavored to impart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the close, Madeline took her seat at the piano, and
+played one of her childish hymns, in which they all joined;
+then the bunch of flowers, as usual, was the kind dismissal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Please, ma'am, granny is very bad with the rheumatiz,"
+said little Betsy Smith; "she wants you to come and see
+her."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will come to-morrow, Betsy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And please, ma'am," said another, "daddy broke his
+leg last week; won't you stop at our house?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline blushed as she saw the expression with which
+Roland regarded her, as she answered the humble petitioners.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God bless you, Miss Madeline, in your good work," said
+the young man, as he warmly pressed her hand; "but this
+is a novel kind of school in a young lady's sitting-room, in
+the midst of flowers and music, and such teachers."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Our accommodations are not suitable, we know; but
+we hope for something better some of these days."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The children will be sorry to move away from this,"
+was the quick reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But we can teach so few in this room, and we might
+as well have more."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was more pleased than he could express with all
+that he had seen, and when he took his departure, his last
+words were,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God bless you, Miss Madeline, and do not forget
+another book."
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap20"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XX.
+<br><br>
+OUT IN THE LIGHT.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+It is a bright and beautiful day&mdash;Madeline looks tenderly
+upon the drooping invalid reclining upon the couch in her
+pleasant sitting-room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will you walk this morning, Effie? the air is so pure
+and fresh, it will revive you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She raised her languid head for one moment, and replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I cannot to-day, dear, I am too weak; come read to me
+some of the precious Saviour's words; they will comfort
+me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline selected some passages from the fourteenth
+chapter of John, those which have cheered so many weary
+pilgrims on their journey homeward.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In my Father's house are many mansions; if it were
+not so, I would have told you; I go to prepare a place for you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Many mansions,' dear Madeline, and one is mine, purchased
+by a Saviour's blood, ensured to me by his unfailing
+truth."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline's eyes filled, and her voice trembled as she
+continued.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come
+again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there
+ye may be also."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'I will come again,' Maddy; listen to those words;
+Jesus will come again, and where he is, I shall be also;
+with Jesus, dearest; with my mother in Paradise; out in
+the light; no more blindness, no more darkness, but perfect
+bliss; this is my hope."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline took up the next verse.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And whither I go ye know, and the way ye know."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, blessed be God!  I know the way; I have known
+it so long; my mother led my infant steps in that holy
+way, and I cannot remember when I did not love my
+Saviour.  O, what cause have I to praise my God!  While
+so many are living in sin, dancing merrily in the way to
+death, his grace has saved me, Maddy; if I had been like
+others, rich and healthy, I might have been just as
+thoughtless, just as vain."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline continued until she came to the verse, "Jesus
+saith unto him, I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no
+man cometh unto the Father but by me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He does not leave us, dear, to grope in darkness, when
+he says, 'Come unto me;' he leads the way himself; he is
+the truth; he guides us into all truth; he is the life, Maddy,
+the life of the immortal soul; through him we have pardon,
+access to God, and the hope of eternal life sure and stedfast;
+poor, weak, trembling thing that I am, I can cast my
+little anchor within the vail, and feel it on a rock.  I know
+that this faith must be divine, for I am such a fearful, timid
+being, afraid of so many things around me, and yet not
+afraid to meet a pure and holy God in judgment; this faith
+must be all his work, Maddy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With a heart full of sympathy, Madeline continued until
+she reached the thirteenth verse.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I
+do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son.  If ye shall
+ask anything in my name,  I will do it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'If ye shall ask anything in my name;' think of the
+promise, Madeline, 'I will do it.'  I have believed my Saviour,
+and I have asked eternal life for you, and my Saviour
+will, yes dear, he is hearing my prayer, and Roland's
+too&mdash;how often have we prayed together for you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline's head drooped for one moment, and she could
+scarcely proceed; but she answered,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you really believe, Effie, that I shall ever be a
+Christian? that I, proud, self-willed Madeline, shall ever be like
+the meek and lowly Saviour?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, dear, if you, like Mary, will sit daily at his feet,
+he will teach you; he will make you like himself; and then,
+Maddy, after all the cares and sorrows of this mortal life
+are ended, we shall be forever with him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Does it ever grieve you to think of leaving this world,
+Effie?" asked her friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When I think of Roland all alone," and her lips quivered,
+"then my heart is sad, for he has none but me; but
+you'll be kind to him, Madeline; you will not forget Effie's
+brother."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is Helen Thornly, Effie; while he has her, he
+will not be desolate."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What do you mean, Madeline?  Helen is only a kind
+friend to Roland, nothing more; she helps him in his
+missionary work, and that brings them much together; there
+is nobody in the wide world that Roland values as he does
+you, Maddy; next to me, you are his other sister."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Did he ever tell you so, Effie?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why no, not exactly; but I know Roland; he can never
+forget the kindness of his little sea-shore friend, or the sweet
+intercourse of childish days; he has too much gratitude for
+that.  But Maddy, there is one thing I should like&mdash;when
+I am gone, you can write no more letters for poor blind
+Effie; how he will miss them!  If you would only continue
+to write to him kind, friendly letters, he would not miss me
+then quite so much."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Dear innocent little Effie!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline blushed even in the presence of the blind girl,
+at such a proposition.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That cannot be, Effie; it would be highly improper for
+a young lady to be writing letters to a gentleman."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Pardon me, Madeline, I forgot the difference; I see it
+cannot be expected; it would be presumptuous in Roland;
+but still it would be so pleasant; and I don't see why you
+cannot; just letters of advice, Maddy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I advise Roland! why Effie, that would be singular
+indeed, when nearly all my life he has been my counsellor."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is a strange world, Maddy.  I know that you
+would like to write; and just because people are so foolish,
+you have to be led by their notions; Roland is only like a
+brother, and I can't see any harm in it at all."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dear papa would not approve of such a correspondence,
+Effie; and besides, Roland has never asked it himself."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Some of these days, Madeline, you will be thinking of
+marriage, or some one will think of it for you; I hope that
+you will ask Roland's counsel, then; I know that he would
+not like you to marry any one who is not a Christian."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, Effie, you need not trouble yourself about the
+matter; I am very happy at Woodcliff; I don't know any
+one that could tempt me away from my father; in fact, I
+don't think about it at all.  Harry Castleton has troubled
+me sometimes with his offers, but really, I scarcely give it
+a thought, and least of all with him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Madeline smiled at the idea of asking Roland's
+advice upon such a subject.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, Maddy, sing me one of our sweet hymns."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What shall it be, dear?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord;' that is
+one of my favorites."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And Madeline sang the beautiful words with touching pathos.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Effie was not able to sit up all that day, but continued
+in the same happy, tranquil state of mind.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Time wore away&mdash;gradually Effie's strength declined.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One day, being a little stronger, she called Madeline to
+her side, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Bring me the box, dear, which you will find in my
+upper drawer," and accordingly Madeline obeyed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have none but you, Miss Matilda, and Roland, Maddy,
+and I want to distribute my few trifling keepsakes, before
+I am too weak.  My Bible, my breastpin, with my mother's
+hair, and my little desk, are for Roland; my mourning ring,
+the gift of Miss Matilda, and the likeness, which you
+remember we had taken in New York, are both for you; my
+hymn-book, my knitting-bag and caba, are for Miss
+Matilda.  I bought a little book for each of the servants, when
+I was in New York; write my name in each.  You may
+do what you please with my clothes; I think, however, it
+would be well to distribute them among our little
+scholars&mdash;now I have nothing more to do with earth, but just to
+wait my Father's will; when he is ready, he will send for
+me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a picture of the Believer's Vision on the wall
+opposite to where Effie reposed, and as she lay there with
+folded hands, and sweet expression of perfect peace, Madeline
+had learned to associate the two, and ever after, would
+that touching picture speak of Effie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline, I promised Roland that I would send for
+him when the change was near; I think that it will not be
+many days before I shall be out in the blessed light of
+Heaven.  I asked the Doctor, yesterday, and he told me,
+Maddy, that it might be a very short time, or a few days,
+at farthest; will you send for Roland?  This is Thursday,
+and he could be spared better on Saturday and Sunday."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline sent a few hasty lines, and on Saturday afternoon
+he arrived, pale and sad, for he understood the message.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will stay with me, Roland, until all is over?" was
+the request of the dying girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have made all my arrangements, and will not leave
+you, darling."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I want to see Mr. Hamilton alone, Roland; I have
+something to say to him; will you tell him, dear?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline's father had learned to love the gentle blind
+girl, and when he entered, and saw the gray shadows of
+death upon her countenance, he could scarcely control his
+feelings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am going to leave you, Mr. Hamilton, and I want to
+thank you for all your kindness to poor blind Effie; I shall
+not be blind much longer, for I am going out of the darkness
+into the blessed light of Heaven; but I want to tell
+you, that weak and timid as I am, I am not afraid to die;
+my trust is in Jesus, and he never leaves me, nor forsakes
+me.  I love you, Mr. Hamilton, because you are Madeline's
+father, and I want you to be just as happy as I am&mdash;warnings
+have come to you, my good, kind friend, for these many
+months, and I want you to promise me, dying Effie, that
+you will seek the Saviour, ere it is forever too late."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Hamilton bowed his head upon his hands, and replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I often feel, Effie, as if my days would not be very
+many in this world, for I am much worse than Madeline
+dreams of.  I have not your blessed hope, my dear child,
+but I know that yours is real, is divine, and I promise you,
+Effie, to seek your Saviour; does that make you happy?"
+and Mr. Hamilton stooped down to kiss the pale cheek of
+the child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Happy! yes, Mr. Hamilton, I should be perfectly happy,
+if I could hope to meet you all up there," and she pointed
+upward, while a look of seraphic blessedness dwelt upon
+her face.  "Now, send Miss Matilda."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Miss Matilda had avoided being alone with Effie, for she
+was afraid of death.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thoughts of the dark grave, the judgment and eternity,
+were all that she ever associated with the subject.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She entered the room, and took her seat by the couch.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are not so very ill, Effie; I have seen persons
+weaker than you recover."  Effie smiled, as she replied,
+"I have no fears of death, Miss Matilda; my Saviour has
+taken them all away; I have no desire to live, but for
+Roland's sake; but I sent for you to tell you how blessed
+is the Christian's state.  My trust is all in my Saviour;
+and he will not prove untrue to his word.  You have been
+very good to poor orphan Effie, and I want to see you
+happy.  I know you are not happy now&mdash;no one can be
+who does not love God best of all; you will not be offended
+at me, Miss Matilda, for I shall soon be gone; but I want
+you to seek the Saviour."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am a member of the church, Effie; I don't know
+what you mean, exactly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I mean, dear Miss Matilda, that I want you to have
+real heart faith in Jesus; faith that makes you love him,
+trust him, follow him as your best friend."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Effie, I do believe in him, but not as you do."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is what I mean, Miss Matilda; I don't mean just
+to be a member of the church, and no more; that is not
+all; I want you to be a member of Christ himself, and that
+is by faith."
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "'Tis like Heaven below,<br>
+  My Redeemer to know,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The angels can do nothing more,<br>
+  Than to sit at his feet<br>
+  And the story repeat,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And the dear friend of sinners adore."<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>
+Miss Matilda sat bathed in tears, for she had a warm
+affectionate heart, and could not but love the little lamb
+who was pleading so sweetly the cause of her Master.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She took the pale and withered hand, and replied, "Effie,
+there is something about this, different from all that I have
+ever seen; death always seemed so terrible to me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is only terrible where sin is not pardoned; 'the
+sting of death is sin.'  Jesus has borne it all for me, and
+to me there is no sting, nor any fear of the grave, because
+he has lain there, and blessed it, Miss Matilda."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Would that I had such a trust as this," and she kissed
+the dear child, and left the room.  Sweet was the
+communion between Effie and her brother.  Roland's strong
+faith, and scriptural knowledge made him a most valuable
+treasure to the feeble girl, for as the dying hour
+approached, she had some experience of the conflict between
+the soul and body, and some slight cloud of darkness in
+her hour of weakness; but Roland sat by her, watching
+each change, praying, soothing, repeating words of
+Scripture, and the hour of temptation passed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Out in the light, dear brother; so soon at home with
+Jesus.  Read from the Revelations, Roland;" and in a
+deep, rich voice, he read,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'And there shall be no more curse; but the throne of
+God and the Lamb shall be in it; and his servants shall
+serve him: And they shall see his face; and his name shall
+be in their foreheads.  And there shall be no night there;
+and they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the
+Lord God giveth them light; and they shall reign forever
+and ever.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'And there shall be no night there,' Roland, 'but one
+eternal, glorious day;' come, Madeline, one more kiss, one
+more, Roland," and Effie clasped her dying arms around
+both as she whispered, "Love the Saviour, love Roland
+as I have loved him, Madeline, love each other, and we
+shall meet in Heaven."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They arose from that cold embrace, and as Effie lay back
+upon her pillow, softly, gently the sweet spirit departed;
+and when Madeline saw that she had gone, forgetting all
+ceremony, she took Roland's arm, and led him out into the
+garden, for Effie had departed in Madeline's sitting-room.
+He walked mechanically to an arbor, with Madeline by his
+side.  One burst of manly grief rent his bosom, for dearly
+had he loved his gentle sister, and he felt now that he was
+indeed alone.  Almost unconscious of the act, she leaned
+her head upon Roland's shoulder, and whispered,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not alone, Roland; I will take Effie's place."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You cannot, you cannot, Madeline; not Effie's," and
+ere he was aware, he passed his arm around her waist, but
+as instantly released her, as he continued pacing up and
+down the arbor; "you cannot be my sister, Madeline; I
+must be gone from here, and then I shall indeed be all
+alone."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline scarcely knew what to think of his conduct;
+if it was intended as a casting off her sisterly love, she was
+indeed mistaken in him; but that she could not believe&mdash;what
+then could he mean?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What was Roland's surprise in the evening of Effie's
+death to be called out to see a woman in the entry, and
+who should present herself but Elsie Gibson!  They had
+not seen her for many months.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Weel, Roland, ye hae lost anither&mdash;what ailed the puir
+bairn?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Consumption at last, Elsie, and she had been blind for
+months before she died."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She is at rest, Roland&mdash;but may I see her remains?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Certainly, Elsie," and the brother took the old woman
+into the room where Effie lay.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will ye gi' me a lock o' her hair, Roland?  I had a lock
+o' your mother's, and I want this for the same person."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For whom, Elsie?" was the quick reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For ane that has a right, Roland, ye'll ken some day,"
+and Elsie was allowed to cut a lock of fair hair, and folding
+it carefully in paper, she placed it in her pocket.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland remained until the day of interment; and accompanied
+by the members of Mr. Hamilton's family, and the
+children whom she had taught, he laid the dear remains
+by the side of her mother, to await the morning of the
+resurrection.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nothing further detained him at Woodcliff; indeed, he
+seemed anxious to be gone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, Miss Madeline, for all your kindness and
+devotion to my darling sister," was his last farewell.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Shall I see you again, Mr. Bruce?" was Madeline's
+inquiry, for she felt an inward conviction that Effie's death
+had removed the last tie that bound him to Woodcliff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I may, perhaps, come down to see about the grave,
+Miss Madeline, but the world has claims upon me, and I
+must fulfil them;" then suddenly changing from his cold,
+constrained manner, to one of deep feeling, he seized
+Madeline's hand, and pressing upon it one long, fond kiss, he
+said,&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Forgive me, Madeline; it is the first, the last that I
+shall ever press upon that hand.  I have had my warning,
+and I shall never intrude; but you must not forget me, I
+could not bear it; farewell! farewell!" and ere the
+astonished girl could reply, he was gone&mdash;out of the door, down
+the avenue&mdash;out of sight!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What could it all mean! sometimes so cold, then so
+impassioned!  How could she account for the conduct so
+strange!  She was not aware that Aunt Matilda had
+discovered that it was owing to Roland's influence that her
+niece had attempted authorship; nor did she know how
+much alarmed her aunt had been at the apparent intimacy
+between Roland and herself: she had witnessed also the
+scene in the arbor on the day of Effie's death, and resolved
+to break up the intercourse, if possible; accordingly, on the
+evening after the funeral, Roland was seated alone in the
+parlor, when Miss Hamilton entered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We shall miss your dear sister, Mr. Bruce, for she was
+a sweet, gentle girl, and we all loved her, and I suppose
+that it will be a long while ere we shall see you again; for
+as Effie is gone, there is no longer any thing to draw you
+to Woodcliff.  If circumstances are somewhat different, it
+would give me great pleasure to invite you freely to our
+house, but you know that we must have some regard for
+the opinions of the world, and as Madeline is now a young
+lady, it would be the height of imprudence to encourage
+such an ill-assorted intimacy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland's face flushed crimson&mdash;all the fire of his
+naturally proud temper was aroused; he bit his lips, and
+remained silent for one minute, then taking his hat, he simply
+said,&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-evening, Miss Hamilton, I am sorry to have intruded
+so long; I understand the gulf between Miss Madeline
+and myself perfectly, you have no reason to fear.  I
+am quite as proud as you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was after this interview, that he had taken leave of
+Madeline.  She was distressed, but could not understand
+what all this seeming inconsistency of conduct meant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Brother, I have been really concerned at the intimacy
+between Madeline and this young man," was the remark
+of Miss Matilda to Mr. Hamilton.  "I have found out the
+reason why she wrote that book; she would never have
+thought of such a thing, if it had not been for Roland
+Bruce; he put it into her head, and forsooth! she must
+puzzle her brains to publish this book; there is nothing
+that he has ever hinted, that she has not done; and I
+actually believe that Madeline may some day so far forget
+the dignity of her family, as to stoop to such a man as
+that."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have some fears myself, Matilda, for I observed with
+how much deference Madeline listened to all his remarks,
+and what deep sympathy she manifested with his grief;
+and I do not wonder, for he is a most remarkable young
+man."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, I have put an end to it, brother, without your
+help.  I just hinted to him that as Effie was gone, there
+would now be nothing to call him to Woodcliff; you should
+have seen the crimson blush mantling his whole face, and
+the proud bearing of the youth, as he replied, 'that he
+should intrude no more.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Does Madeline know any thing about it, Matilda?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She does not, for I fear to rouse her spirit."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And I, too," was her father's reply; "I do not believe
+that she would tolerate this if she knew it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She shall never be any the wiser, and Roland is too
+proud to tell her; he walked out of the parlor like a prince."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline had another source of disquietude&mdash;her father's
+health seemed rapidly declining, and his spirits very low;
+so much so, that his physician ordered him to Europe, and
+rapid preparations were to be made, in order that they
+might leave America in the early autumn.  Mr. Hamilton
+observed Madeline's great depression, for since Effie's
+death, he had seldom seen her smile; the old joyousness
+had vanished from her face, and the elasticity from her
+step.  She was very lonely without her dear young friend,
+and the hours spent in her sitting-room so much alone,
+were not calculated to raise her spirits.  Her walks were
+equally lonely; still she rambled to the sea-shore, and old
+Peter's cabin.  In a short time, she had placed a simple
+marble slab at the head of Effie's grave, and planted some
+flowers that she had loved around the sacred spot.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One evening she bent her footsteps to the old man's cabin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am glad to see you, Miss Madeline, for Master Roland
+was here last Monday, and left this little note if you
+should call;" and he handed her a small slip of paper, on
+which was written, "A thousand thanks for the sweet
+memento over my sister's grave; I know whose hand placed
+it there; the one whose friendship has never failed us, and
+who never can be forgotten.  I hear that you are going to
+Europe; may God preserve and bless you with his guiding
+band and sustaining grace, prays now and always, Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline read the little note with tears.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When was he here, Uncle Peter?" was her first question.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"On Monday last; he came to see about his sister's grave,
+but found everything done before he got here.  You ought
+to have seen him, Miss Madeline, when he came back from
+the grave; he sat down there," pointing to a broken chair,
+"and covering his face with his hands, he sobbed and wept
+so bitterly.  When a man cries so hard, I know there must
+be some great sorrow."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What else did he say, Uncle Peter?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He asked about you, Miss Madeline,&mdash;how you were,
+when you were here, how you looked, and if you ever
+spoke of him.  He then asked about Mr. Hamilton.  I
+told him how sick he was; he seemed so very sorry, but he
+did not say one word about Miss Matilda.  I asked him
+if he was not going up to the Hall; but he said, 'No, Effie
+was gone, and there was nothing to call him there
+now.'  Then he asked when you were going to Europe.  I said,
+'in about two weeks;' is that correct?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Uncle Peter, if we can get ready for the steamer.
+Was that all he said?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, that was all; and then he went away, and I was
+so sorry, for he seemed so sad and lonely."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline returned with a bowed head to her home; it
+was as she had expected.  Roland could not come to the
+Hall, now that Effie was gone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a comfort, however, to visit the old man, and
+Madeline's calls were frequent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One evening, strolling quietly along, her thoughts were
+dwelling sadly on the past, and with dread to the future;
+she had reached the spot where she sat on the day that she
+had first met Roland.  For one minute she stood, and
+wiped away a silent tear.  Then walking on, with her eyes
+bent upon the beach, she was conscious of nothing around
+her, until she reached the old man's cabin.  What was her
+surprise upon entering to see Roland!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He arose with a constrained manner, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Miss Madeline, I heard that you were going to Europe,
+and I felt that I must bid you farewell.  I have been here
+once before, but without success&mdash;when do you sail?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In about a week, Mr. Bruce," was the answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can I speak to you alone, Miss Hamilton?" and Roland
+offered his arm, and led her to the old rock, where
+they had so often sat in the careless days of childhood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are going to cross the wide ocean, Miss Madeline;
+will be introduced into new scenes, and will be exposed to
+the blandishments of the gay metropolis of England&mdash;do
+not forget your immortality; do not forget your early
+friend.  I know that they will try to banish me from your
+memory; but Madeline, by all the tenderness of childhood's
+days, remember, if not me, remember all that I have told
+you&mdash;you cannot know the loneliness which I have suffered
+ever since Effie's death, and I cannot bear to think that you
+can ever forget me.  I ask only your friendship, your
+prayers."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline's voice trembled as she asked,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why is it that you come no more to Woodcliff?  we
+should be so glad to see you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland smiled bitterly, as he replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Perhaps so, Madeline; but I have good reasons; you
+may know them some day.  When you go to England,
+among the rest of your visits, do not forget the benevolent
+institutions; get all the information that you can; and
+when you return to America, you will be better prepared
+to follow out your plans for good; we shall have the
+pleasure then of knowing that although separated, we are
+co-workers for the same great end."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They continued in such conversation for some time
+longer; at length the shadows of evening warned them that
+it was time to part.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Farewell, Madeline!" and Roland seized the little hand
+extended so frankly, pressing it tenderly between both of
+his own.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Farewell, Roland; be assured that I shall never forget
+you, and when I say this, I mean all that I say&mdash;God bless
+you, Roland, forever and ever; he will bring you back to
+Woodcliff to bless its people.  I have never lost that faith,
+Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the end of the lane which led to the shore, they
+parted; and as Madeline walked slowly up the road that
+led to the gate of her own home, turning back, she still
+saw Roland gazing after her, and waving his hand, as she
+vanished up the avenue.
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap21"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XXI.
+<br><br>
+SEARCHING FOR SCOTTISH FRIENDS.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+"And now for earnest working," thought Roland, as he
+turned wearily away from the one cherished spot; "it is a
+hard trial to part from such a friend, but it is evidently my
+Father's will, that alone I must still pursue my way; I
+must not indulge in vain regrets, but 'Looking aloft,' I will
+endeavor to do whatsoever my hand findeth to do with
+diligence and single-hearted devotion."  Day by day,
+Roland gathered the heavenly manna, and drank of the spiritual
+rock; thus strengthened, he returned with renewed zeal to
+the duties of his daily life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Whither so fast, my friend?" cried a familiar voice, as
+he was threading his way along the busy streets of New
+York.  Turning quickly, he perceived his college friend,
+Edmund Norris.  Grasping Roland's hand, he said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are the very one that I want to see; I am going
+to Europe, and must have a companion; my mother will
+hear of none but you, Roland; come, old fellow! just say
+that you will go; I will bear your expenses, and we shall
+have a grand time together."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How long will you be absent, Edmund?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"About one year; perhaps longer."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is your plan?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I propose visiting the continent, England, Scotland, and
+Ireland; my mother is not willing to trust her wild son
+with any one else; when will you give me an answer,
+Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To-morrow, if you will call at my office, No. 12,
+Beekman street."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This offer seemed most opportune.  He had no domestic
+tie to keep him in America, and here was the opportunity
+which he had so long desired, to visit his native land, and
+search for his relations, if any he had left.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will go, Edmund," was his reply; "when shall we sail?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In the first steamer; I wish to be there early in the
+fall."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall be ready, Edmund; I can leave my business in
+the hands of a young man in my office."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Thornlys were especially sorry to lose the young
+inmate; and Helen's pale cheek and depressed spirits
+betrayed the interest which she felt in the young man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will write to Edgar, Mr. Bruce, I hope," was her
+last injunction.  "I should not be surprised if you should
+meet Miss Hamilton abroad, for they have all gone for her
+father's health, to consult London physicians."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Farewell, Miss Helen, I shall always be grateful for
+your kindness."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland did not see the tear which trembled on her cheek,
+as she turned away to hide her emotion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When he reached the vessel, a handsome dressing-case,
+a sea wrapper, slippers, and cap, with the kind regards of
+Mr. Thornly, awaited him, with the label, "A small
+acknowledgment of benefits conferred upon Edgar, by his
+grateful father."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A swift passage across the Atlantic, in very fine weather,
+brought them to their desired haven.  It had been keenly
+enjoyed by Roland, for the sight of the wide expanse of
+ocean was exhilarating to a soul like his.  When first
+espying the white cliffs of Dover, he mentally asked, "shall I
+find any kindred in my native land, or am I still to wander
+alone in this wide world?  Be that as my Father wills; I
+have kindred there," looking upward, "they await my
+coming."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was so young when he first left Scotland, that much
+of the impression had vanished, and the present, therefore,
+had all the charm of novelty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Taking a steamer, they crossed the Channel, and after a
+short journey on land, found themselves among the crowds
+of Paris, wending their way alone, in search of lodgings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Taking rooms together, they soon realized that their
+surroundings were totally different from America; and curiosity
+for a few days kept them busy visiting the lions of the
+brilliant city, and making themselves acquainted with its
+numerous works of art, and countless attractions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as Edmund became a little domesticated, Roland
+took tickets for their attendance upon a course of scientific
+lectures, in one of the best institutions of the great
+city.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was an important advantage to study with such a
+friend; for Roland's comprehensive mind, and clear
+intellect took in all that was demonstrated, and many a maze
+of perplexed reasoning was made clear to Edmund by the
+keen analysis of Roland's superior powers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You must not expect me to visit the vicious amusements
+of Paris, Edmund, my principles forbid this; but, if
+you must see all, Mr. Lisle, a young American, of fine
+moral character, is here, and will escort you; he is a safe
+guide; I hope that you will see the real tendency of sinful
+pleasures, and learn to value something higher."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Just let me tell you, Roland, about the opera," said
+Edmund, one night, after his return, "it was splendid; the
+music was enchanting, the Emperor and Empress were
+both present&mdash;what a cold, dead, statuesque face he has!
+That beautiful woman cannot love him, I am sure; you
+should see Eugenie, she is truly an elegant woman, and her
+dress was perfect.  I don't believe that there is much love
+for the Emperor here, for, although the audience noticed
+his presence, by a 'Vive l'Empereur,' there was no heart
+in it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You only saw the outside of the opera, Edmund; you
+did not follow the multitude who crowd gambling saloons,
+and other vicious places of resort after the opera was over.
+I should be sorry to see you escorted there by any of these
+gay young Frenchmen; while I feel as if I have no right
+to put actual restrictions upon your liberty, I trust that you
+will promise me one thing, Edmund."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is that, Roland?  You are so reasonable with
+me, so considerate, that I think I may safely promise."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will find that there is no Sabbath in Paris; that is,
+no Christian Sabbath; people attend to business and seek
+their pleasure more on that day than on any other.  I want
+you to promise that you will attend upon the Evangelical
+Chapel on Sunday, and avoid the places of public amusement."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can easily promise that, Roland, for I feel shocked
+myself at what I see."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a refreshing season to Roland, when he could turn
+aside from the gay glittering world around him, and
+worship his God with many of the wise and good of all
+Protestant churches.  Sometimes American ministers led the
+devotions of the day, and he could then join in the familiar
+hymns of his childhood and youth, even in the midst of an
+infidel and dissolute capital.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Who is that young man?" said Dr. M. to Henry Lisle,
+"I have observed his devotional aspect; I think he is a
+stranger; I really feel as if I should like to make his
+acquaintance."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is a young Scotchman; he has lived most of his
+life in America, and is here with a friend, whose studies
+he is directing."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you know him, Lisle? if so, introduce me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After the services, Dr. M. was made acquainted with
+Roland, and he began to feel not quite so much alone in the
+great world.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the rooms of Dr. M. he was privileged to meet what
+was really the choice society of Paris.  The good and wise
+frequently assembled at his apartments, and Roland and
+Edmund were, at all times, welcome guests.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Dr. M. had heard from Edmund something of his history,
+and having struggled himself in his early days, deeply
+sympathized with the brave young spirit of Roland Bruce.
+Sometimes, they were invited to the saloons of French
+philosophers, but the skeptical spirit, everywhere
+manifested, led Roland to be very careful how he exposed his
+young friend to such influences.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The halls of art were crowded with the finest specimens
+of distinguished artists, both of ancient and modern days;
+and our young friends spent many hours in examining these
+wondrous triumphs of human skill.  The winter passed
+rapidly; early in the spring, they visited Switzerland,
+explored its natural beauties, passed through Germany, sailed
+upon the Rhine, and recrossing the Channel, found
+themselves in London, at the opening of the gay season.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was pleased at the improvement manifested in
+Edmund; he was learning to distinguish between the good
+and the vile, and his friend felt as if he might trust him
+while in London, without his supervision, which he knew he
+must do, when he should visit Scotland, or else leave him
+in one of the Scottish cities.  Roland busied himself for
+awhile in seeing the sights of London, and in visiting the
+ragged schools, and other benevolent institutions, by which
+he gained many valuable hints from those so much longer
+engaged in such good works.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Taking up the paper one morning, he read a glaring
+account of a drawing-room, when the Queen of England
+gave one of her receptions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A rapturous description was given of the first appearance
+of Miss Hamilton, a young American.  Her beauty, her
+grace, her manners were descanted upon.  The perfect ease
+of her deportment, as she advanced under the escort of the
+American Minister, was described; and a brilliant season
+prophesied for the young heiress of Woodcliff.  She was
+particularly distinguished by the Queen, who, contrary to
+her general practice, made some especial remarks to her
+about her country.  Madeline's blushing acknowledgment
+of Her Majesty's notice was much enlarged upon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland read the account with mingled feelings; but pain
+was uppermost, for he feared that the very novelty of the
+scene would insensibly draw her heart away from better
+things.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edmund having brought letters of introduction was
+presented on the same day.  He came home to Roland in
+ecstacies of delight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You should have seen the blaze of English beauty; but
+it was nothing compared to the young American, Miss
+Hamilton; theirs was rich, blooming, rosy, the glow of full
+redundant health, and the grace and ease of high birth;
+hers was spiritual! delicate! bewitching! none could tell
+which was the most beautiful; hair, eyes, coloring, or
+expression, but one exquisite combination of all that can
+attract in woman.  Then her ease, her simplicity, her
+apparent unconsciousness, was the theme of every tongue.
+Her dress was perfect; her pure white lace, with moss-rose
+buds, and a set of pearls, softened still more her delicate
+beauty; she managed her train, Roland, as if she had
+dwelt in the presence of royalty all her life, stepping backward
+so gracefully, I could imagine the pretty little foot, by
+the beautiful hand and arm.  I declare, Roland, I was
+proud of our young American.  I'll warrant she has a
+royal nature, royal in its highest sense; you ought to have
+seen her, Roland.  I waited until the drawing-room was
+dismissed, and stood at the door, to see her handed to her
+carriage by Lord N&mdash;&mdash;, an elegant young nobleman; did
+not I envy the fellow, Roland?  I'll find out where she
+stays, and, mark me!  I'll have an introduction before the
+month is over."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was amused at Edmund's enthusiasm, and troubled
+at the account of the impression made in the world of
+fashion by his peerless young friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In the gay metropolis, with all her attractions, will she
+be kept unscathed?" whispered Roland to his heart.  "Looking
+aloft" for her, as well as for himself, he felt the blessedness
+of remembering her in his daily prayers, and never was
+Madeline forgotten.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edmund frequently alluded to his want of success in
+obtaining Miss Hamilton's direction, but one day, he came in
+full of glee: "Lisle is here, Roland; he knows Lord N&mdash;&mdash;,
+and he will inquire of him for Miss Hamilton; he has letters
+of introduction to some of the nobles of England, and is as
+much interested as I in trying to find out where she is.
+The Duke of D&mdash;&mdash; will give a ball next week, Lisle is
+invited; he will get an introduction for me before that time,
+and I shall then meet Miss Hamilton."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edmund seemed possessed with this one idea of obtaining
+an introduction to the reigning star.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Congratulate me, Roland; the Duke of D&mdash;&mdash; called
+yesterday on Lisle while I was there; I was introduced as
+Lisle's young American friend, and to-day I have a card for
+the ball."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nothing else was talked of but the coming ball.  Edmund's
+head was full of the anticipated pleasure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The evening came and passed.  Next day, Edmund was
+in a high state of excitement.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was introduced, Roland, to Miss Hamilton, but that
+was all, I could get no nearer; she was surrounded by
+admirers&mdash;the Duke of D&mdash;&mdash;, and the Earl of M&mdash;&mdash;, Lord
+B&mdash;&mdash;, and Lord G&mdash;&mdash;, but most of all, Lord N&mdash;&mdash;, were
+devoted in their attentions.  If her young head is not turned
+by all this, I shall proclaim her a wonder.  Lord N&mdash;&mdash; is
+a handsome young nobleman, with that respectful deference
+to ladies, and especially to Miss Hamilton, which I think
+would captivate such a girl."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was compelled to listen silently, for he had not
+told Edmund that he had ever seen Madeline; but every
+word was painful, for he felt the ordeal to be so
+severe&mdash;would she come out unharmed?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I went last night to the opera, Roland; Miss Hamilton
+was there, attended by her father and Lord N&mdash;&mdash;.
+Mr. Hamilton looked so proud of his beautiful daughter, and no
+wonder; nothing to compare to her could be seen anywhere
+last night; eye-glasses were levelled at her from all
+quarters, but I really don't believe that she knew it, and, if
+she did, she certainly did not betray it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland attended weekly upon the services of the
+Rev. Mr. B&mdash;&mdash;, a minister of the establishment, simply on
+account of the earnest spirituality of his preaching.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the next Sunday, whom should he see advancing up
+the aisle, in a simple modest dress, with a close bonnet and
+veil, but Madeline, attended by her father and aunt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Several pew-doors were opened, but the sexton led them
+forward to a pew, where sat a young lady and gentleman of
+high rank.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is Lord N&mdash;&mdash;," whispered Edmund to Roland,
+for he had observed the party.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline was earnest, devout, prayerful, and listened to
+the sermon with such an humble, serious manner, as to lead
+Roland to hope that she was yet the simple, earnest child
+of Woodcliff.  Lord N&mdash;&mdash; and his sister were equally
+devout, and Roland felt that the deportment of the young
+man in church was just such as was calculated to please
+one like Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was pleasant to worship God in the same house with
+his friend, to sing the same hymns, and use the solemn
+words of the same beautiful service.  The service ended,
+Roland paused a moment at the door, hoping to receive one
+passing glance, but Madeline walked out, closely attended
+by Lord N&mdash;&mdash;, who handed the party to their carriage, ere
+he entered his own; she did not even see Roland.  His
+heart sank, for he could not bear to think himself forgotten.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edmund still continued to rave about Madeline, telling
+whenever he met her, and running on in the same strain
+about her beauty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The next Sunday, Roland bent his steps to the Ragged
+School in one of the lanes of London.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When he entered, he was surprised to see several ladies
+of rank in the audience.  It was a novel sight, for there
+were large numbers present from the very lowest haunts,
+clothed in rags and filth, even up to those who had adopted
+some of the customs of civilized humanity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Far up the room, he thought that he saw a familiar form;
+he advanced, and attended by Lord N&mdash;&mdash; and his sister,
+sat Madeline, in all the sweet simplicity of her girlish days.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She saw Roland, a bright smile welcomed him, and he
+stepped forward extending his hand, his honest, strong,
+guiding hand; the very touch was strength to Madeline.
+No more salutations were exchanged until the close of the
+services.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How came you here, Miss Madeline?" was the first question.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Did you not tell me to visit such places when I came
+to London, Mr. Bruce?" was the frank, artless answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, Miss Madeline for the remembrance; have
+you learned anything by your visits?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A great deal, for Lord N&mdash;&mdash; and Lady Alice are both
+interested in these good works, and they have told me
+the various ways by which these poor creatures may be
+reached."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"London and its gayeties have not then wholly obliterated
+your desires to do good, Miss Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"By no means, Mr. Bruce," replied Madeline, with one
+of her brightest smiles; "I am only anxious to be once
+more at Woodcliff to put some of my plans into practice."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How is Mr. Hamilton, Miss Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Rather better; we see that London air agrees with
+him, and shall, therefore, stay longer in England than we
+had at first intended."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was a short, but pleasant interview, and Roland
+felt cheered by the few hasty words dropped by Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Passing through the streets of London one day, he
+observed Madeline in a carriage with the lady whom she
+styled Lady Alice&mdash;it was evidently a nobleman's carriage
+by the coronet on the pannels.  He sighed as he thought
+of the great distance between them socially, but could not
+resist the opportunity of watching the carriage, which
+stopped at the door of a store; the ladies dismounted, and
+entered the store; waiting for them to return to the
+carriage, Roland inquired whose carriage it was, and the
+direction of their residence.  Having obtained information, he
+walked to the spot, and saw the elegant mansion where
+Madeline was staying&mdash;what folly! thought he, to suppose
+that she can ever regard me in any other light than an
+humble friend; but it is a pleasure to see her.  He had not
+stood many minutes, ere he perceived a lady's form standing
+near the drawing-room window; she looked out, but
+not observing Roland, who stood concealed behind a tree.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Soon he heard voices, for the window was open; and in
+a few minutes more, the rich melody of Madeline's notes,
+singing a new and brilliant piece.  He stood sorrowfully,
+for why should he thus haunt her dwelling to hang upon a
+voice, which the friendship of early days had given him a
+right to hear still in the intimate communion of a congenial
+spirit.  It seemed a cold barrier of society which thus shut
+him out, and which he sometimes felt he must dare to
+batter down.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The season was passing rapidly; and Roland began to
+prepare for his northern tour.  Edmund had concluded to
+accompany him, for he had not made the progress in
+Madeline's acquaintance that he desired.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His journey through England was truly delightful&mdash;like
+a beautiful garden, every corner was highly cultivated;
+gentlemen's country seats, noblemen's splendid palaces and
+parks, picturesque villages, and shady, green lanes
+everywhere met his eye, and though unlike the grand features
+of American scenery, the panorama had all the charm of a
+lovely picture of domestic ease and elegance, the charm
+which dwells so especially among English homes.  Stopping
+awhile at the Lakes of Westmoreland, they explored
+its exquisite beauties, so often the subject of the painter's
+pencil, and the poet's pen; and passing on, travelled more
+rapidly, until they reached Edinburgh; visiting many spots
+of historic interest.  Roland stayed a few days, and then
+turned his face towards his native hills, leaving Edmund
+in Edinburgh, until he should hear from him.
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap22"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XXII.
+<br><br>
+MIST ON THE MOUNTAIN.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+November, with its chilly winds, finds Roland a traveller
+in Scotland.  He has the directions given by his mother,
+and has to cross a mountain region in a stage, ere he
+reaches his native village.  It is a lonely journey, for he is
+the only passenger; and a heavy Scotch mist is rapidly
+falling over the dreary landscape; distant mountains are
+first enveloped, then trees and bushes, and last even the
+scattered houses along the road-side, until all is darkness
+and gloom.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had heard of a Scotch mist, but could never have
+conceived of anything so murky, so dense, and yet behind
+it all was the bright and cheering sun.  So is the experience
+of human life, often enveloped in heavy clouds, shrouded
+in darkness; yet beyond, God our Father sits guiding the
+changes of our destiny.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Evening approached&mdash;no human beings could be seen;
+and nothing disturbed the solitude, save the muffled lowing
+of the cattle through the heavy atmosphere, the bleating
+of sheep, and the faint tinkling of the bells which they
+wear to direct their guides.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No signs betokened their approach to human habitations;
+as yet no beacon pointed to his native village, and there
+may be no voice of kindred to welcome him to his mother's
+home.  So impenetrable was the darkness, that the stage
+stopped for the night.  It was a gloomy period in Roland's
+young life&mdash;but never did the brave spirit forget his motto;
+"Looking aloft!" through mist, through clouds and darkness,
+he slept the blessed rest of perfect trust.  He woke
+in the morning to see the first bright rays of the rising sun
+beaming through his shutters; opening them, Roland looked
+out upon a scene of surpassing grandeur; lofty mountains
+in the distance, range after range, over which the sun was
+rising in all his majesty, thick heavy woodland wearing the
+dusky hues of autumn, flocks of sheep under the care of
+their guides, here and there the shepherds' huts, and over
+all, the bright sunlight flooding the landscape with his
+glory, and tinging the clouds of mist with prismatic hues,
+as they rolled away, and mingled with the higher
+atmosphere, leaving the landscape all revealed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was cheered by the sight.  "So may it be at
+last with my destiny," thought the youth; "if I seek God's
+glory in all, he will fulfil his promises."  After a hearty
+breakfast of hot bannocks and milk, Roland resumed his
+journey, and referred to the driver for information
+concerning the rest of his journey.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How far are we from Glendale, driver?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aboot tharty mile or mair, I ken."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you know the family of the Gordons?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do ye mean the family o' the auld minister, David Gordon?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The same," was Roland's reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The auld minister bae gane to his rest these mony years;
+I dinna ken how lang syne."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"His son and daughter?" continued Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Baith gane hame."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland bowed his head, for now he felt his desolation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is there no one there, driver, who can give me any
+information concerning them?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, there is the auld servant, Jennie Scott; she lives
+near by the auld manse."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a few hours, Roland found himself approaching his
+native village; he had some remembrance of these familiar
+scenes; the lake where he had rowed in his childhood with
+Uncle Alick, the manse with its grove of old trees, and
+the kirk not far off, he found were realities that had their
+picture hung up in the halls of memory.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stopping at the village-inn he sought out the old servant.
+Knocking at the cottage door, a face somewhat familiar
+presented itself.  "Is this Jennie Scott?" asked Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is so, please your honor; will ye sit doon, sir, in my
+humble cottage?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you remember Roland Bruce, the little son of Mary
+Gordon, Jennie?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do I remember the bairn that I nursed so lang in these
+auld arms?  Can I e'er forget the bonny chiel?  Mine were
+the first arms that held him after he breathed the breath o'
+life&mdash;can ye tell me ony thing aboot the lad?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He stands before you, Jennie," and Roland seized the
+hand of his old nurse, while she threw herself upon his
+bosom, and wept for joy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It canna' be,&mdash;he was sic a wee bairn when I saw him
+last, and now sic a braw an' winsome mon.  Bless the
+Lord!  O, my soul, for a' his guidness to his auld servant."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland then told the old woman something of his
+history, and what had brought him to Scotland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye've came too late, my son; the auld minister has been
+dead these ten years.  O, he greeted sair for ye, my bairn.
+Miss Ellen died in twa years after that, and Mr. Alick twa
+years ago; ye've nae mother's kin in Scotland, that I ken,
+Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And none in America, my old friend, my mother and
+sister both sleep in Jesus, and I am alone in the wide
+world; but then, God is my Father&mdash;can I visit the old
+manse, Jennie?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, my bairn, I keep the key, for I gang owre there
+every few weeks to luik after the furniture, and to keep it
+a' clean."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How is it, Jennie, that it is not inhabited?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, Mr. Alick ordered, when he died, that it sud be
+kept closed for three years, and if nane came to claim it
+then, that it might be sold, for it belanged to the auld
+minister, Roland, and Mr. Alick hoped that the right heir
+might come some day."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Jennie led the way to the old homestead, and as they
+advanced, tears would force themselves into Roland's
+eyes, as he recognized the familiar porch, and one old tree,
+where he had so often played.  She opened the shutters,
+and let in the light of day.  All was in a state of perfect
+neatness and order.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The family-parlor was so comfortable, from which a glass
+door opened into the minister's study.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+How sacred it appeared!  The study-table where he had
+prepared so many sermons for his flock&mdash;the old arm-chair
+where he had sat&mdash;the couch where he had reclined when
+weary&mdash;the book-case, with its shelves of devotional books,
+and the best authors of the Scottish Church; and on the
+study-table, his old Bible marked from the Old to the New
+Testament by his own venerable hands.  In a table-drawer,
+lay his spectacles, the inkstand that he used, and
+even the pen with which he wrote.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look here, Roland! at this carpet," said Jennie, as she
+pointed to the spot so worn by the old man's knees, for he
+always knelt in one particular place.  "This is a sacred
+room, Roland, an' I hae always been sae happy to ken
+that nae stranger has e'er come in here amang the auld
+minister's books."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From the study, they passed into his mother's room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There stood the cradle, and the rocking-chair, in which
+she had sat, to nurse her babes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Jennie took up her apron to wipe her old eyes as she
+said,&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How mony times hae I seen Mary Gordon, when she
+thought naebody saw her, weep owre the cradle, as she
+rocked her babes to sleep; but she was a guid woman,
+Roland, an' a true an' faithful wife.  Is yer father living,
+my son?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is a hard question to answer, Jennie; it has
+always been said that he was lost at sea, but strange
+things have happened to make me sometimes think he
+may yet be alive."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He was aye a sad an' gloomy mon, Roland; I sud na
+wonder if he were crazed at last."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can you tell me anything about Malcolm Graham,
+Jennie?  I must see him soon."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He lives aboot twenty miles frae here, up on the side
+o' the mountain; he is called far an' nigh 'guid Uncle
+Malcolm;' he only lives to do guid, Roland; he has charge
+o' a' your property, an' can tell ye a' that ye need."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The place where they stood was full of sad memories,
+and the longer he remained, the more familiar he became.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why here, Jennie, is the very wheel-barrow that Uncle
+Alick brought me all the way from Edinburgh; many a
+time have I filled it with pebbles, and emptied them into
+the lake," and Roland picked up the toy, and regarded it
+tenderly, even as an old friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Let us go now, Jennie, for I must make some preparations
+to visit Uncle Malcolm."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye maun gang amang some o' your grandfather's people
+first, Roland; they wud be sair grieved if ye gang awa'
+without seeing them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will stay over the Sabbath, Jennie, if you can keep
+me at your little cottage, for I want to go to the old kirk,
+where my mother worshipped God."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The weeds in the little garden around the house, and the
+neglected look of the grounds, spoke volumes to Roland's
+heart of the dear ones who had vanished from the old
+manse, and of the busy hands now silent in the grave.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is that, Jennie?" said Roland, as he observed
+a little mound under an old tree, with a piece of board at
+the head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Read the words, Roland, an' ye'll see what lies buried
+there."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here lies old Shep, the faithful dog; for twelve years
+he served his master."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I remember him, Jennie; many a time has he carried
+me on his back."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This auld place is fu' o' death, Roland, but it is just as
+fu' o' hope; for a' wha hae gane before, hae died the death
+o' the righteous; an' they a' sleep in the Lord."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland spent the days between this and the Sabbath in
+rambling about, and in company with old Jennie visiting
+his grandfather's parishioners.  They all expressed great
+joy on seeing the young man, and observed universally the
+likeness to his father.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But he has nane o' the gloom," said the old sexton;
+"he has the same black hair an' dark e'en, but the look is
+a' upward an' bright, as if he walked wi' his grandfather's
+God."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the Sabbath day, in company with old Jennie Scott,
+he walked up the aisle of the old kirk.  She was a proud
+woman on that day&mdash;for was not she walking wi' her minister's
+grandson? the handsomest, the noblest, an' the best o' a'
+the young men around Glencoe?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He sat in his mother's seat, and used the old book which
+contained her name.  On the fly-leaf was written&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Malcolm Graham, sailed on the first day of March, 1807.
+May God be with him to bless and keep him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On another leaf was written&mdash;"Mary Gordon, married
+to Stephen Bruce, Oct. 1st, 1811.  May God bless the union
+with peace."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland's tears dropped over these silent memorials, but it
+was a blessed thought that all the cares and trials of that
+beloved mother were over forever; and as he now joined
+in the psalms which she had often sung in the pew of her
+own kirk, so he hoped in the church triumphant to sing
+with her and Effie the song of Moses and the Lamb.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After the service, he visited the graves of his kindred,
+and with true delicacy, none of the plain Scotch people
+intruded upon his solitude, as he stood in silence around the
+sacred spot.  "What a blessing to have godly ancestors!"
+thought Roland; "followed all my life by earnest prayer,
+God has shielded and blessed me thus far with the knowledge
+of himself as my reconciled Father in Christ Jesus."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Many were the warm greetings which met him at the
+church gate; and many the blessings that were showered
+upon him by the people who loved the memory of their
+dear old minister.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I must go, Jennie," said Roland, when Monday morning
+came.  "I am anxious to find Uncle Malcolm."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye will see me again before ye return to America?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O, yes, Jennie; I will be sure to return."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a cold, bleak morning, when he started.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think we are going to hae a snow-storm, Roland; had
+ye na better wait a day or twa?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think not, Jennie; I can get along very well;" and he
+would not hear of farther delay.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I ken the signs around these dark mountains, Roland;
+we shall hae a heavy fa' o' snaw before nicht&mdash;the stage
+will only tak' ye within three miles o' Malcolm's house,
+an' it will be a dark journey on foot in a snaw-storm."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God is with me, Jennie; I must go."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Fare ye weel! my bairn, till we meet again," said the
+old woman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Taking up his carpet-bag, and seeing his trunk carefully
+deposited, he started on his journey.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a raw, chilly morning; he had provided himself
+with a tartan plaid, and wrapping himself in its heavy folds,
+he took his seat in the stage.  The wind sighed heavily as
+though a storm was really brewing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We shall hae to plew through heavy drifts before we
+reach the end o' our journey," said the driver.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As they ascended the road, the animals were well aware
+of what was coming; and the wild mountain birds screamed
+around them with foreboding warnings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a short time, the snow commenced falling; at first,
+skurrying in little gusts of driving wind, then more and
+more thickly, until they were in the midst of a heavy
+mountain storm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The atmosphere was filled with the flakes, which, driven
+by fierce winds, drifted on the side of the road.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+More and more difficult became the travelling; the poor
+jaded horses could scarcely drag the vehicle through the
+piles of snow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stopping for dinner at a road-side inn, the landlord looked
+out upon the storm with a serious countenance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is a pity, young mon, that ye cam' oot in sic a storm;
+it will be fearfu' before nightfa'; perhaps ye had better
+bide wi' us until the mornin' breaks."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, I must push on;" for Roland was not one to be
+daunted by difficulties.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hae ye ever been oot in a Scotch snaw-storm on the
+mountains, my lad?  Ye dinna' ken what ye hae to encounter."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have not," was the reply; "but I shall only have
+three miles to walk, and that will be easier, I think, than
+riding."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Walk in sic a storm!  I am sorry for the mon that tries
+it this dark night."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The stage started; the storm increased; it was a weary
+drag through the piled up snow: and yet it was still falling
+thicker, faster, while the wind was raging; frequently, the
+horses had to pause; and it was late, indeed quite night,
+when they halted at the stopping place.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The driver directed Roland how to find the road to
+Graham Hall; indeed, to be sure that he had the right
+start, he walked with him some distance, until he was
+fairly on the track.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was up a by-road that he was now walking.  He was
+directed to go straight-forward until he came to a gate, that
+led directly to Malcolm's house, about one mile distant.  It
+was a weary journey, more difficult than he had imagined;
+the beating of the snow in his face, and the tremendous
+power of the wind against which he was struggling,
+frequently overpowered him; and he had to stand still with
+his back to the storm, to recover himself for fresh efforts;
+his feet were growing benumbed, his mouth stiffened, and
+the feeling of weariness almost compelling him to lie down
+to sleep, was creeping slowly over him.  Still he persevered,
+and roused all his energies to shake off the lethargy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In his carpet-bag, he remembered a small flask of wine
+which Jennie had thoughtfully placed there; taking a
+mouthful, he felt revived.  But he certainly ought to be
+near the gate; he had walked so long, and yet he could
+find none.  He must be lost&mdash;what was now to be done?
+He stood silent for a minute, prayed for guidance, strained
+eyes and ears for some direction.  At last, he heard the
+bark of a dog; he did not seem very far off.  Roland
+whistled, and advancing a few steps farther, he thought he
+saw a light, very dim in the midst of the falling snow, but
+still there was really a faint glimmer; he tried to follow it,
+and as he advanced, it became brighter; then he felt that
+he was in the right path to a human habitation.  He
+hallooed, as loud as his failing strength would allow, several
+times; the light moved, another light was visible; it was
+certainly approaching; in a minute, a dog bounded through
+the drifts, and barked loud and long.  "Dinna' be alarmed,"
+cried a man's voice, "he is only telling us that he has
+found ye."  In another second a man appeared with a
+lantern.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye hae been oot in a sair storm, my friend; follow me,
+an' I will bring ye to a safe harbor."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am searching for Malcolm Graham," was the reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hoot awa', mon! ye are far oot o' the way; it is a
+guid thing that I found ye in time."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Taking Roland by the arm, he led him forward through
+the drifts, to the door of his humble cottage, where his
+good wife stood waiting her husband's return.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Throw me my tartan, wife," cried the man; "here is a
+lost traveller, an' I am ganging to guide him to Graham Hall;
+gi' the dogs the lanterns; come, Jack, come, Joan,"
+continued the man, as he fastened the small lanterns with
+reflectors, around the dogs' necks.  "We are safe enow,
+sir, for these tykes ken every turn o' these mountain
+roads."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They bounded off with a cheery bark, and threading
+their way skilfully by the side of the drifts, our travellers
+followed the lights with quickened pace.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bright lights beaming from several windows suddenly
+burst upon them.  "We are at Graham Hall, sir," said the
+shepherd; and hastily stepping up on the front piazza, he
+rapped loud with the iron lion's head that served for
+knocker at the great hall door.  The master presented
+himself.  "Why, Sandy Armstrong, what brought ye oot in
+sic a night as this?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hae found a lost traveller searchin' for Graham Hall,
+sir; an' I hae brought him safely to ye; but he is sairly
+worn oot."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come in, sir, and we shall soon see what the warm
+fires and blankets o' Graham Hall can do for ye, my young
+friend."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Guid night, sir," said Sandy, and Roland thanked the
+kind man for his safe escort.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Won't ye tak' some warm negus, Sandys?" said the master.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank ye kindly, sir, but I maun hasten back; the
+snow is falling still heavily."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland stood for one minute, in the midst of a large hall,
+while the master removed his tartan, knocked the snow off
+his boots, and hung his cap upon the pegs, where the
+master's hunting-dress, his powder-horn, and game-bag,
+indicated his love for mountain sports.  A set of antlers
+mounted the hall-door, and some hunting pictures adorned
+the wall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye are weak and sick, sir," was the kind salutation;
+"tak' my arm," and Malcolm Graham led Roland into a
+bright family room, where a large wood fire blazed upon
+the hearth of a Franklin stove&mdash;the rich, dark carpet, the
+heavy oak furniture, old fashioned chairs, and pictures of
+Highland scenery gave an air of charming comfort to the
+apartment, which was truly grateful to the sick and jaded
+traveller.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lie down, sir, on the couch;" and Malcolm beat up the
+soft chintz cushions with the tenderness of a woman, as he
+laid Roland down on the comfortable lounge.  Perceiving
+that Roland made several attempts to speak, the master
+continued,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dinna talk, there is plenty o' time for that; I will be
+back in a minute," and speedily returning, he sat down by
+the side of the young man, watching his motions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here, brother, is the negus," said a lady, opening the
+door slightly; and Malcolm handed it to Roland.  The warm
+drink speedily restored vitality to his frame; then taking
+off his boots, his kind host rubbed his feet briskly, dropping
+cheering words as he performed the service.  By this time,
+Roland was sufficiently recovered to look around him; and
+first he glanced at the tall and noble-looking man that
+waited upon him.  The dark gray eyes expressed a world
+of feeling, and the mouth, though firm, was loving as a
+woman's.  'Tis true that the fine head was partially bald,
+and the hair that remained was silvered with marks of
+time, but there was that about Malcolm Graham that won
+Roland's heart at once.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you know, sir, whom you are befriending?" was
+Roland's first remark.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, sir, a' that I ken is that ye are a stranger, an' I
+took ye in."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is fitting that you should know&mdash;my name is Roland
+Bruce, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Malcolm's color changed, as, seizing the young man's
+hand, he exclaimed: "Mary Gordon's son!  I thank thee,
+O, my Father!" and Malcolm hid his face in his handkerchief
+to conceal the storm of mixed emotions which swept
+over his countenance, and shook his frame.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I came from America to search for my relations; but I
+find none of my mother's kindred left.  I am truly alone in
+the wide world; she bade me search for you also."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not alone, Roland; Mary's son is my especial care, and
+my heart opens wide to receive ye; come to my arms, my
+son, and let me press my lips upon yer young brow."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For that warm embrace, the friendship of future years
+was sealed, and the two were no more strangers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Malcolm opened the door and called, "Annie, I hae some
+one to introduce to ye," and his sister, Mrs. Lindsay,
+entered the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is Mary Gordon's son, Annie; ye will luve him for
+my sake."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The lady greeted him warmly.  "Ye are welcome to our
+fireside, Roland; but ye maun be very hungry;" and the
+good lady hastened away, to order a warm supper for the
+weary guest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The door opened softly, and a young face peeped shyly in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come in, Annot," said her uncle; and a little fairy of
+fifteen, with a profusion of light, curly hair, and a dancing
+step, advanced shyly to the couch.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Shake hands wi' Mr. Bruce, Annot; he has come to stay
+wi' us, my luve; he is the chiel o' a vera dear friend of
+Uncle Malcolm."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am glad to see ye, sir; I luve ilka body that Uncle
+Malcolm loves."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another applicant for introduction, in the form of a large
+family dog that lay ensconced on a rug by the fire, had long
+been asserting his claims to notice, by repeatedly putting
+up his shaggy paw, and looking up in his master's face, for
+his share in the ceremonies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I maun na' forget auld Lion, Roland; come here, auld
+fellow!" and the dog, wagging his tail, put up his rough
+paw to salute Roland; at the same time, expressing his
+satisfaction by a low growl, that he meant to be
+musical&mdash;at any rate, it expressed good-will.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Soon a neat-looking Highland girl entered, and spreading
+the table, she placed upon it sundry grateful viands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hannah!" said Mrs. Lindsay, "tell Dugald to kindle a
+fire in the minister's room."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And now, Roland, see if ye can tak' some supper," said
+the master, as he led his young friend to the table.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He ate sparingly of the profusion spread around him, for
+his appetite had not yet returned, but the feeling of perfect
+comfort was such a rest, that it was refreshment enough for
+Roland, for some hours at least.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We shall not keep ye late to-night, Roland; ye need
+rest, and, to-morrow, ye shall tell me a' your story."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A bell summoned the family for evening worship; two
+or three Highland men and women came in from the kitchen,
+and took their seats reverently with the family.  Annot
+opened the piano, Malcolm read a chapter in the Bible,
+with some simple comments; Annot played a beautiful
+Psalm, in which all joined heartily; and the master
+concluded the exercises by a solemn, earnest prayer, in which
+Roland was most affectionately remembered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Taking a light, he said, "Come, Roland, I will tak' ye
+to yer room;" and Malcolm led the way to a bright cheerful
+chamber, where a glowing fire blazed upon the hearth,
+for the master was a great advocate of wood fires.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A warm feather bed, plenty of blankets, with chintz
+curtains, an easy rocking-chair, and writing-table, made up a
+whole of home comforts, such as Roland had never, in all
+his life, enjoyed before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Fixing the lamp with old bachelor exactness several times
+before it suited him, Malcolm left the room, saying,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is there onything that ye want, Roland? dinna be
+afraid to ask."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nothing, sir; I am perfectly comfortable; good-night,
+sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Guid-night;" and Malcolm left him to the quiet of his
+thoughts.  Having allowed him time for his devotions, and
+preparations for repose, Malcolm entered once more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here is a bowl o' negus, my son, it will na' harm ye
+after sic a freezing as ye hae had;" and Malcolm insisted on
+his drinking down the whole.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, guid-night, Roland;" and Malcolm laid his hand
+in blessing upon the young head, as he continued,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God bless ye, and gi' ye refreshing sleep."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He lay awake some time, for Roland's emotions were of
+that delicious character which none can realize but those
+who have been thus suddenly transported from a scene of
+danger and suffering to one of perfect rest and safety.  The
+howling of the wind without, and the beating of the
+snowdrifts against the window-panes, were strongly contrasted
+with the light of the glowing fire illumining some Scripture
+pictures on the wall, the warm, soft bed, and the sweet
+atmosphere of Christian love by which he was surrounded.
+Truly, "the Lord giveth his beloved sleep!" and such a
+sleep was Roland's.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We did na' wake ye early, Roland;" said his friend,
+who came at last to see if he was stirring, "for we kenned
+that ye needed rest; how do ye fare this morning?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Perfectly well and happy," was the answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, I will leave ye now; as soon as ye are ready,
+come down to the breakfast-room."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland poured out his heart in earnest, grateful prayer,
+dressed himself, and appeared before the family quite
+another man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A smoking breakfast of good, hot coffee, venison,
+beef-steak, hot bannocks, muffins, and boiled eggs awaited him;
+and, on this occasion, he did ample justice to the tempting
+viands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We have delayed worship, this morning, on your
+account, Roland;" and immediately after breakfast, the
+same company again assembled, the same sweet music,
+Scripture reading, and fervent prayer of the night before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come, look out upon the landscape, Roland," said the
+master, as he led the young man into the family parlor, and
+turned aside the heavy curtains that he might see the
+picture without.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sun was shining in all his glory upon the
+landscape&mdash;mountains of snow were piled up everywhere, glistening
+in the sunbeams, which were reflected in prismatic colors
+in the icicles pendant from the branches of the trees.  Such
+a scene Roland had never before witnessed, and, to his
+temperament, it was full of exhilaration.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, my son, I am ready for your story;" and Malcolm
+led the way to his own private room, directing that he
+should not be disturbed that morning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a cozy little apartment, with secretary, writing-table,
+book-cases well filled, comfortable chairs, a cushioned
+lounge, and a bright wood fire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A bust of Sir Walter occupied one niche, and Burns
+another.  A picture of Abbotsford, another of Melrose
+Abbey, and one of Burns' Highland Mary, adorned the walls;
+and a flute, with piles of music, lay upon a stand in the
+corner of the room.  Horns of deer branched over the
+windows, and several figures of Scottish knights, in bronze,
+adorned the mantel-piece.  Everywhere, the house was
+furnished with the quiet comforts, and even elegancies, of
+a Scotch gentleman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lion was here, of course; for at all times, he was allowed
+free access to Malcolm's apartments, and no more faithful
+friend ever followed the fortunes of a master, than good
+old Lion.
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap23"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+<br><br>
+GRAHAM HALL.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+It was a morning fraught with deep and painful memories,
+for as Roland related the story of his mother's trials, and
+his own struggles with poverty and suffering, Malcolm's
+manly heart was stirred within him; and when he read the
+manuscript which Mrs. Bruce had left, floods of memory
+overpowered him for one moment, for it took him back so
+painfully to the days of his youth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But she is at rest noo, Roland; there ne'er was a
+purer, holier heart in the form o' woman, than that which
+beat in the bosom o' Mary Gordon.  I should hae made
+her happy, Roland, but God willed it otherwise, an' I am
+content; but how is it that she could hae suffered so much,
+with sic friends in Scotland?  Did she na write home?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She did, frequently, Uncle Malcolm; for the first year
+we received answers; then we were surrounded by mystery;
+we could not imagine how it was, but at last, my
+mother thought that death must have removed her relatives,
+and she ceased to write."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Malcolm opened a small drawer that was kept carefully
+locked, and lifting an old pocket-book, took out a lock of
+golden hair, and a piece of faded blue ribbon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is to be buried with me in my grave, Roland; it
+is a' that is left to me, on earth, o' Mary Gordon; but I
+believe that we shall meet in Heaven; for, Roland, we
+were made for each other, and shall hold communion yet;
+here is a perfect likeness o' your mother, when she was
+sweet Mary Gordon;" and Roland gazed upon the picture
+with feelings of loving reverence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a bright young face, with deep blue eyes, and a
+profusion of light curly hair; innocence marked its general
+expression, but in the eyes there was a look of high and
+holy inspiration, such as she never lost.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If ye should outlive me, Roland, that is yours; your
+name shall be placed upon the back; would that I could
+hae kenned my boy in the days o' his adversity; and now
+I hae ane request to make, and it is this; ca' me always
+Uncle Malcolm; would that I were mair to ye."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That will be very easy, dear Uncle Malcolm; for I feel
+as if I had indeed found not only a friend, but a relative;
+but it is better that I had not known you before; the very
+discipline of my life has called out qualities which prosperity
+could never have fostered."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That talisman, Roland, has been your a', it has been
+the making o' Mary Gordon's son.  'Looking aloft!'  O, what
+blessedness in those holy, strengthening words!  It shall
+be placed upon her miniature, Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Roland related the early struggles of his life in
+New York, the trials at college, the weariness of hope
+deferred, his "News-Boys' Home," Malcolm sat with head
+bowed upon his hands, and when he had finished his recital,
+he clasped Roland in his arms, and said,&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye are indeed the chiel o' Providence; be my son,
+Roland, for I love ye as my ain."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But little was said concerning his early friend, Madeline,
+but even the few passing words spoke volumes to Malcolm
+Graham.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bowing down together before the mercy-seat, Malcolm
+poured out his soul in earnest prayer for the youth kneeling
+by his side, and Roland took up the language of supplication
+and praise, and from a full heart poured out his gratitude.
+Arm in arm they left the study, and the servants
+wondered what the master had found in the lost traveller
+of the night before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have some inquiries to make about Aunt Douglass,
+for I am strongly inclined to believe that my father still
+lives; I think perhaps that she may know something of
+him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A painful expression passed over Malcolm's face, as he
+replied,&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can direct ye, Roland, but dinna gae yet; stay wi'
+me a few days; I want to tell ye aboot a' my plans, and as
+soon as the travelling will allow us, I hae mickle to show
+ye o' Highland life."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The next day brought Roland acquainted with Uncle
+Malcolm's daily habits.  A part of each morning was
+devoted to Annot's studies, a part to superintending
+general business, keeping accounts, and a portion to regular
+systematic reading.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sometimes Uncle Malcolm indulged in sporting, a part of
+the amusements of Scotch gentlemen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Friday evening came, and after supper, the master said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dugald, bring in the books an' get ready for the meeting,"
+and the old servant soon returned with additional
+seats, and a large number of hymn books.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We hae a meeting o' my tenants every Friday, Roland;
+we are vera far frae ony kirk, an' I hae to be
+minister to them, for they can only attend the quarterly
+communions."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Soon the people began to assemble; rough Highlanders,
+with their wives and elder children came flocking in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Malcolm sat at the head of a long table, and as each one
+saluted him, it was manifest with what feelings of
+affectionate reverence good Uncle Malcolm was regarded by his
+humble people.  A chapter from the Bible with some familiar
+remarks just to the point for his hearers, several beautiful
+Scotch psalms, in which all joined earnestly, and then
+a prayer from Malcolm, and another from Roland, closed
+the evening.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Several remained behind to ask advice; some about their
+business, their families, their spiritual needs, their cares
+and sorrows, their disputes and difficulties; and the kind
+words dropped by the good steward of his Master's goods,
+testified to the fidelity with which he discharged his holy
+trust.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Daily did Malcolm and Roland ride around among his
+humble dependents, and a book for one, a tract for another,
+some pecuniary help for others, marked all these visits.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You see, Roland, that I am pretty busy for an old
+bachelor; I could na' live without employment.  Then we
+hae some pleasant society here, although we live so far
+apart.  When the gentry visit us, it is to stay several days,
+sometimes weeks at a time, for the latch o' Graham Hall is
+always up."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On Sabbath afternoon, a company of little ones flocked
+to the Hall, and Malcolm, Mrs. Lindsay, and Annot were
+the teachers on these occasions.  It was quite a pleasant
+treat to Roland to aid in the good work.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the evenings, Annot entertained them with her sweet
+Scotch songs, and Roland frequently accompanied her
+with his deep, rich voice, and Uncle Malcolm with his flute.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Malcolm often wondered what he should do when Roland
+would leave him, for every day he learned to love him,
+not only for Mary Gordon's, but for his own sake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We shall hae to ask for your room to-night, Roland,"
+said Mrs. Lindsay, "for the minister is coming, and he
+always occupies that room."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It makes no difference to me, dear Madam; put me
+anywhere that suits you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Rev. Mr. Murray was a fine specimen of a Scotch
+minister, grave, earnest, faithful; he was always welcome
+among his humble mountain parishioners, and came
+quarterly to look after their welfare.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are there ony ready for the Lord's supper, Mr. Graham?"
+inquired the minister.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think there are four; they will be here next Sabbath,
+when ye can examine them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a large gathering at Graham Hall on that
+holy day, for notice had been given that the minister was
+coming.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He preached an earnest, faithful sermon, somewhat longer
+than Roland had been accustomed to, for an hour and a
+half were given up to that exercise; long prayers, and long
+psalms made the occasion tedious to one not accustomed to
+such services, but the people did net complain, although
+it brought their dinner two hours later than on other
+days.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the afternoon, the minister examined several candidates
+for the Lord's Supper, which was to be administered
+on the following Sabbath, and paid a just tribute to the
+fidelity with which they had been instructed by the
+minister's earnest helper.  Mr. Murray stayed all night, and
+gave some wise spiritual advice to Roland before he took
+his departure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He seems to be a chiel o' God," said Mr. Murray, "and
+can come to the sacrament, if he wishes, next Sabbath; it
+must be pleasant to hae sic a guest."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He is a descendant o' the Gordons, Mr. Murray, and a
+chiel o' earnest prayer."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They were aye a godly race, Mr. Graham, an' mony an
+ancient martyr bears their name."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the following Sabbath, Malcolm, Roland, Mrs. Lindsay,
+and Annot started at early down in one carriage, and
+all the servants in a large, comfortable wagon; the house
+was closed for the day, for in Scotland these sacrament
+days occupy the whole Sabbath.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Arrived at the place of concourse, large numbers were
+seen coming in all directions; carriages, wagons, people on
+horseback and on foot, hurried to the service, for as it
+occurred so seldom, it was a great occasion to devout
+Scotch people.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owing to the numbers, the services were out of doors;
+a table was spread under large shady trees, and
+temporary seats provided for the occasion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A long sermon was preached, but full of power; long
+prayers, but full of unction; deep, sonorous, stirring psalms
+were sung by the great multitude, and Roland thought of
+the songs of the redeemed in the Revelations, where the
+hallelujahs were compared to the voice of many waters.
+The effect was sublime under these old trees; young men
+and old, mothers, maidens, and little children all joining
+in the solemn chorus, with the heavens for their canopy,
+and the green sward for their carpeted aisles.
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "'Neath cloistered boughs each floral bell that swingeth,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And tolls its perfume on the passing air,<br>
+  Makes Sabbath in the fields, and ever ringeth,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A call to prayer!<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "Not to the domes where crumbling arch and column,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Attest the feebleness of mortal hand;<br>
+  But to that fane, most catholic and solemn,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Which God hath planned!<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "To that cathedral, boundless as our wonder,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Whose quenchless lamps the sun and moon supply,<br>
+  Its choir, the winds and waves, its organ thunder,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Its dome, the sky!"<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>
+But here was the voice of God's ambassador, and the
+presence of the Holy Ghost, and Roland listened and
+worshipped with solemn awe in nature's grand cathedral.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the intervals between the services, the people
+assembled in serious groups under the trees to eat their
+meals, for all who lived at a distance had come with the
+intention to spend the Sabbath.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No lightness was manifest among the crowds, for Scotch
+people are proverbial for their reverence for the Sabbath.
+The minister mingled occasionally with his people; but
+none, not even the little children, seemed to forget that it
+was the holy Sabbath.  At the close of the solemn day,
+Malcolm and his family returned to their mountain home,
+doubtless benefitted by the exercises of this holy service.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We have had a pleasant day, Uncle Malcolm," said
+Roland, "but would it not be better if the services were
+not quite so long?  I observed many old people nodding
+in the afternoon."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It would be doubtless better, but the customs of the
+old Scotch church are very hard to remodel.  The good
+Dr. Chalmers has done much in the way of reform, but it
+has not reached us yet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What a noble witness for the truth is that good man!
+There is but one such man in our age, Uncle Malcolm; at
+least but one given to an especial branch of the Christian
+church."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Roland, the Church of England has her Bickersteth;
+the Baptist, her Robert Hall; the Methodist, her
+Wesley; and a' seeking one great end, the glory of the
+Saviour, and the spread of his kingdom.  What a blessed
+day that will be, when these sects shall pass away, and we
+shall be truly one in Christ, once more the simple primitive
+Christians of Antioch!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And thus they fulfilled the blessed command of their
+Master, talking of the things of his kingdom, until like the
+disciples on their way to Emmaus their hearts burned
+within them with emotions of holy love.  Where the
+fountain is full, the streams will gush forth naturally, freely,
+healthfully.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is a fine day, Uncle Malcolm," said Roland, on the
+following Monday; "can we go to-day to visit the glen
+where my martyred ancestors lie?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was thinking o' it mysel', Roland; the weather could
+na' be better, hard roads, and clear sharp air&mdash;it is a long
+ride frae' here, and we will set out early&mdash;hae the carriage
+ready, Dugald, and a basket o' provision; we will gae in
+aboot an hour."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a splendid ride over these mountain roads, winding
+around in their ascent to heights whence there were
+vistas charming in their grandeur even at this season; then
+descending into rural glens where the cottages of the
+peasantry ever and anon met their view.  "There is Castle
+Kennicott, Roland;" and Malcolm pointed to a miserable
+range of buildings, so dilapidated that his companion smiled
+at the name.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There lives old Sir Peter Kennicott; he is a specimen
+o' an auld Scottish laird, vera poor, and vera proud; his
+wife, Lady Catherine, and three daughters, make up his
+household; they visit us two or three times a year, and
+living as they do in the seclusion o' their Highland home,
+ken but little o' the ways o' the rest o' the warld; they are
+vera amusing wi' their quaint auld-fashioned manners; but
+Lady Catherine is a guid woman, and much esteemed."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Beguiling the way with pleasant chat, in a few hours
+they reached the spot they sought for.  Dismounting, they
+stood around the lowly grave&mdash;the same ruined chimney,
+the same grand old trees, the same dark and sombre glen,
+where no human habitation was visible, recalled the picture
+so deeply engraved upon the memory of Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We stood just here, Uncle Malcolm," (and Roland
+almost whispered, for he felt in the midst of solemn
+associations,) "when my mother told me the story of old David
+Gordon and the sweet Lilian, and I think from that day
+my childish soul took a great leap in its existence, and I
+never could forget the thoughts which stirred within me,
+as I remembered that my ancestors were among the holy
+band of Christian martyrs."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is a great honor, Roland, to be descended frae those
+who will hereafter be kings and priests unto God."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What a cruel being man must be that can slay such
+innocence as slumbers here!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And yet it is frae oot sic dreadful scenes o' bluidshed
+that great principles to bless our race arise; the struggles
+between right and wrong are often ushered in by the gibbet,
+the stake, or the battle-axe."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O, what a happy time that will be, Uncle Malcolm,
+when the nations shall learn war no more! when man shall
+love his brother man."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is coming, Roland; sure as God's word is true, sic a
+day will dawn upon the earth."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Hours were spent around the humble grave, for both felt
+the inspiration of the scene.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hae something mair to show ye, Roland; here is ane
+o' the caves where our fathers used to hide in those dismal
+days; and mony a time in the midst o' baptismal or sacrament
+seasons in these lonely glens, at the sound o' the
+tramp o' Claverhouse and his troopers, would they hae to
+fly to these damp and gloomy shelters."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How solemn must have been the worship of these
+days, Uncle Malcolm; ever on the borders of eternity, they
+must always have sounded like funereal hymns in these
+solitudes!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And yet how much we hae read o' their heroic spirit,
+their brave endurance, and their triumph over death!  I
+can imagine strains o' victory always mingling wi' a
+martyr's hymn."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When they arrived at home, letters from Edmund awaited
+Roland; he seemed to be growing tired of travelling
+alone.  Uncle Malcolm, with his accustomed hospitality,
+immediately wrote a few lines of cordial invitation to
+Graham Hall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Wha' hae we here?" asked Mrs. Lindsay.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland looked out, and, lumbering up the road, came a
+large old-fashioned carriage, with two fat, lazy horses.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is Sir Peter," continued the lady; and soon the party
+stopped at the door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How fares it wi' ye a'?" said the old man, as he stepped
+slowly from the carriage, and warmly shook the master's
+hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lady Catherine followed, and then the three daughters,
+with their pets&mdash;Miss Juliana, with her cat; Miss Winnie,
+with a fat lap-dog; and Miss Jacky, with a large parrot,
+brought to her from abroad by a sailor cousin.  Sundry
+bandboxes, and a trunk, indicated that they meant to stay
+for some days at least.  The three ladies had all passed
+the hey-day of youth, for the youngest was thirty at least.
+Miss Juliana, the eldest, having passed two seasons at
+Edinburgh, was the only one who pretended to the manners
+of a lady; she still preserved carefully the wardrobe
+of those youthful days for extra occasions, such as a
+visit to Graham Hall.  On this day, a worn-out travelling
+dress, made in the fashion of twenty years ago, looked
+rather antiquated; but the narrow purse of Kennicott
+Castle made a virtue of necessity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sir Peter, clad in the costume of ancient times, with his
+bob-wig and powdered hair, his small clothes, and silver
+knee and shoe-buckles, his three-cornered hat, and
+silver-headed cane, with a coat whose pockets were large enough
+to hold a change of clothing, presented a most grotesque
+appearance, and really might have been mistaken for a
+person rigged out for a dramatic scene.  Lady Catherine
+was equally antique.  After the ceremony of introduction,
+they were escorted to their rooms; and nothing more was
+seen of them until dinner-time, when their appearance at
+the table indicated the employment of the morning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Miss Juliana was arrayed in a youthful dress of light
+blue silk; and, as the eldest, wore the old family jewels,
+which certainly were not of the most costly kind.  Her
+hair was dressed in the most youthful style; but artificial
+rose-buds could not conceal the gray locks, or hide the
+shrivelled cheeks.  She carried a fan, with which she
+performed certain singular manœuvres, which she considered
+the very tip of the haut-ton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Miss Juliana was the oracle of the family; for had she
+not been in Edinburgh for two seasons? and ought she not
+to know the fashions of high life?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Miss Winnie was fat and coarse, with high cheek bones,
+large hands and feet, freckled skin, and red hair; she
+certainly did not pretend to be the beauty of the family.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Miss Jacky, the "Baby," as they still called her, was
+considered the "beauty."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A small figure, with a profusion of light flaxy hair,
+tortured into curling, light complexion, with high color,
+unmeaning china-blue eyes, and pursed-up little mouth,
+distinguished her from her sisters.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were all bent upon Baby's making a great match;
+therefore, all the finery of the past generation, that
+remained in the old family chest, was kept especially for her.
+A heavy crimson brocade for winter, that stood alone, was
+made up with low neck and short sleeves; and in summer,
+one light pink taffeta was likewise remodelled.  One wreath
+of roses for her hair, one string of pearls for the neck, with
+ear-rings to match, one pair of soiled kid gloves for the
+hands, and one pair of narrow pointed slippers, made up
+Baby's wardrobe, and this she had worn on her visits to
+Graham Hall, and Douglass Manor, ever since she was
+eighteen; and now, alas! Baby was thirty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She had sung the same songs, danced the same Scotch
+reels, said the same pretty silly things; charming only to
+her family, and yet Baby was not married.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sir Peter had long thought that a seat at the head of the
+table at Graham Hall, would be the very thing for Baby,
+but unfortunately, the master did not concur in sentiment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Annot, my dear, come sit by me," said the sweet young
+lady, for she knew that Malcolm dearly loved his little
+niece.  Baby was devoted in her attentions to the child,
+but it all seemed lost upon Malcolm, who was busily engaged
+in talking to Sir Peter about the cattle and the sheep
+during the late snow storm.  "I lost ten o' my best sheep,
+Mr. Graham," remarked the old man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I did na lose ane, Sir Peter," was the answer, and
+Malcolm dropped many hints which might have been
+useful, if the old man had not been too indolent to profit
+by them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The politeness of the household was much taxed by their
+efforts to entertain their guests; for there were just four
+subjects of conversation for the four ladies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lady Catherine discussed household economy; Miss
+Juliana, her visit to Edinburgh, twenty years ago, an
+unfailing subject; Miss Winnie, her pet lap-dog, with all his
+wonderful tricks; and Baby, "The Children of the Abbey,"
+and the "Sorrows of Werter."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was in vain that Mrs. Lindsay tried to divert the
+channel of conversation to better things; back to the old
+worn-out sayings and doings of their little world they would
+come.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All the ladies employed themselves in knitting while
+they talked.  Lady Catherine knit stockings for the
+winter; Miss Juliana mitts innumerable; Miss Winnie,
+tippets of all sizes; and Baby tidies and mats for parlor and
+chamber.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Knit! knit! knit! talk! talk! talk!  Truly a visit from
+Kennicott Castle was a trial to Christian patience!  And
+then, the darling pets!  Miss Juliana's pet cat fought with
+the master's noble dog; Miss Winnie's lap-dog tried to tear
+out the eyes of Annot's little kitten; and Baby's parrot
+screamed night and day, "Polly wants Baby!  Polly wants
+Baby!"  Then Miss Juliana's cat must have sweet milk
+three times a day, and the most delicate pieces of meat cut
+up very fine; Miss Winnie's lap-dog must be fed upon
+cream; and Baby's parrot could open her cage-door, and
+help herself to whatever she liked upon the table.  This
+was great fun to Baby, but disgusting to others, who could
+not bear a dirty parrot walking over the dinner-plates.
+Miss Juliana played two old marches, Miss Winnie two
+old pieces, and Baby three songs exactly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They all attended punctually upon the family devotions,
+and then Malcolm could pray that all who knelt around
+that altar should set their affections upon things above,
+and not on the vain and fleeting things of earth; their
+frivolity pained him, and the good master tried many ways
+to do them good.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He talked to the ladies about schools for the poor
+children, and about comforts for their parents.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dear me!" said Miss Juliana, "Mr. Graham you would
+na' expect us to stoop to these wild Highlanders;
+why! they are na' mair than savages!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And sae they will continue, my dear Madam,"
+("Madam!"  Miss Juliana did not like that,) "if you will
+na' step forward to their help; and in sic a lonesome place,
+I should think it would be pleasant wark."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, Mr. Graham, it would take twa hunters ilka
+morn to catch the wild things; on the tops o' the highest
+hills, down in the deepest glens, hidden amang the steep
+rocks, we might as well try to tame the wild animals as
+these rough, outlandish children o' the crags."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Try, Miss Juliana, gi' them something for the body,
+and, after awhile, they will come to ye for something for
+the mind."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Miss Juliana yawned, "It is sae mickle work, Mr. Graham,
+for a high-born lady; I could na' think of sic a
+thing."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For two weeks the visitors remained; but no visible
+progress was made by Baby, and the party turned their faces
+homeward.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye will return our visit soon, Mr. Graham; bring yer
+young friend wi' ye; we canna promise mickle at Kennicott,
+but we will mak' ye welcome."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank ye, Sir Peter, when we hae leisure, we will
+accept your kind invitation."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The old carriage was brought up, Sir Peter and Lady
+Catherine comfortably seated, followed by Miss Juliana
+and her cat, Tabby; Miss Winnie and her dog, Charley;
+and Baby with her talking Poll, screaming, as she went,
+"Poll wants Baby;" with sundry band-boxes and trunks,
+filled with the old finery, to be packed away for future
+occasions; while the ladies would now assume their tartan
+plaid and woollen hose, until making another visitation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Lindsay gave one long, expressive breath; good
+Uncle Malcolm smiled with a look of relief, and little
+Annot clapped her hands as she hugged up her pet kitten,
+and said, "Now, tittens! that horrid dog is gone, and ye
+shall hae some peace o' your life."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a few days, Edmund arrived, and received a hearty
+welcome from the master of Graham Hall.  Soon domesticated,
+he revelled in the comforts of the hospitable mansion;
+and day after day, seated by the blazing fire of the
+family-room, he would rub his hands with delight, exclaiming,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is living, Roland!  How shall I ever content myself
+in that Babel of a city after these grand mountains,
+these noble trees, this free life out-of-doors, and this
+glowing, warm-hearted hospitality within!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is a charming home, indeed!" was Roland's reply,
+"the very perfection of that sweet word; though so cold
+without, one feels all the time here in the midst of a warm
+glow of Christian love, and hearty welcome."'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What a charming piece of simplicity is that dear little
+Annot, Roland!  So fresh! so naive!  After the glitter of
+New York belles, she is really captivating; and then her
+music&mdash;why, she warbles sweetly as a mavis."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland smiled as he replied, "Where is Miss Hamilton,
+Edmund?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O, she is out of my reach! a bright divinity that I may
+worship in the distance!  But this little Scotch mountain
+girl! innocent child that she is, charms me daily more and
+more, with her winning ways, and her sweet, loving
+eyes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Take care, Edmund, how you allow yourself to become
+enchanted; for you may never see Scotland again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is not so certain, my dear sir, for I have had a
+taste of Highland life that I shall never forget; and this
+sweet face I must see again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland found that he must seek out his aunt; therefore,
+in a day or two, Uncle Malcolm and he sat out for Douglass
+Manor, leaving Edmund behind to seek his own pleasures.
+It was a long two-storied stone mansion, that had
+long been in the family, and therefore dignified by the
+name of "The Manor."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Graham inquired for the mistress; asked into the
+parlor, they awaited her arrival.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a few minutes, a tall lady, with pleasing aspect, and
+dignified address, entered the parlor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye are welcome, Mr. Graham; it is a long time syne I
+hae had this honor."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I cam' to introduce a family connexion, Mrs. Douglass."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The lady looked earnestly at Roland, a change passed
+over her countenance, as she advanced towards the young
+man, and taking his hand, she said,&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I dinna ken what to think, but surely ye are vera like
+my brother Stephen, lost so lang ago."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Malcolm had left the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am Roland Bruce, your brother's son, Aunt Douglass;
+you are the first relative that I have met in Scotland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She grasped his hand, and drawing him to her, kissed
+him affectionately.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My dear nephew!  This is joyful indeed!  Nane o'
+my kindred hae I left on earth, but yoursel'!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland then related his story to his aunt; she was deeply
+moved; as soon as he mentioned the name of Elsie Gibson,
+she exclaimed,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is it possible that Elsie is in America?  We missed
+her years ago, but nane could tell whate'er became o'
+her."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What relation does she bear to us?" inquired Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Roland, she luved your father dearly, an' had he
+married her, he wud hae been a happier mon; but he was
+aye like one crazed on the subject o' Mary Gordon."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My mother made him a good wife, Aunt Douglass; she
+was most faithful and devoted."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Roland, I ken a' that to be true; but her heart
+was na wi' her husband."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It was with no one else, Aunt Douglass; I wish that
+you could have known my dear mother."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the end of their interview, Mrs. Douglass was
+convinced that her brother was yet alive.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will gae wi' ye, Roland, when ye return to America;
+I maun find my brother, for our property is yet unsettled,
+although my father has been dead these four years; ye
+maun stay wi' me, Roland, it is sic a pleasure to see a
+branch o' my ain hoose," and Aunt Douglass affectionately
+laid her hand upon the young man's shoulder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Looking aloft!" thought Roland, "how many of my
+prayers and hopes have been fulfilled!  I will never
+distrust a gracious God, so true to all his promises."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Malcolm left Roland with the promise to come once more
+to Graham Hall ere he left the country.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Douglass busied herself in preparing all the
+documents necessary ere she left Scotland, and after having
+shown her nephew all that was interesting around the
+Manor, she started, with her nephew for Malcolm's home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Would it not be better, Uncle Malcolm, to settle my
+mother's estate before I leave Scotland?  I should like to
+dispose of it, for my future home will be in America."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will attend to all that, Roland; I have taken charge
+o' a' ever syne the death o' your kindred; indeed, it is sold
+already."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Uncle Malcolm did not then tell Roland that he was
+himself the purchaser, and had given a higher price than any
+stranger would have done.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a short time, all was arranged; Roland received a handsome
+price, and old Jennie Scott was sorely distressed at the
+thought of a stranger in the old manse.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dinna trouble yourself, Jennie," was Malcolm's word
+of comfort; "it will be the manse still, a guid minister
+shall abide there, and Jennie shall be the woman o' a' wark
+there yet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She kissed Malcolm's hand,&mdash;"Ye're a guid an' faithfu'
+mon, Mr. Graham, an' God will bless ye evermair."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The time of parting had arrived&mdash;Roland was grieved to
+leave the dear shelter of Graham Hall, for it was indeed to
+him a home, and its master a kind and generous father.
+Mrs. Lindsay, too, had been like a dear mother, and little
+Annot clung around him, and cried at parting with "dear
+Cousin Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edmund could not leave the dear home-circle of
+Graham Hall without deep regret; and as he bade a
+sorrowful farewell to artless Annot Lindsay, and held her
+little hand fondly within his own, he whispered,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall come again, Annot, and then we shall have the
+pleasant walks and rides once more."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She dropped her sweet eyes on the ground, then raising
+them to Edmund's face, swimming in tears, she replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall miss ye, Mr. Norris, so vera, vera much; but
+ye'll come again, an' I'll learn so mony new songs just for
+ye, an' nane ither."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Annot stood at the window looking at the carriage as it
+turned away; and ere it vanished out of sight, a familiar
+face smiled at her from the back of the carriage, and a
+hand waved a last farewell, that she knew was Edmund's.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Soon in London, Malcolm took lodgings for himself,
+Mrs. Douglass, and his young friends; and many pleasant
+visits did they pay together among the homes of the
+destitute; and many useful hints were given by the wise and
+faithful friend to Roland and Edmund.  Riding out one
+day, Mr. Graham perceived a carriage passing close by
+their side.  It contained two ladies, one remarkable for
+her beauty.  She looked startled, blushed, smiled, waved her
+hand, and was gone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was deeply agitated,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Who was that, Roland?" inquired his friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That was Madeline Hamilton, Uncle Malcolm," and
+Roland dropped his eyes beneath the earnest look of his
+friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye never told me that she was in London, Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, Uncle Malcolm, I did not."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And why, my son, may I ask?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am not on terms of intimacy with Miss Hamilton now."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How is that, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She does not belong to my world, Uncle Malcolm; so
+her relatives think."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Uncle Malcolm bit his lip, as he replied slowly,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Does Madeline think sae, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think not; she is simple-hearted, truthful as a child,
+above all that is sordid, or worldly; but they may spoil her
+here in London."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Malcolm read at once the whole of Roland's secret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye could keep up intercourse wi' Miss Hamilton if ye
+please, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think I could, Uncle Malcolm; but I would not tempt
+her from the path of duty."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Malcolm Graham smiled, a bright and happy smile;
+for in the future, he saw a path so high! so blessed for his
+dear young protégé.  "Looking aloft!" in the right sense
+thought Malcolm, "and God will take care o' his interests,
+for time and eternity."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Roland, my boy, trust in God; for he will make a'
+things work together for your good.  Seek first the kingdom
+o' God and his righteousness, and a' these things shall
+be added unto ye; all <i>these</i> things, Roland&mdash;whatever is for
+your real good."
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap24"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+<br><br>
+WINGS CLIPPED THAT HAD COMMENCED TO SOAR.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+Madeline is in a new atmosphere; silken fetters bind
+her feet, and amid the novelty of scenes so different from
+those at home, gradually the world acquires an ascendancy
+over her young heart, which almost ceases to converse with
+itself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her journal has long been laid aside; but one very rainy
+day she opens its pages, and contrasts her present state
+with the past.  Madeline is humbled; taking up her pen,
+she resumes a record of past events and emotions.  She
+made her entries for only a few weeks after her arrival.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"London, May 10th.&mdash;What a new world surrounds me!
+Ah, so novel, so different from New York!  I am in a
+constant whirl of excitement, with scarcely time for thought.
+We have brought letters of introduction from Mr. Leighton
+and Mr. Trevor to the American minister, which bring us
+at once within the pale of London life among the haut-ton.
+Aunt Matilda is delighted; quite in her element; papa
+pleased because we are, but he looks very pale and languid.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yesterday was the great day; I was presented to the
+Queen by the American minister.  I wanted to see Queen
+Victoria, because she is a rare example of a good wife and
+mother in a royal circle.  It was a magnificent scene;
+such a crowd of well-developed, rosy young ladies; such
+splendid dressing, high-breeding, and courtly grace, I have
+never before seen!  I understand now something about
+the rich glow of English beauty; but the Queen interested
+me most.  She is not handsome, but there was a benevolent
+glow upon her face when she addressed me personally,
+and said some kind things about my country.  I could have
+kissed her hand, but I suppose that would not have been
+courtly etiquette, and so I had to content myself with
+performing the difficult ceremony of bowing out backwards; I
+did not fall, and that is all I can say about the manner.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am busy in returning calls, visiting dress-makers,
+&amp;c., for we are invited to a ball at the Duke of D&mdash;&mdash;'s.
+I wonder if I ought to go, and leave papa; Aunt Matilda
+insists, and papa wishes it; it will take place next week.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well!  I have been to the grand ball; a great crowd,
+magnificent rooms, superb dressing, a train of admirers,
+scarcely room to dance, but unable to accept all the
+invitations; introduced to the Earl of N&mdash;&mdash;, a refined and
+courtly English nobleman; his wife, the Countess, is
+peculiarly pleasing; and his daughter, the Lady Alice,
+charming; a sweet, artless English girl, just making her first
+appearance in gay life.  I don't believe that she relishes it
+much.  Lord N&mdash;&mdash;, the son, is the most pleasing gentleman
+that I have yet met in London; modest, unassuming,
+gentlemanly, and intelligent, and sufficiently good-looking
+to captivate the majority of young ladies.  His attentions
+are acceptable, because they are so perfectly respectful, so
+unobtrusive.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This family pleases me more than any I have seen;
+they must be among the best specimens of English nobility.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunt Matilda is so intoxicated, by moving among
+nobles, that I cannot help laughing; and I fear that she
+will make the impression that she is really not accustomed
+to good society; there is so much fuss and folly about her
+movements.  I ought not to write this of Aunt Matilda, for
+she is so good and kind to me; only too anxious about the
+number of conquests, and I shrewdly suspect that she is
+meditating one herself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dined yesterday at the Earl of N&mdash;&mdash;'s, in company
+with papa and Aunt Matilda; quite a family dinner, as
+dear papa avoids much company.  I think it is a Christian
+family, for the good earl asked a blessing at the table so
+reverently.  It is the perfection of a refined household; all
+so easy, so quiet, and in such exquisite taste; and the
+conversation was so improving; no frivolity, but a high-toned
+intelligence, that made it really a privilege to be one of the
+party.  I find that they do not mingle much with the gay
+world, but as pilgrims and strangers, they are 'in the
+world, but not of the world.'  I am thankful that we have
+made such an acquaintance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"After dinner, Lady Alice led the way to the drawing-room,
+and, in company with her brother, entertained us
+with some delightful music, and showed us some very fine
+engravings of English scenery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have been to an English opera; the music was fine,
+the company brilliant, and the scene altogether fascinating.
+In the course of the evening the Queen of England
+entered; when the whole audience arose, and the orchestra
+played with great spirit 'God save the Queen.'  Her
+Majesty acknowledged the compliment by a gracious bow,
+and a warm, benevolent smile; no wonder that her
+subjects love her so truly.  These late hours are killing to
+devotion; I come home so tired, that my prayers are
+lifeless and formal.  I wonder if papa is lonely when I am
+away; he says not, for he is very fond of reading.  I think
+that he reads the Bible habitually now.  When I ask him
+anything about himself he smiles, and says that 'he will
+be better soon.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lady Alice is very kind; their carriage is always at
+our disposal; she has taken us to Westminster Abbey,
+St. Paul's, the Parks, the Zoological Gardens, the British
+Museum, and the Picture Galleries; I could spend days at the
+latter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My good aunt has taken great pains to let it be known
+that we are really related to the Duke of Hamilton;
+poh! poh! that is so foolish!  We are truly altogether American,
+and what care we for noble birth!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Last Sunday, in company with Lady Alice, I visited
+one of the Ragged Schools in M&mdash;&mdash; Lane.  I had no
+conception before of the place.  A very large room, crowded
+with children; some clad in rags and filth, others were
+civilized; but there was a look of sensuality among them
+that was so revolting.  It was a pleasant sight to see so
+many of the higher classes, filled with the spirit of the
+loving Master, seeking these degraded children.  I was
+surprised to see the Lady Alice take her seat so humbly
+among a company of such rough, half-clad girls; and pleased
+to see the look of grateful respect that rested upon the face
+of more than one, as they listened to the instructions of
+their gentle teacher.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Do you teach here weekly, Lady Alice?' I asked as
+soon as she had done.  'That is my privilege, Miss
+Hamilton, when I am in London,' was the modest reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Could you not find a position among some not quite
+so degraded?'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Yes; but then so few comparatively are willing to
+come here; and then you know, Miss Hamilton, that our
+Master did not scorn the lowest sinner.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was silent, for Lady Alice had set me to thinking.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Suddenly, I was surprised by the sight of a familiar
+form; at first, only the back; but I could not be
+mistaken&mdash;he turned, and it was indeed Roland Bruce!  How did
+he ever come here?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He advanced, and extended his warm, strong hand;
+the touch was magnetic&mdash;how it revived the dear old days
+around Woodcliff!  How strong it seemed!  Just like
+the staff of my childhood; not only the staff, but the
+sceptre to which I willingly bowed.  He inquired how I
+came here, and I told him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Did I not promise you that I would visit such places?'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He looked so pleased, and then told me why he was
+in England, and that he expected, ere he returned, to visit
+Scotland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The earl's family attend the church under the ministry
+of the Rev. Mr. B&mdash;&mdash;, not for its grandeur, but purely for
+the simple evangelical preaching of its earnest pastor; but
+my aunt goes with the Duke of D&mdash;&mdash; to a more fashionable
+church, where the elite attend, but where there is little
+but the form of piety.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is a great privilege to attend upon such a ministry
+as Mr. B&mdash;&mdash;'s, for it draws my thoughts away from earth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The earl's family are all members of the Church of
+England.  Last Sunday, all four partook of the communion.  I
+felt so lonely, so conscience-stricken when they all arose
+and left me in the pew.  After church, Lord N&mdash;&mdash; said to
+me with such real concern upon his fine face&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'I am sorry, Miss Hamilton, to find that you are not
+a follower of the Redeemer; why is it so?'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I could not answer for one minute, but at last replied&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'I ought to be, I know; but I am so unworthy, so
+worldly!'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'So am I unworthy, Miss Hamilton; but Jesus is all
+my righteousness.  I cannot bear to see you, one so'&mdash;and
+he stopped; 'I cannot bear to see you any thing but a
+Christian.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Thank you, Lord N&mdash;&mdash;; how is it that, surrounded
+by so much to draw the heart from God, your family are
+all so different from the rest of the world?'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'In the world, but not of the world, Miss Hamilton,
+is my answer; and all the difference consists in this&mdash;that
+by the grace of God only, we are what you see.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What a lovely specimen of piety in high life is here!
+'Tis true, that not many of the great ones of the earth are
+called to be children of the kingdom; but there are some.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lord N&mdash;&mdash;'s remark has led me back to the days of
+former seriousness.  Am I grieving the Spirit of God by
+my worldliness?  'Ye cannot serve God and mammon' is
+the Saviour's teaching; may I feel its power.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The earl's family are going down to Parkhurst Manor,
+their country-seat, and have invited us to accompany them.
+Aunt Matilda would rather stay amid the dissipation of
+London life; but I am weary of it, and so glad to go into
+the country; and then it will be better for papa, dear
+papa!  I wonder if he is any better.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Parkhurst Manor.&mdash;What a charming home!  The
+entrance to the mansion is through a splendid park of trees
+of ancient growth, and the grounds most beautifully kept;
+the smooth green grass, the branching elms meeting over
+the avenue which leads to the house, forming such a cool,
+green arbor; the sporting deer meeting us everywhere,
+some looking at us with a startled look in their soft, brown
+eyes, and others so docile that they walked close by the
+side of the carriage; but the smile of the honest gatekeeper
+at the Lodge was the best welcome, as he opened the gate,
+taking off his hat, and saying&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'You are welcome back to the manor, my Lord.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Thank you, James; I hope you are all well at the
+Lodge.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In another minute, two rosy little girls ran across the
+road, and, dropping a courtesy before the carriage, said&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Welcome back, my Lady, we are so glad to see you;
+is Lady Alice there?'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The young lady smiled upon the little things, and
+replied&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Come up to the Hall to-morrow, I have something for
+you, my little girls,' and the carriage drove on.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The house is a large and elegant mansion; I scarcely
+know of what style of architecture, but much of it is ancient;
+the wings are of more modern style, the windows all opening
+out on to the lawn.  From the second story, verandahs
+surround the mansion, filled with most rare and exquisite
+flowers.  The grounds are laid out with the utmost taste
+in winding paths; at the back of the house is a calm lake,
+on which float a number of graceful swans; pavilions,
+rustic seats, and rural bridges over several small streams
+which flow through the grounds, and shrubbery of the
+choicest kind adorn the walks; in fine, nothing is wanting
+to make this another Eden of delight.  I revelled in the
+sights and sounds around me with inexpressible pleasure;
+but the sweetest sight of all was the meeting between the
+parents and their dear children, who came running to greet
+them; two sons, the one nineteen, the other seventeen,
+with two younger girls, so artless! so simple hearted!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Dear papa! dear mamma! you have come at last!
+Now, it is dear old Parkhurst!  You have come to stay,
+have you not, mamma?' and the little Ladies Julia and
+Mary seized their dear mother's hands, as if afraid that she
+would run away again.  Sweet, precious picture of domestic
+bliss!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The children were not in the habit of sitting at the
+table; but this was a holiday, and all assembled that
+evening around the family board, as a great treat, in company
+with their tutor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But, although brimful of joy, the little girls knew how
+to be quiet, and contented themselves with looking at their
+beloved parents and dear brother and sister; and the young
+men joined very modestly, but seldom, in the general
+conversation.  I sat near the little girls, and once I heard
+them whisper to each other about the books which mamma
+had promised, and the dolls from Lady Alice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The countess glanced kindly, but reprovingly, at the
+children, as she said&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'My little girls are forgetting mamma's rules at the
+table; there must be no whispering.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Excuse us, dear mamma,' replied the Lady Julia, 'we
+were wondering about the books and dolls.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"After supper, a bell summoned us to evening worship
+in the chapel, whither the countess led the way, and the
+tutor, who is a young clergyman, conducted the devotions,
+while Lady Alice presided at the organ.  Thanks for the
+return of the parents were included in the service, and, at
+the close, the dear children were dismissed with a loving
+kiss from both parents.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Happy household! trained thus from infancy for Heaven,
+what a calm and holy atmosphere prevails everywhere
+at Parkhurst!  The echoes of sweet Sabbath chimes ever
+softly ringing, and sanctifying the simpler acts of its daily
+life.  I am so glad to be here; such a contrast to many of
+the gay and worldly families of London, where all seem
+bent upon ignoring entirely their immortality.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The next morning after our arrival, the family carriage
+and three fine horses were drawn up before the door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'We want to show you some of the beauties around
+Parkhurst,' said the earl, 'and concluded that the young
+people would prefer the saddle.  I presume that you ride,
+Miss Hamilton; we English people are famous riders.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lord N&mdash;&mdash;, Lady Alice, and I mounted; papa and
+Aunt Matilda occupied the landau with the earl and
+countess.  We had a most delightful excursion among the green
+lanes of 'old England,' breathing the cool morning air.  It
+is, indeed, a garden of sweets; the high cultivation everywhere,
+the country residences, the rural cottages, all with
+their flowers and trees, and the reverence with which the
+family of the earl was everywhere greeted, made this ride
+highly gratifying.  I find a most regular, systematic household,
+the heads of the family each having especial hours of
+retirement; the children their periods of study, recreation,
+and out-door exercise.  After morning worship, the family
+scattered to their several avocations.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'You are at home, Miss Hamilton,' said Lady Alice,
+leading the way to the library; 'I read two hours daily,
+a course laid down by my former tutor, and I presume that
+you would like to do the same.  Mamma visits the school-room
+daily, and makes inquiries of the tutor about the
+children, but she does not interfere; she has one in whom
+she places perfect confidence, and she aids, not thwarts, his
+plans for their improvement; the exercises of the school-room
+are no more disturbed than if they were all away at
+school.  Mamma is too sensible for that.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We chose our books, took our seats at separate tables,
+and enjoyed two delightfully private hours&mdash;'tis true that
+Lord N&mdash;&mdash; knocked at the door, and just peeped in once.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'No admission, brother,' said the Lady Alice, with an
+arch smile; 'we are very busy now; you know that we
+all read at this hour; go get your books, like a good boy,'
+and springing from her seat, she opened the door wide,
+threw her arms around her brother's neck, and kissed him,
+saying, 'now go, Alfred.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'This is the way she rules me, Miss Hamilton; I dare
+not disobey my precise little sister; so adieu, ladies!'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Two hours at the piano closed the studies of the Lady
+Alice.  I observed a harp in the drawing-room, and while
+she was occupied in the music-room, I took advantage of
+the time, to refresh my almost forgotten pieces.  I had
+brought some new music with me, and was glad to find
+that I had so much leisure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'I suppose that I may venture to intrude,' said Lord
+N&mdash;&mdash;, at the close of my practice; and another hour was
+spent in entertaining my young host, who is a passionate
+lover of music, and who accompanied me with the flute.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Out on the verandah, Lady Alice observed, 'There come
+my little girls from the Lodge,' and running to her room,
+she brought out several books, and a new dress for each.
+Little Mary and Bessie Bond were modest children, and as
+they dropped a courtesy to their young lady, she handed
+them the gifts which she had brought.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Thank you, Lady Alice, you are very good,' said the
+elder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dinner at five, where a select number of friends joined
+our party.  The breakfast costume is simple lawn or
+muslin wrappers, with a pretty cap for the countess; but
+the dress for dinner was more elegant&mdash;rich silk dresses,
+with low neck and short sleeves, hair handsomely arranged,
+with rich head-dresses for the elder ladies, simpler for the
+young, and a moderate addition of fine jewelry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There was much more ceremony at this meal, though
+nothing was oppressive; it was felt to be the etiquette of
+high-bred English life.  The conversation was general,
+improving, entertaining; personalities were strictly avoided,
+and it was evident that the earl had gathered around him
+a party of pleasing, intelligent, refined English people;
+even two or three frivolous young ladies were held in check
+by the general tone of sentiment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We walked in the Park after dinner, and the game-keeper
+amused us highly by a summons to his feathered charge.
+Making a certain call, in a moment crowds of rooks were
+seen emerging from their own domicile, which was quite a
+large building for birds only.  They clustered around him,
+on his head, his shoulders, his hands, and wherever they
+could obtain a footing, while crowds congregated around
+his feet, making their own peculiarly coarse, unpleasant
+cawing; indeed, there seemed to be quite a familiar intimacy
+between him and his dark-feathered favorites.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At another call, the deer came bounding towards him;
+it was such a pretty picture of the power of kindness over
+the dumb creation; it pleased me especially, for I do so
+love the world of animals.  I found that I might pat the
+gentle fawns, and by a few kind words draw them towards
+me, rubbing their pretty heads against my hands, and
+looking up in my face with their confiding, soft brown eyes.
+I thought of the time when 'the wolf also shall dwell with
+the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and
+the calf and the young lion, and the fatling together; and
+a little child shall lead them.'  Happy period of millennial
+blessedness! for then the fiercest will have parted with
+their savage nature.  This day was a pretty general picture
+of the daily life at Parkhurst Manor&mdash;so domestic! so
+purifying! so elevating!  Then the sweet worship of the
+chapel!  By what holy ties does this family seem bound
+together! thus privileged to worship God as one family.
+It has its soothing effect upon my spirit&mdash;everything here
+draws one upward, even surrounded as we are by wealth
+and elegance.  God is in all, and over all.  This is the
+perfection of human life.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yesterday was Sunday at Parkhurst&mdash;what a holy day!
+The children take their meals with us on that day.  No late
+hours on that sacred morning&mdash;so quiet, so refreshing was
+the sweet early morning hour!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The earl paused after the blessing was asked&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Now, my children, for our texts.'  The father and
+mother reverently repeated theirs; Lord N&mdash;&mdash;, and Lady
+Alice followed, then each of the children repeated seriously
+the Sunday text.  It was a touching lesson; this reverence
+for God's holy word!  This was practical obedience to the
+command which says,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children,
+and shall talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and
+when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down,
+and when thou risest up.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"As I listened, I could easily understand how much they
+must learn in a whole year.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Our children are very anxious to remember all these
+texts, Miss Hamilton,' said the earl; 'they also learn a
+daily text with their instructors, and once a month repeat
+all to me; all who remember them perfectly, are rewarded
+with a handsome book; you have no idea how their library
+grows in this way, and what a stock of Scripture knowledge
+they obtain.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Soon upon the quiet Sabbath air, stole the sweet chimes
+of the village-bells; and when we started, in every direction
+might be seen the villagers in their best attire, crowding
+to the house of God.  It was a pleasant picture to see
+the dear children of the Manor in their simple white dresses,
+straw-hats, and white ribbon, with the daintiest little
+rosebuds for face trimmings; and the lowly, gentle reverence
+with which they all joined in the service of the Church
+of England, did touch my heart so deeply.  Then so
+many of the earl's tenants were there, and all his domestics
+excepting such as were positively necessary at home,
+who took their turn at the afternoon-service.  The services
+were delightful in that quiet country church, and the sermon
+earnest, faithful, Christlike.  After church, the family
+of the earl remained a short time; many of the parishioners
+received his friendly greetings, and the kind salutations
+of the good countess; but it was not for this that
+they remained.  The earl took my hand, and led me to
+that part of the church where a marble slab pointed out
+the final resting-place of the earl's family.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Among other inscriptions, I read: 'Sacred to the memory
+of Augusta, eldest daughter of the Earl and Countess
+of N&mdash;&mdash;, aged eighteen&mdash;Asleep in Jesus.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The parents stood awhile in silence by the vault; the
+mother wiped a silent tear, and the earl, turning to me
+said,&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'My dear Miss Hamilton, I brought you here to impress
+the lessons of mortality; there is much around you, my
+dear young lady, to draw your thoughts to earth; but here
+you see the young, the gifted, the rich, the beautiful must
+lie down at last in the silent grave; let this moderate your
+estimate of the things of time and sense, and teach you
+to set your young affections chiefly on things above.  The
+dear one who lies there had early learned the lesson; she
+was a Christian, she died in the Lord, and we shall meet
+her again.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We turned away; I can never forget that impressive
+lesson.  We returned with serious thoughts to the carriage,
+and I felt 'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The conversation at dinner turned upon the subject of
+the sermon; it was cheerful, subdued, befitting the sacred
+day.  No Sunday rides, no Sunday visiting, but all breathed
+of holiness and heaven.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"After dinner, we all assembled in the drawing-room,
+and before evening worship, all joined in singing hymns,
+and other sacred music.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lady Alice played, Lord N&mdash;&mdash; accompanied with the
+flute; and all, old and young, father, mother, tutor,
+governess, and children joined in the sweet hymns.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"As we sang, I thought&mdash;what memories are here for
+these dear children!  Even though they may lose these
+precious parents&mdash;will they not follow them always 'to
+keep their souls from blight?'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sweet Christian Sabbath!  I never spent such before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It had added another step to the family-ladder, and
+hung another link to the golden chain; by one mounting
+upward, and by the other united, to the family of the
+redeemed in Heaven.  Its holy chants, heavenly hymns, and
+solemn prayer seem here to go with us through the cares
+and trials of the Mondays and Tuesdays of this mortal
+state; until blotting out all earthly days, the earthly and
+heavenly Sabbath glideth into one&mdash;one eternal day of
+holy rest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And thus it seems at Parkhurst&mdash;the spirit of the
+Sabbath is with us all the week.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"On Monday, I observed an unusual number of persons
+coming up the avenue, generally of the poorer classes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Curiosity led me to ask Lady Alice, 'What brings so
+many to-day.'  'If you will come with me, I will show
+you, Miss Hamilton,' and she led me to her mother's small
+room, where, seated at a table, she seemed awaiting her
+visitors.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"On the table stood a writing-desk, and by her side a
+pocket-book, evidently containing money.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Sit down, Miss Hamilton,' said the countess.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Each one had her tale to tell, of sorrow, difficulty, or
+poverty.  The countess listened patiently, kindly to all,
+gave judicious Christian advice, and bestowed upon a
+certain number her weekly allowance for the aged, the sick,
+the struggling with life's cares and toils.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I could not describe the deep respect which I felt for
+this lady in high rank, so surrounded by temptations to
+selfishness; turning aside so humbly, so gently, to listen
+to the tales of sorrow and privation, from the humble
+poor.  They evidently regarded her as a superior being, and
+I could but say 'What has grace wrought!'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Upon inquiry, I find that this is the habit of the
+countess, on every Monday morning, to meet the women of the
+neighborhood, while her husband appoints another day to
+meet the men for the same purpose.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What an influence must this exert for good!  I find that
+even the children have their Saving Fund from which to
+draw for their charities; for during the interview, Lady
+Julia entered modestly, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Dear mamma, here is our money for the little girls,'
+and the good countess smiled upon her daughter, as she
+replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Mrs. McBride and Mrs. Rhyle want Sunday dresses
+for their little girls, that they may go to Sunday-school, and
+this is just enough, Julia.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The child looked very happy as she tripped away, and
+Mrs. Rhyle said, 'What a sweet young lady she is!'
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yesterday, the good pastor dined with us; the conversation
+was all about plans for good among the people; and
+it could scarcely be seen which was most interested, the
+good pastor, or the noble earl, in their benevolent schemes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The wife was an interesting English lady, and much
+of the side talk between the mothers, was about the dear
+children of the Parsonage; for the good countess loved the
+gentle wife of the humble pastor, and knew that this was
+the subject that pleased her most.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have such a pleasant room adjoining the Lady Alice,
+both opening to a verandah, where we spend much of our
+time among the flowers.  My room is daily supplied with
+the most exquisite, which Betty, my English maid, brings
+every morning, with 'the compliments of Lord N&mdash;&mdash;.'  She
+always seems amused; but it is just politeness, and as
+such, I receive them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But lately, I have been a little disturbed; Lady Alice
+sometimes throws out gentle hints, and Lord N&mdash;&mdash; is more
+than polite, I fear; I should be so sorry, for I do esteem
+him so highly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This morning he was passing under the verandah;
+looking up, he said, smiling, 'May I join you, sister?' and
+receiving permission, he came up through a back staircase,
+and joined us on the verandah.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'You look very much like Flora, Miss Hamilton, among
+these flowers; they are so bright, and you so much like
+their queen.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This was the first direct compliment that Lord N&mdash;&mdash;
+ever paid me, and I know that I blushed.  I did not reply,
+for I am awkward at answering compliments.  I simply
+turned the subject, but he selected a moss rose-bud.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Will you wear my flower, Miss Hamilton?' he whispered,
+in a lower tone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I knew not what to say.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'With pleasure,' was my reply, 'if you will give the
+same to Lady Alice.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Then you will seem like <i>sisters</i>; thank you, Miss Hamilton.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I had not perceived the use that he might make of my
+answer, and I was therefore silent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lady Alice was greatly pleased when she placed her
+bouquet in the bosom of her dress; I was rather annoyed
+when I looked at mine&mdash;she whispered,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Would, dear Madeline, that it were so.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I must be circumspect; not for worlds would I wound
+the hearts of these dear friends.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They are dear as valued friends, for they have been a
+great blessing to me; I must pay them with truth and
+candor; and yet this passing fancy of mine may only be
+the result of personal vanity; I will banish the whole from
+my memory, ashamed that it ever entered my foolish brain.
+Aunt Matilda does annoy me, she says so many silly things
+when I am alone with her; if she continues to talk so about
+Lord N&mdash;&mdash;, it will destroy all our friendly intercourse, and
+I shall have to go back to London.  I am so afraid that she
+will make her fancies plain to the family, and that would
+be more than I could endure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yesterday we had company to dinner; the conversation
+turned upon England and America.  One gentleman was
+evidently prejudiced, and spoke disparagingly of our country.
+I felt the blood rise to my face, for he did not speak
+the truth.  The good earl came to the rescue.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Have you ever been in America, Sir Edward, or met
+many of its people?'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'I have not,' was the reply, with some embarrassment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Then, I think, sir, that you should withhold your
+judgment with regard to our American cousins; some of the
+most intelligent, frank, and gentlemanly persons that I
+have ever met, have come from that country.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'I have read travels, my lord, and have received my
+impressions from such writers as Dickens, Mrs. Trollope,
+&amp;c.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Indeed, Sir Edward, I never was more heartily ashamed
+than when I read Dickens's book; after receiving so many
+hospitalities, to return them with such prejudiced accounts
+of his sojourn,&mdash;I for one do not believe them; I have met
+some of the American clergy, and authors, and other
+distinguished men, and, as a true and loyal Englishman, I can
+say that I have never met more refinement, intelligence, or
+sterling worth, than among the Americans.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Thank you, my lord,' I replied, for I could no longer
+keep silent; 'it has always seemed so strange that there
+should be any rivalries between us, for are we not the
+same people? the same language, the same descent, and
+the same religious faith?  For my part, I am willing to
+acknowledge the great debt we owe to England.  From
+her, we have our finest authors, the very gems of literature;
+from her, the noblest specimens of philanthropy and
+genius; and from her, our Christian faith, and the very
+formulas in which we worship God.'  I blushed, and drew
+back, for I had not been aware how long a speech I was
+making, until I saw the look of approbation in the earl's
+countenance, and the warm glow upon Lord N&mdash;&mdash;'s.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'These are noble sentiments, Miss Hamilton,' said the
+good earl.  'I was always sorry for the obstinacy of George
+the Third; for through him we lost those colonies which
+are now merged into so great a nation.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'But perhaps,' remarked my father, 'we might not have
+been what we are, if we were still under monarchical rule;
+our free institutions have spurred on enterprise of every
+kind, and started us as a nation far ahead in many things.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'I am a true, staunch Englishman,' replied the earl,
+'and am not willing to own that anything can be better
+than the mild and beneficent rule of our gracious Queen
+Victoria, under the good constitution of old England.  I
+think you Americans are too fast, and are growing to be so
+large, as almost to become unwieldy; this is what I fear
+for America; her very freedom may be abused.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'We are a driving people, my lord, fast in every way;
+in enterprise, in business, in habits of living; in fine, I fear,
+with you, too fast; too reckless in modes of making money;
+and in many quarters I see signs of corruption, which must
+bring upon us God's judgments; I fear, my lord, sometimes
+for the future of my beloved country, for God rules among
+the nations, as well as among individuals.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'May God preserve America to be a bright example of a
+fine, intelligent, and virtuous people,' said the good earl;
+'and now, Mr. Hamilton, let me give you a toast&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'America, the stalwart child of Old England&mdash;may they
+go side by side, in all that is good, and great, and glorious!'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And then my father responded,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Queen Victoria, and the realm of Great Britain&mdash;may
+she long be spared to bless her great dominions.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Both toasts were drunk standing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir Edward sat rather silent for the rest of the meal, and
+the good earl patted me kindly on the head in the
+drawing-room, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Yours is a warm and noble heart, Miss Hamilton; may
+it find its mate in good old England.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What does the earl mean?  I hope nothing with reference
+to his son; I should be truly distressed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Another bunch of flowers from Lord N&mdash;&mdash;; they are very,
+very sweet; but I laid them by the side of the old withered
+sea-weed, and their charm was gone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ah, Roland! do you cherish the little shoe and the
+child's picture yet!
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * *  *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My father is worse, I see it daily; he is losing his spirits,
+and the earl seems distressed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Am I to lose my father, my dearest earthly tie?  He
+sent for me to-day to come to his room.  He looked so sad,
+sitting in his large easy chair.  He took me on his lap, as
+when I was wild little Mad-cap.  'Madeline, my daughter,
+I sent for you, because I have much to say.  I am not so
+well, my child; indeed, the signs in my case warn me that
+I have not much longer to live.  I have arranged everything
+for you; you are left independent, with none to
+trammel you, and the power to choose your own guardian.
+I can trust you, Madeline, in all things; I could have
+wished to leave you under the care of a wise and faithful
+companion, worthy of my daughter; but that is a subject
+in which I shall not bind you; you are free to choose there
+wholly for yourself.  I shall not live, Madeline, to cross the
+ocean.'  O, how my heart sank!  I bowed my head on his
+dear shoulder, and wept convulsively.  'Do not speak so,
+dear papa, I cannot bear it,' was my answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He smoothed my hair, impressed warm kisses on my
+cheek, and soothed my troubled spirit with kind and loving
+words.  'And now, Madeline, with regard to higher subjects,
+I would say that my residence in this holy family has
+not been in vain.  I have long been in the habit of reading
+the Scriptures; the good earl has manifested the deepest
+interest in my spiritual welfare; he visits me every
+evening in my room; and it is owing to his influence that I
+have been led to consider the need of preparation for another
+world.  I have renounced all dependence upon my moral
+life, and look only to the Blessed Saviour for salvation in
+the world to come.  It is my desire, Madeline, to testify
+my faith in His atoning sacrifice next Sunday, in the
+village church, at the table of our Lord; are you not ready,
+my darling, to accompany me in the solemn act?'  I could
+not answer my father, for mingled feelings of joy and
+sorrow filled my heart; floods of happiness at the humble
+declaration of his faith, and unspeakable sorrow at the thought
+of parting from one so beloved.  I promised my dear parent
+to think upon the subject, for I had lately longed for the
+blessed privilege.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I sought the room of the countess, and confided to her
+the subject of our conversation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Would you like to see our pastor, Miss Hamilton?'
+was the kind suggestion, and the good lady sent for her
+faithful guide.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He was so good, so gentle, so Christ-like that I could
+easily tell him the whole history of my inner life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Are you resting <i>wholly</i>, my dear Miss Hamilton, upon
+the merits of the Redeemer for salvation?'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Wholly, entirely, my dear sir, from the bottom of my
+heart I can say, "None but Jesus."'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Are you willing to devote yourself, soul and body, to
+your Master's service, my child?'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'That is my desire, and has long been the language of
+my heart.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Then come, and welcome, to the table of the Lord, my
+dear child; Jesus will not reject such as you.'
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Last Sunday, for the first time, by my father's side, I
+bowed at the table of my Lord and Master; received the
+emblems of His dying love, and promised to be His forever.
+O, what a precious privilege!  And then by the side of my
+dear father.  Now we are one in the most sacred of all
+bonds.  After church, the countess pressed a warm kiss
+upon my cheek, and said, 'One in Jesus, dear Madeline;'
+the Lady Alice pressed my hand in silence; and Lord
+N&mdash;&mdash; looked so very happy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Bless God for this sweet sanctuary of a Christian
+home!  My father says that we must go back to London;
+and when we reach there he will tell me why, saying,
+'Trust all to God, dear Madeline; whatever he wills is
+right.'  Aunt Matilda is pleased with the idea; for the
+quiet of country life does not suit her.  She is only sorry
+at leaving Lord N&mdash;&mdash;, but says that 'he will soon follow
+us.'  I wish that she would not talk such folly, nor such
+nonsense about old Lord C&mdash;&mdash;, who was really quite
+devoted to aunty when in London."
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap25"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XXV.
+<br><br>
+PARTING FROM ENGLISH FRIENDS.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+The noble park and green lanes of Parkhurst, with all its
+elevating joys, were soon to be exchanged for private
+lodgings in a crowded city; and Madeline's spirits sank as she
+contemplated a return to London with her beloved parent;
+for she could no longer blind herself to the fact that day by
+day he was fading from her sight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Standing alone, on the evening before her departure on
+the verandah, where she had spent so many happy hours,
+she was indulging in mournful reveries; she should probably
+see this beautiful park, this happy home, these charming
+scenes no more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While musing thus, Lord N&mdash;&mdash; passed under the verandah.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"May I come up, Miss Hamilton?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If you wish, my Lord; I am alone, and would be glad
+to see you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The step of the young man was not gay and joyous as
+on other days, and Madeline perceived that he wore a
+serious, saddened countenance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You leave us, to-morrow, Miss Hamilton; may I ask a
+place in your remembrance?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall never forget the pleasant hours at Parkhurst,
+Lord N&mdash;&mdash;, or the dear friends that I have made in this
+happy home."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was silent for one moment, and then with deeper
+feeling said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But may I not ask a particular place in your
+remembrance, a nearer, dearer than a passing acquaintance, that
+will be forgotten in a day?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do number you, my lord, among my most valued
+friends; and I shall never forget you personally."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ah, Madeline! the memory will not be to you what it
+will ever be to me&mdash;the one green spot in life, which I shall
+cherish so fondly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She bowed her head, and was silent; for painful emotions
+were stirring in her heart, and tears were crowding
+beneath the drooping eyelids.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline, we may not meet again; I cannot let you
+leave us without asking, is there any hope that I may
+obtain the rich love of your noble, fresh young heart?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She turned a frank look upon the young man, while her
+eyes swam in tears, as she replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I cannot deceive you, Lord N&mdash;&mdash;; my deepest respect
+and warmest friendship are yours, but my love I
+cannot give."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, Madeline? does another possess that which I
+would make any earthly sacrifice to obtain?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is a delicate question, Lord N&mdash;&mdash;; my hand is
+free, but my heart has long been" (and she blushed as she
+uttered the words) "interested in another.  I never knew
+until to-day how much, how deeply.  This is a painful
+confession, but due to you, my lord; for had it not been so, I
+could not have been insensible to worth like yours."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He bowed over the fair young hand extended in friendship,
+and replied&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"May you be happy, Madeline! happy in love as pure,
+as devoted as mine.  I will not say that my heart is
+broken; that is the language of a silly, brainless man; nor
+will I say that my hopes are crushed, for God our Father
+rules on earth, as well as in Heaven, and his will is not
+what I had hoped.  I submit, I trust, with patience, and
+by-and-bye, I doubt not, will see the reasons why I have
+been disappointed in my first affection."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He will guide you, I doubt not, my lord, in all the
+events of life; and one so benevolent, so useful, so noble
+as you, cannot be unhappy; for there is too much in this
+wicked world for Christians to do, to spend their lives in
+vain regrets."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We are one in Christian hope, Madeline, and that is a
+comfort; one in all schemes of good for our fellow-men."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will you pray for me, Lord N&mdash;&mdash;?  Sore trials are
+before me, and I need a Saviour's grace to sustain me in
+what is surely coming."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are before me morning and evening, Madeline;
+and, though separated by the wide ocean, I shall remember
+you whenever I bend the knee to my Father in Heaven."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We shall be friends, Lord N&mdash;&mdash;," continued Madeline,
+as she extended her hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Madeline; after a while, true and faithful friends.
+I shall rejoice when you are happy, and be sad when you
+are afflicted."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were not aware of the passage of time until Lady
+Alice was heard calling, "Madeline, where are you?  Papa
+and mamma sent me to look for you.  Come to the
+drawing-room, we must have some music to-night," and she ran
+hastily up to the verandah, and drew away her young
+friend, saying&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Brother, I think you are very selfish; we want Madeline
+to-night, as it is her last evening at Parkhurst."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lord N&mdash;&mdash; did not answer, and Madeline followed Lady
+Alice, deeply pained at the disappointment which she knew
+would fill all that family circle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She took her seat at the harp, but begged to be excused
+from singing, for she could scarcely trust her voice to speak.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lord N&mdash;&mdash; seated himself at a distant window, shading
+his eyes with his hand.  Lady Alice stood by her side,
+and Madeline played in her most touching style many of
+her beautiful pieces.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Some of your sacred music, Miss Hamilton," said the
+earl, "for that suits the tone of our feelings," and she
+played some exquisite variations from the hymn, "I would
+not live alway."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Every heart was full; silence reigned among them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, one hymn of hope, Madeline," said the countess,
+and all the group joined in the sweet words&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "How firm a foundation! ye saints of the Lord!"<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+and, supported by the others, she too poured forth her
+wondrous notes in strains of melody, while the rich chords
+of the harp accompanied the choir of voices.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They parted sadly that night, and the next morning
+early, left with feelings of deepest sorrow the sweet shelter
+of Parkhurst Manor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We shall see you in London, Madeline," said Lady
+Alice, "for you will need us, dear."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A great change awaited our young friend; quiet lodgings
+and the rooms of an invalid were exchanged for the spacious
+accommodations and elegant ease of the home they had
+left.  Aunt Matilda was sadly discontented, and shrewdly
+suspected what had taken place at Parkhurst.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline, I have a right to know; I am sure that Lord
+N&mdash;&mdash; loves you deeply.  Have you rejected him?  Are
+you such a blind, silly girl?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do not ask me, aunt; surely I have a right to some
+privacy of thought and action."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You cannot deny it; you have rejected one of the first
+offers in Great Britain, and you are just a fool, and nothing
+else, Madeline Hamilton!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Would you have me give my hand without my heart,
+Aunt Matilda?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A fiddlestick for a heart, Madeline, when a coronet was
+laid at your feet, to turn away&mdash;I know what for; I am so
+ashamed for you, that I cannot utter all I think.  Now I
+am sure that you love that beggar-boy; for nothing else
+could make you reject such a splendid match as the son of
+an English earl."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Spare me, dear aunt, and let us talk of something else;
+when dear papa is so ill we have enough to think about."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She could not forgive her niece, and seldom exchanged
+any thing but the merest words necessary for daily
+duties&mdash;cold, constrained, often harsh.  She took the first
+opportunity to acquaint Mr. Hamilton with the facts of the case.
+He was both surprised and grieved, for he had seen with
+pleasure the growing attachment of the young nobleman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline, how is it that you rejected Lord N&mdash;&mdash;?
+Few young ladies would turn away from such an offer.  I
+had hoped that his goodness and mental worth, not to
+speak of his lovely family, would have certainly won your
+heart."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do not let us talk about it, dear papa, I do not love
+Lord N&mdash;&mdash; as I should a husband; he is a dear friend,
+but nothing more."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I cannot account for it, Madeline, unless your heart is
+previously occupied; if so, should you not tell your father?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am bound to no one, dear papa; just let me wait
+upon you, and administer to your comfort, that is all I ask."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Remember what I have said, Madeline; it would have
+made me very happy if you could have accepted this young
+man, not on account of his noble birth, or wealth, but just
+for his modest, manly piety and worth.  But in this matter
+you must choose for yourself, and God will bless my
+daughter."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After a consultation of eminent physicians, the painful
+alternative was proposed to Mr. Hamilton.  When they
+had gone, he sent for his daughter.  "Madeline, you
+remember that I told you in all things we must trust in God;
+you have now great occasion for that holy confidence.  I
+have never told you until now the nature of my disease.
+It has been a long and painful process that has brought me
+to the crisis; an operation is necessary, my child;" observing
+Madeline's pallid face, he continued, "do not be alarmed;
+all is in the hands of a wise and gracious God.  It may
+be successful, or I may sink under the operation; but
+nothing else can be done, and we must prepare our minds;
+it will be speedily over, there will be no very long
+suspense.  Be the end what it may, I trust that I am
+prepared; my hopes are all upon the 'Rock of Ages.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When will it take place, papa?" asked the trembling
+girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In about ten days," was the answer; "and now, darling,
+we will talk no more about it; to-morrow will be
+Sunday; you must go to church, Madeline, and have prayers
+offered for me; Aunt Matilda will stay with me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a season of sweet and holy refreshment to the
+young pilgrim, for she needed the heavenly manna for her
+weary, anxious spirit.  Passing out of church, what was
+her surprise to see Roland, the friend of her youth,
+standing at the door in company with two gentlemen; the one
+elderly, of noble presence, and the other a young
+gentleman, of whom she had no remembrance.  Roland
+advanced, extended his hand, and said&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How is it that you are here alone, Miss Hamilton?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My father is very ill; my aunt is staying with him,
+and he sent me to have prayers offered for him.  I need
+them, oh, how much! remember me, Mr. Bruce."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline was pale and worn, and Roland was touched
+by the expression of deep sorrow upon her fair young face.
+He took the little hand as in days of yore, and said, in low
+tones&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you dream, Miss Hamilton, that I can ever forget
+you at a throne of grace?  You are always remembered
+there and everywhere."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland then hastily introduced his friends, but Uncle
+Malcolm had recognized the young lady that he had once
+met before in a carriage.  A glance at the earnest gaze of
+Roland, and at the downcast blush of Madeline, caused a
+smile to flit across the face of the good man, as he
+remembered the days of his youth, and the sweet blushes of
+Mary Gordon in the first days of their innocent, unhappy
+love.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where are you staying, Mr. Bruce?" asked the young
+lady; "I may need your presence ere long."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland gave his address, and they parted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, Roland Bruce!" said Edmund, "of all the sly
+fellows that I have ever met, you exceed&mdash;here have I been
+prating to you of Madeline Hamilton's beauty, and behold,
+she is an old acquaintance!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland smiled, as he replied, "Yes, I knew her in
+America, ever since she was ten years old; and I am
+therefore somewhat acquainted with the young lady."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And why, then, do you not visit your old friend?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland's countenance fell, and drawing himself proudly
+up, he replied, "We will change the subject, if you please,
+Edmund."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Madeline returned, she sought her father's room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Papa, I met Roland Bruce, to-day, at church; he seemed
+so concerned to hear that you were sick."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is he doing in London, Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He is in attendance upon a young man whose studies
+he is directing."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I should like to see him, Madeline; he is a noble fellow,
+and has been a kind friend to my little girl; I do not think
+that he was very well treated by your aunt; but as eternity
+approaches, my daughter, the distinctions of life melt away.
+I did not want to dismiss him from our house&mdash;send for
+him to-morrow, and tell him to bring his friend, Mr. Graham,
+with him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the morrow, a few lines summoned him to the sick
+room, but without Mr. Graham.  Shocked at the change in
+Mr. Hamilton, he took his withered band, and seating
+himself by his side, he said, "These are hours of weakness,
+dear sir, and need a strong support."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They are, Roland; I feel flesh and heart failing, but I
+can say God is now the strength of my heart&mdash;your dear
+patient sister was the little messenger that brought the
+first whispers of the Spirit, Roland; I never forgot her
+dying words."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For a minute, the brother was silent; but seizing the
+pale hand, and pressing it warmly, he replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh!  Mr. Hamilton.  What joyful news! my little
+Effie! was she, indeed, the messenger to you? wonderful
+are the ways of God!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Roland, and I have always wanted to tell all that
+those words have done for me.  I felt that her faith was
+real; from that day, I have been reading my Bible with
+earnest prayer, and it has revealed to me a Saviour,
+all-sufficient for the darkest hour, all-merciful to the greatest
+sinner&mdash;will you pray with me, Roland?" and the young
+man bowed down by the side of Madeline, at her father's
+bed-side, and poured out an earnest, heartfelt prayer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There will soon be a painful trial, Roland; will you be
+with us when the day arrives?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I promise, Mr. Hamilton;" and Roland retired.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was frequent in his visits to the sick-room, introducing,
+also, Uncle Malcolm, whose strong, fervent faith,
+and Scriptural wisdom, was an unspeakable blessing to the
+suffering man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To-morrow is the day, Roland; bring your friend;" and
+Mr. Hamilton pressed the strong hand of his young friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What was Roland's surprise, to see Madeline pale, composed,
+and steadfast, by the side of her parent's bed, awaiting
+the physicians.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can you bear this trial, Miss Hamilton?" was Roland's
+whispered inquiry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I cannot leave my father; who else should sustain him
+but his own daughter?  I have prayed for strength; it is
+mine, Roland;" for in the deep feelings of the moment, she
+dropped the ceremonious title which she had used of late.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The surgeons arrived&mdash;instruments were prepared; the
+sufferer calm and tranquil; Madeline heroic as a loving
+woman should be; Roland, full of sympathy for her;
+Malcolm strong, tranquil, prayerful.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My daughter, is it not too much?" whispered her
+father.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For you, my father? can anything be too much?  I can
+bear all;" and she kissed the dear face with steadfast lips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Close by her father's side, with restoratives in her hand,
+she remained throughout the whole painful trial; cold, and
+pale as marble.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland stood near her, and Malcolm on the other side,
+with eyes closed, and heart uplifted to God in prayer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is all over," said the principal surgeon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How?" whispered Madeline, to Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Safe, Madeline!  It has been successful."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The tension had been too much; the strong heart of love
+gave way to the woman's weakness; the reaction was too
+great; and Roland, perceiving her falling, lifted her tenderly
+in his arms&mdash;the first time that he had pressed her form so
+closely since the days of childhood; imprinting one warm,
+pure, and tender kiss upon the sweet, pale face, he laid her
+quietly upon the couch in the next room.  Aunt Matilda
+was there in anxious suspense.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is it over, Mr. Bruce?" asked the lady.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"All is well, madam, thus far, but Miss Hamilton needs
+your care;" and he bathed the face of the unconscious girl
+with the cologne that he had brought from the next room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will perform these offices, sir; you are not needed
+here,"&mdash;and dismissing him haughtily from the room, she
+proceeded to loosen the clothes, and apply restoratives.
+The fainting was deep and long, and hastily she called a
+physician from the next room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Yielding to remedies, in a few more minutes, some gasping
+words, and a heaving of the chest, indicated returning
+consciousness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The eyes unclosed&mdash;"How is my father, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Quite composed," was the reply; "he needs perfect
+quiet; do not see him just yet; there must be no emotion;
+when you are entirely restored, you can attend him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When can you pronounce him out of danger?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We cannot tell for twelve hours what will be the result."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline lay quiet for another hour, her lips moving constantly
+in prayer; at length she arose.  "I am better, aunt;
+give me a glass of wine; I must return."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am afraid, my dear child, that it is too much."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, aunt, I cannot stay here&mdash;see!  I can walk firmly;
+I am perfectly restored;" and she passed quietly into the
+next room.  Stooping over her father, she pressed one long,
+loving kiss upon his dear face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do not speak; I shall not leave you, dear papa, again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Malcolm watched with deep interest the strong love that
+filled the heart of Madeline; and coming to her side, he
+said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My dear young lady, is your strength equal to this
+great demand?  I am ready to stay, and Roland will aid
+me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She smiled as she replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But you are not his daughter, his Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Hamilton slept apparently in perfect peace.  Madeline
+watched him with untiring patience and hope.  Whenever
+he stirred, she was directed to administer, in small
+doses, the stimulants that were ordered by the surgeons.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is the danger?" inquired Madeline; "he seems
+so quiet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The want of reaction; sinking of the vital powers, my
+dear young lady."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is there any reaction yet?" asked she, with a trembling
+voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"None whatever," replied the surgeon, as he sat holding
+the pulse&mdash;"but it may come yet; there is a great
+difference in constitution."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Hamilton was evidently in a state of insensibility,
+which Madeline mistook for sleep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You had better administer the wine, my dear," was
+the surgeon's direction.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will it not disturb his sleep, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not at all, my dear child."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And Madeline from time to time offered a tea-spoonful
+of wine to the exhausted man, only a part of which he
+appeared to swallow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Hours rolled on&mdash;Roland saw the quiet agony of the
+devoted daughter, as no symptoms for the better appeared.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Shall I take your place, Madeline, for a few minutes?"
+whispered Roland, as he beckoned to Mr. Graham to lead
+her to an open window; and while she stood there, leaning
+upon the shoulder of this good man, Roland continued
+watching, and dripping the wine drop by drop.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Graham whispered&mdash;"Luik unto the Rock that is
+higher than we, dear Miss Hamilton," for he saw what was
+approaching.  "There is a friend that sticketh closer than
+a brother; trust him, my dear young friend;" and while
+she leaned so confidingly upon the strong man, he whispered
+earnest words of fervent prayer for the dear father stretched
+upon that bed of languishing, and for her so soon to be
+bereaved, that she was comforted and strengthened.  "Take
+me back to my father's side, Mr. Graham.  I must not
+leave him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The twelve hours had passed&mdash;no signs of returning
+consciousness had yet appeared.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The surgeon beckoned to Malcolm Graham to come into
+the next room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is all over, sir&mdash;there is scarcely any pulse&mdash;he may
+recover consciousness, but he is passing away.  God help
+the daughter; you must prepare her."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline had seen the signal.  "Let me go, Roland; I
+must know the worst;" and hastily she followed Mr. Graham.
+He was standing by the side of the mantel-piece,
+with his head bowed upon his hands, and strong emotion
+was shaking his frame.  He perceived Madeline.  Taking
+her by the hand, he led her kindly to the couch&mdash;they were
+alone.  Placing his fatherly arm around her, he said with
+a caressing voice, "Lean on me, my child;" and he tenderly
+smoothed the soft brown hair, that lay dishevelled around
+her face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God is trying ye, my dear; ye hae lately given yoursel'
+to him; ye and yer dear father.  He is going to tak'
+him first; can ye say, 'The Lord gave, and the Lord hath
+taken awa', blessed be the name o' the Lord?'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her head sank lower, lower; she had fainted&mdash;Malcolm
+laid her down tenderly as a woman, and knelt by her side,
+administering restoratives, chafing the cold hands, and
+lifting up his heart in prayer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She opened her eyes&mdash;a sweet, sorrowful smile passed
+over her face, as she whispered, "It is a hard trial, but the
+Lord's will be done; my father is a Christian, and I can
+say now, he is thine; take him, dear Lord, to thyself; but
+O, Mr. Graham! this human heart!  How lonely will it be!
+My father was parent, mother, brother, friend!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Comfort will come, my dear child, if ye are ane o' the
+Saviour's fold; he is afflicted when ye are sad, has borne
+all yer sorrows, carried all yer griefs."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, let us return, Mr. Graham," and Madeline took
+her place again by her father's side.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A few more silent hours passed&mdash;about midnight, there
+was some motion visible in the form that lay there so
+deathly still.  Slowly he unclosed his eyes, and raising his
+hand, said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where is my daughter, my Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She is here, dear papa," was the quick response.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Kiss me, darling; I am in the midst of the dark valley,
+just passing over, Madeline; but 'his rod and his staff, they
+comfort me.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She stooped over the dear parent; he folded her fondly
+to his heart; then held her off; looked at her one minute
+with unutterable love; then pressed upon her cheek the cold
+kisses of lips that were chilled in death.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have been a comfort to me always, Maddy; you
+will meet me, darling, in the better world; be true to your
+dear Saviour, Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you suffer, dear papa?" was the affectionate,
+anxious question.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not at all; perfect peace! perfect peace!  God be
+praised!" and in another minute, the spirit of Lewis
+Hamilton had departed to its rest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Tak' her, Roland," said Mr. Graham, as he saw the
+drooping form of the afflicted daughter.  Tenderly he
+led her to the adjoining room, and whispered words of
+Christian sympathy and love, in her hour of sore trial.
+Aunt Matilda had remained in the room with her brother,
+until the last moment, and had then sought her own room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O, Roland! you know what I have lost," said the poor
+girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Madeline, but think of his everlasting gain;" and
+Roland sat with Madeline's dear hand clasped in his, as in
+the days of yore.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lady Alice had heard of the bereavement, and accompanied
+by her brother, she sought the house of the mourner,
+at the earliest period after the funeral was over.  Roland
+was there, and Lord N&mdash;&mdash; needed none to tell him of the
+deep love that dwelt in the heart of Roland Bruce for the
+orphan girl.  But there was something in the humble,
+deferential manner of the young man, which led Lord N&mdash;&mdash;
+to wonder if he were really an accepted suitor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And for Roland himself&mdash;when the first hours of sorrow
+had passed, and all were trying to return to their accustomed
+pursuits, more than ever did he feel the vast difference
+between himself, the poor young lawyer, just
+launching upon the theatre of life, and the rich young
+heiress of Woodcliff, the idol even in noble circles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What could Madeline ever be to him, but the sweet
+child that he had trained, the young girl that he had
+watched so carefully, and the noble woman whom now he
+reverenced?  He was allowed access to the house, because
+Aunt Matilda had now no authority over Madeline, and
+independent as she always was, she would not allow dictation
+here; but only as a friend he came, and Madeline felt that
+it was so.  Once more she sought the house of God, where
+she had been accustomed to worship.  Clad in deep mourning,
+she took her seat among the worshippers, and listened
+to the Gospel message, with a full and trusting heart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a communion season, and as she bowed around
+the chancel, she did not perceive, until she was returning
+to her seat, that Lord N&mdash;&mdash;, Roland, and Mr. Graham had
+all knelt at the same table.  It was a very sweet and
+soothing thought that here they could all hold blessed
+communion with their common Saviour; and though Uncle
+Malcolm and Roland were of different sects from herself, they
+were all one in Christ Jesus, "one faith, one hope, one
+baptism."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lady Alice was about to return to Parkhurst; but ere
+she went, she came to bid farewell to Madeline, who was
+soon to return to America.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am sorry, dear, that you cannot be my sister, but I
+shall always love you; it is a great disappointment to us
+all, but especially to my dear Alfred.  I have brought you
+our likenesses, Madeline, with our hair woven on the back;
+you can cherish us as friends, dear."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You do not blame me, Lady Alice, I hope; I esteem
+your brother more than any one that I have met in England;
+and for yourself, dear friend, I shall love you always,
+just as if you were my sister&mdash;you will promise to write
+frequently, will you not?  I have something for you, Alice,"
+and Madeline brought out a lovely miniature, a perfect
+likeness of herself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, Madeline; I never saw any thing more
+beautifully painted&mdash;now, farewell! be sure to write often;
+but be assured that I do not blame you; for as I am sure
+that you must love another, I have nothing more to say;
+nothing else could prevent you from loving my dear
+brother."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And thus they parted, these two young girls who had
+learned to love each other so well.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lord N&mdash;&mdash; came also ere he left the city.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I may call you Madeline, may I not? for I am trying
+to school myself to look upon you as a dear friend; I could
+not let you go without a farewell, sad though it may be."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am glad to see you, my lord, and hope to hear of
+your welfare through your dear sister."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think that I have seen my rival, Madeline, in the
+young man that I have met here; and I do not wonder;
+that noble brow, on which sits enthroned the lofty intellect,
+the only signet of true nobility, and that manly form, I could
+not but admire, while I dare not, as a Christian, envy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are mistaken, Lord N&mdash;&mdash;; Mr. Bruce is but my
+friend."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He will be more, Madeline, before many years; and
+may God bless you both, I shall ever pray.  Farewell! dear
+Madeline, for I may say that in parting," and he wrung
+the fair hand, on which he printed a warm farewell kiss, and
+was gone.
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap26"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+<br><br>
+THE FIRST LINK LOST AND FOUND.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+With a sad heart, Madeline turned her face homeward,
+for no kind father would brighten Woodcliff again.  Uncle
+Malcolm accompanied them to the steamer, which was to
+sail for Liverpool on the ninth of September.  Malcolm
+had become deeply attached to the noble youth who was
+to be the companion of their voyage.  Laying his hand
+upon Roland's shoulder, he gave him his blessing, and
+placing a packet in his hand, said, "Dinna forget, Roland,
+this is but your first visit; I maun see ye again, my son,"
+and turning to Madeline with a moistened eye, he
+added,&mdash;"Farewell! my dear young leddy, ye will na neglect my
+boy, my Roland, I am sure; may God forever bless and
+comfort ye wi' his choicest gifts."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline bowed her head over the warm and honest
+hand, as she replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Roland has been my friend and brother ever since I
+was ten years old; such friendships are not soon forgotten,
+Mr. Graham."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bidding Miss Matilda and Edmund a courteous farewell,
+he took leave of Mrs. Douglass cordially, and left the
+vessel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Their passage must necessarily be a sad one; for on board
+were the remains of Mr. Hamilton, and they could not but
+be solemn in the presence of the dead.  When fairly out
+at sea, Roland opened the packet placed in his hand by his
+good friend, and found to his surprise, a scrip containing
+shares in the Bank of London to the amount of six
+thousand pounds, accompanying which was the following note:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To Roland, from a friend that loves him well, assured
+that he will be a good steward of his Father's gifts."  Examining
+his trunks, he perceived that there was one more
+than he had brought, with his name on it, and a key hung
+to the strap&mdash;what could it mean?  On unlocking it, he
+found a set of valuable law-books, a full suit of handsome
+black cloth, a complete set of shirts, neckcloths, gloves,
+hats, in fine, all that a gentleman needed; and, in addition,
+a small case which, on opening, contained a very valuable
+gold watch; and another, with Uncle Malcolm, Mrs. Lindsay,
+and Annot's pictures.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was overpowered with gratitude, first to the God of
+his fathers, and then to the noble friend whom he had
+raised.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Looking aloft!" whispered Roland, with a full heart,
+"I know now my mother's meaning; O, what a legacy she
+left her son on that death-bed!  From what depths of
+poverty have I been raised!  To what a post of honor and
+prosperity!  To God alone be all the glory!  When she
+bade me trust Him, I did not know the noble friend that
+was then awaiting for me among my native hills, I did
+not then know Malcolm Graham; but God knew where he
+was, and led me to him.  May he give me grace to be a
+faithful steward of His many gifts."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Matilda was still very haughty to Roland, and
+distant to Mrs. Douglass; for she could not brook the
+companionship of the "common class," as she styled these,
+after the society of nobles; she was rather more
+condescending to Edmund Norris, for she had learned that he
+belonged to the upper circles of New York.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline was much alone, and, in her deep mourning
+dress, forbade any approach to light or trifling intercourse.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One evening, having sought a secluded part of the
+vessel, Roland followed her, and found her looking down into
+the deep and solemn ocean.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"May I intrude, Madeline?" for they had both agreed to
+drop the formal titles of ceremony.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are welcome, Roland, welcome always; for I spend
+many sad hours in this lonely vessel, and can never forget
+the sacred relics that are with us."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is a solemn thought, Madeline, but do not let us
+think of the silent dust; let us look upward to the blessed
+rest of the immortal part."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How grandly sublime, Roland, is this rolling ocean!
+so deep! so vast! so boundless!  It reminds one of
+eternity.  I never look down upon its dark waters without
+hearing from its dashing waves the murmurs of another
+world; how many have sunk in this deep abyss, and passed
+hence to their eternity!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you remember, Madeline, how we used to listen to
+its music at Woodcliff, when we were boy and girl?  What
+fancies we used to have!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, truly! we were singular children, Roland; I was
+a giddy little kitten; but no one knows what deep and
+solemn thoughts used to visit me even then;" and turning
+a bright glance upon Roland's face, "I think the first that
+I ever remember was from words uttered by you, the
+boy-sage, as I think now that you always were."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland felt his heart throb with emotions of delight at
+these tender reminiscences, and replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then you still remember, Madeline, the intercourse of
+those childish days."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Remember, Roland!  Yes; they will be remembered
+in the world to come; for your words, your mother's, and
+dear Effie's are the only ones whose impressions have ever
+influenced my life."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What a blessed thought, Madeline! that dear Effie
+should have so impressed your dear father."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Roland, it was a call of mercy; but I knew
+nothing of it then."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God leads us by a way that we know not, Madeline;
+what a blessed thing it is to trust Him!  When my mother
+first taught me these talismanic words, I did not know their
+power; but I have learned since what they mean.  'Looking
+aloft,' upward in all things, in sorrow, in perplexity, in
+adversity, in prosperity, for guidance, for blessing, for
+comfort; I can trust Him for everything now.  When, with
+her weak and trembling voice, she bade me in that hour of
+affliction, 'Look aloft,' when my boyish heart sank within
+me at the prospect of being all alone, I did not know,
+Madeline, of the dear friend, Malcolm Graham, waiting for me
+in Scotland; nor did he know of me, but we were waiting
+for each other; for God knew, Madeline; and He knows
+and will guide all else that shall befall us;" and then he
+proceeded to relate some of the most important features of
+Malcolm's history.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And thus the hours were beguiled until a late time for
+retiring.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Matilda called, "Madeline, it is growing late;"
+and Roland, taking her arm, and placing it within his own,
+led her to the cabin-door, where he bade her "Good
+night."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You seem much interested in the conversation of that
+youth, Madeline; it is not very proper for a young lady to
+be sitting alone until so late an hour with a young man."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline's old spirit flushed her cheek, and tightened
+the proud lip; but she checked herself, as she replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunt Matilda, I am not a child now; my actions are
+free, I believe, of control, so long as I do nothing that I am
+ashamed of; I always was, and shall be, interested in the
+conversation of Roland Bruce, and shall consider myself at
+liberty to talk with him when I please."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O, I dare say, miss, that he is much more interesting
+than Lord N&mdash;&mdash;; I have no patience with you, Madeline,
+to cast away a coronet for such a man as this."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunt Matilda, you must not use such language to me;
+Roland is to me a very dear friend, and nothing more."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You cannot say, Madeline, that he had nothing to do
+with your rejection of Lord N&mdash;&mdash;."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I cannot be questioned, Aunt Matilda; but I will never
+slight, or cast aside a friend like Roland Bruce;" and
+Madeline sought her rest with a disturbed spirit, for she feared
+that she had spoken improperly to her aunt, and resolved
+to apologize next day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was stirring early in the morning; and, with the old
+innocence of childhood, she went to her aunt's state-room,
+and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunty, let me in; I have something to say to you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Matilda could not resist the pleading voice, and
+opened the door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am sorry, dear aunt, for what I said last night; will
+you forgive little Mad-cap's hot speech? it is some of the
+old temper, aunty, that will get the mastery; when I can
+sit more humbly at Jesus' feet I shall be better, I hope."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Matilda kissed the dear girl fondly, as of old, saying,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I forgive you, my dear; you are the same little coaxing
+witch that you were when a child; I wonder if you'll ever
+be anything else."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hope I shall always be innocent and truthful as a
+child, aunty; but I think that it is time I had learned to
+govern myself more like a woman."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Douglass was charmed with the simplicity and
+frankness of the young heiress; and, although much
+slighted by Aunt Matilda, Madeline's kindness amply
+compensated for this lack of courtesy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I believe, Madeline, that you would associate with any
+one," said Aunt Matilda; "however low born or obscure,
+it matters not to you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline smiled, as she replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You need never fear, dear aunty; for the vulgar and
+coarse-minded I despise, though dwelling in a palace; it is
+'mind that makes the man;' so you see I come home true
+American, though I have mingled with the nobles of England."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't you think that the earl's family were lovely and
+refined?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, dear aunt; but I did not love them for their rank;
+it was for their worth, their education; and, dwelling in a
+cottage, they would be the same; we saw some, I think,
+even among the higher classes in England, that were not
+remarkable for refinement; for instance, the fat baroness
+that we met at our dress-maker's; don't you remember her
+vulgar airs when she tried to impress us with her style?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes; but then you know that she had not always
+belonged to the haut-ton; she was one of the 'nouveaux
+riches.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In fine, Aunt Matilda, she was not a genuine lady,
+and never could be made one; whereas, Mr. Graham is
+one of nature's noblemen that I used to talk about when a
+little girl, and he never can be anything else; I have met
+with a few others just like him, dear aunt;" and Madeline
+smiled rather archly upon Aunt Matilda.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She'll never be cured of her plebeian notions," said the
+lady, with u sigh, as she turned away, "and it all comes
+from associating with these Bruces."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline smiled again as she took the arm of Mrs. Douglass,
+and commenced her walk upon the deck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am afraid that we are going to hae a storm," said the
+latter; "the sky is vera threatening, and the wind sighs
+heavily, as if mischief were brewing."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It must be a grand spectacle, Mrs. Douglass, to see the
+war of the elements; I think that I should like to be in a
+storm, if it were not too violent."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What are the signs, Davie?" said Mrs. Douglass to a
+sailor standing near.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We shall have squalls before morning, ma'am.  Mother
+Cary's chickens are flying around, and the wind comes
+from a stormy point of the compass."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Matilda became nervous as she watched the dark
+clouds gathering from so many different quarters, and heard
+the growling of the distant thunder.  The wind rose higher
+and higher, the waves swelled until they rolled and surged
+in heavy billows in the wake of the ship, which commenced
+pitching and tossing from side to side; the rain descended
+in torrents, and, through the speaking-trumpet, the loud
+tones of the captain giving his orders, and the running to
+and fro of the seamen, increased the fears of the ladies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What do you think of the storm, captain?" inquired
+Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We shall have a fierce tempest, my dear young lady;
+but we have a good strong ship, don't be alarmed."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Matilda betook herself to the cabin, and, covering
+herself up in her berth, trembled with apprehension.
+Mrs. Douglass and Madeline committed themselves quietly to
+the care of their Father in Heaven, and Roland paced the
+deck, with his eye turned anxiously upon the warring
+elements, and ever and anon walking near the cabin door,
+hoping to see something of Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is that you, Miss Hamilton?" said the young man, as
+he thought he distinguished her standing at the cabin
+door, in the dim light below.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Shall I come up, Mr. Bruce? it is very close in the
+cabin."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Throw on a cloak and hood; I want you to see the
+storm."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline joined Roland on deck, and, looking around,
+was awe-struck at the scene.  The wind was whistling
+through the canvas, and the ship reeling to and fro
+like a drunken man, seeming, to Madeline's fears, almost
+unmanageable.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is there danger, Roland?" she asked, clinging closer to
+his protecting arm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is always danger in a storm like this, and none
+are safe but those who are anchored on the Rock of Ages,
+Madeline," and Roland drew her closer to him, and threw
+his arm around her to keep her from falling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is a grand spectacle, Roland; we never saw the
+ocean in such a ferment.  How insignificant we seem! how
+powerless!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You remember, Madeline, the sublime verses from the
+Psalms of David, where he describes the life of the
+seaman?  'For he commandeth and raiseth the stormy wind,
+which lifteth up the waves thereof.  They mount up to the
+heaven, they go down again to the depths: their soul is
+melted because of trouble.  They reel to and fro, and
+stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wits' end.  Then
+they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth
+them out of their distresses.  He maketh the storm a calm,
+so that the waves thereof are still.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline listened to the rich, deep voice repeating these
+beautiful words, until, calm and tranquil, she leaned upon
+that strong arm for security, knowing how he trusted in
+the Lord.  But the hurricane increased, the rain beat
+fearfully around them, the waves rose mountain high, and,
+washing over the deck, compelled them to seek shelter
+below.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Shall I come in, Madeline?" asked Roland, when he
+reached the cabin door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, yes, Mr. Bruce! come in, don't leave as!" called
+out Aunt Matilda, who was suffering agonies.  "We shall
+all be lost! oh, hear the wind, how it howls!  And how
+the vessel rocks!  Listen! listen, Mr. Bruce, to the
+crackling timbers!  Can the vessel stand this storm?" and Aunt
+Matilda wrung her hands in despair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Be calm, my dear Miss Hamilton," was Roland's answer;
+"let us commit ourselves to God, there is safety no
+where else," and he knelt down in the midst of the anxious
+company, and, in earnest words of fervent trust, he called
+upon the God of the tempest, and still "Looking aloft,"
+was calm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Presently, the ship gave a heavy lurch, and rolled over
+on her side; all were thrown violently down on one side
+of the cabin, but she did not right again.  Edmund Norris
+ran to the ladies' cabin, for he felt the fearful danger.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We are going, Mr. Norris!" called Aunt Matilda; "we
+are sinking, I am sure!  O; God, have mercy! have
+mercy!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not yet, my dear madam.  The captain has ordered
+the main-mast sawed away, and then we shall probably
+right again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland, seated on the floor of the cabin, held Madeline
+in his arms.  Not a word escaped her lips, for she was
+quietly reposing upon the promises of her Saviour.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We are in great danger, Madeline; are you resting
+upon the Saviour, dearest?" and Roland bent down in
+agony over the pale face that lay upon his bosom.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know it, Roland, but perfect trust fills my heart; and
+if we go down in the deep water, it is with you, my dearest
+friend, and we shall enter Heaven together, and never go
+out again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was an hour when the ceremonies of life were all
+forgotten, and Roland pressed a warm kiss upon the cold
+forehead and the pale lips that were whispering these
+precious words.  In another minute the ship righted, and
+the cheers of the sailors resounded throughout the ship.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Let us thank God, Miss Hamilton," said Roland, as he
+turned to Aunt Matilda; "for I hope that the storm is
+subsiding," and he poured out, in their midst, an earnest
+thanksgiving for the deliverance which he trusted was near.
+Gradually the storm abated, and, towards morning, the
+waves sank to their ordinary bed, and the vessel went on
+her way.  A temporary mast had to be erected, but, as
+they were nearing port, little anxiety was felt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline blushed when she next met Roland, for she
+feared that, in the hour of danger, she had betrayed too
+much; but the sweet remembrance of his whispered words
+had banished all remaining doubts, and now she knew that
+Lavinia's tales about Helen Thornly must all be false; for
+Roland and honor were to her but one name.  Edmund
+Norris had witnessed the scene in the storm, and understood
+now the silence of his friend whenever he had mentioned
+the name of Madeline Hamilton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were now nearing port.  In a few days, speeding
+up the bay, they were at home.  Roland took lodgings for
+himself and aunt in New York, and Madeline prepared to
+return to Woodcliff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will go with us, Roland," said Madeline; "we
+must look to you to aid us in the last said offices for dear
+papa," and the young man accompanied the party.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will come on to see us, Mrs. Douglass," was
+Madeline's last farewell.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a sad return; for, instead of the beloved father,
+nought remained but the sacred dust to be consigned to
+the silent grave.  The servants gathered in reverence in
+the hall, as the family entered.  Joy at their return was
+mingled with deep sorrow, for they had all loved kind
+Mr. Hamilton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In two days, arrangements were made for the interment;
+and, in the midst of his own people, and the surrounding
+neighborhood, he was laid by the side of his departed wife,
+and the service that he had loved whispered its sublime
+consolations over his grave.  Roland returned to New
+York, and resumed the active duties of his daily life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Not long after Madeline's arrival, the old took, coming
+to her sitting-room, asked to see her for one moment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Miss Madeline, there was a strange woman here the
+other day, inquiring when you would be at home; she
+spoke some queer language, I don't think it was an Irish
+tongue, and she called herself Elsie."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Did she say that she would come again, Betty?"
+inquired Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes; I told her when you were expected, and she said
+that she would come soon.  She was very tired and
+hungry, and I gave her a good supper; that was right,
+was it not, Miss Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Betty, do not turn any one away that wants
+something to eat from Woodcliff; we have a great deal to
+spare, and it is such a blessed thing to give."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In about a week, Mrs. Douglass came down to pay a
+visit.  Aunt Matilda was polite, for she was too
+kind-hearted to be rude in her own home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have you heard any thing from Mr. Bruce's father?"
+inquired Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nae, not yet; but I hae advertised in several papers,
+an' hope that I may get some tiding afore lang."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is strange that he should have left his family so
+suddenly, Mrs. Douglass."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He was aye an odd mon, Miss Hamilton, prone to
+fits of melancholy, an' we often feared that he wud gang
+crazy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After she had been a few days at Woodcliff, an old
+woman called to see her; in going to the hall, what was
+Mrs. Douglass' surprise to see Elsie Gibson! whom she
+immediately recognized.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is that ye, Elsie?" said the lady, grasping her hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm owre glad to see yer face, ma'am; you were aye like
+yer brither Stephen."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can ye tell me ony thing aboot him, Elsie?  I hae a
+fancy that he is still amang us; and I maun find him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It hae been a lang time syne he cam to this country,
+Mrs. Douglass, an' his family had na seen him for years."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is property in Scotland which canna be settled
+until we find the heir, Elsie, an' if ye ken ony thing aboot
+him, will ye na tell his sister?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"His loss was published in the papers in America.
+Mrs. Douglass, an' that is a' that I can say, ma'am."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Elsie would say no more, and spent the rest of her time
+in making inquiries after her kindred in Scotland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are ye na ganging home, Elsie?" continued Mrs. Douglass,
+"there is a comfortable hoose waiting for ye wi' your
+sister, and she is sair grieved that ye bide sae lang awa'."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"As soon as my wark is done in America, I will gang to
+my ain people, for I hae greeted sair for them; but my
+wark is na finished yet; fare ye weel, ma'am, I shall see ye
+ance mair," and Elsie took her departure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Douglass returned to New York, and still continued
+her advertisements, for it was all that she could do.
+After she had been there some months, a note reached her
+from a family in Newark, requesting her to call, as they
+could give her some information with regard to the person
+of whom she was in search.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. and Mrs. Antrim were a Scotch couple living quietly
+outside of Newark, having resided for twenty years in
+America&mdash;Mrs. Antrim, a neat, elderly person, received
+Mrs. Douglass cordially.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I saw your advertisement, madam, and it struck me
+that I might give you some information concerning your
+lost friend."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is my brother, madam, wha is subject to fits of
+derangement, an' wha I think is in America."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Antrim described a mysterious man who had long
+lived in their neighborhood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Douglass listened with deep interest, for she was
+sure that she had found her brother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When was he here last, Mrs. Antrim?" she inquired.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Last Monday, and said that he would come this week."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can ye accommodate me wi' board for a few weeks?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think that we can; we are not in the habit of taking
+lodgers, but if it will be the means of bringing this poor
+man back to his family, I will do it cheerfully."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I dread seeing him, Mrs. Antrim, for if he kens the face
+o' his sister, he will ne'er come again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We must be very cautious; do not address him, Mrs. Douglass,
+take no notice of him.  I have a little grandson
+of whom he is very fond; he is the only one that can make
+him talk; we must watch for opportunities."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Douglass provided herself with a pair of green
+spectacles, and a very plain Quaker dress, that completely
+metamorphosed her, for the bonnet so entirely hid her face,
+that her own relations would not have recognized her;
+this she was to wear whenever the strange visitor should
+appear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a few days, Mrs. Antrim came up to Mrs. Douglass'
+room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He is coming, you had better change your dress."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Douglass did not appear until tea-time; she then
+quietly took her seat at the table, and had time to
+scrutinize the strange guest.  Years had made great changes;
+the tall form was bent, the black hair was thin, and streaked
+with gray, the bright eye was dim and wandering, the once
+rich, dark complexion sallow, and the cheeks hollow and
+shrivelled; an uncertain flickering smile played around the
+lips once so stern and firm; but there was no mistaking
+Stephen Bruce&mdash;there was the marked finger, the same
+voice, and the remains of the same brother that had once
+sat by her side at her father's board.  He talked but little,
+for he saw that there was a stranger present.  The little
+grandson was at the table.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sit by me, George," said the man, as he drew the child
+next to him, and continued, "shall I gie him some o' these
+cakes, Mrs. Antrim?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Robert, but not many."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where hae ye been a' this week, my little mon? ye hae
+na' been to see auld Robert ance."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have been sick, Robert, and grandma would not let
+me go out."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The boy was about ten years did, the age that Roland
+was when his father had disappeared, and had the same
+dark eyes and hair.  The man smoothed the dark hair as
+he said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He is just like ane I luve, Mrs. Antrim."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Douglass could scarcely control her feelings, and
+finding that her food was almost choking her, she arose
+hastily, and left the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where has the strange woman gane, Mrs. Antrim?
+Did I frighten her awa'?  What does she wear that bonnet
+for?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She has had weak eyes, and is not very well, Robert."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I heard her speak aince, Mrs. Antrim; I think that I
+hae heard the voice afore; let me see," and he placed his
+finger upon his lip, as he continued, "I can na' remember,
+but I hae heard it somewhere."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He left soon after tea, and Mrs. Douglass, deeply agitated,
+declared that it was her lost brother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What do you want to do, Mrs. Douglass?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To tak' him hame wi' me to Scotland; our property can
+na' be settled until he gaes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I fear that you will have great trouble before you can
+do this."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Several visits were paid, but still no progress towards
+acquaintance; at last one day, he said suddenly to
+Mrs. Antrim,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is that a Quaker lady?  She seems very quiet, not
+ane o' the clattering kind o' women.  I hae twa books
+which I ken would please her,&mdash;the lives o' George Fox
+an' William Penn; I wonder if she would come up to my
+little cottage."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was wonderful for Robert Duncan, but he seemed
+to regard the quiet lady with a sort of pity.  Mrs. Antrim
+communicated the news to Mrs. Douglass, and with many
+charges to conceal her emotion, they walked up to the
+humble home.  It had but two rooms, very plainly
+furnished&mdash;on one side of his sleeping-room hung a shelf of
+books.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will ye sit doon, ma'am?" said Robert to the Quaker
+lady, and bringing the volumes spoken of, he continued,
+"I thought that ye might like these books, ma'am; wud ye
+like to read them?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Douglass replied, in a low tone; "If thee will lend
+them to me, Robert."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He tried to look under her bonnet, as he said, "It is vera
+like her voice."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Whose voice, Robert?" asked Mrs. Antrim
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It dinna matter, ma'am, it can na' be; for she is far
+awa'."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While they were looking over the other books, two pictures
+fell out from between the leaves of one.  It was but
+a glance&mdash;but it was Mary Gordon's face, and Roland's
+when a lovely child.  Mrs. Douglass was thrown off her
+guard; she seized the pictures.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where did ye get these, Robert Duncan?" and the man,
+alarmed, gathered up the pictures, and hurried off into the
+next room.  Before they left the cottage, he came back,
+and with the suspicious glance of returning insanity,
+said,&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What do ye ken aboot these pictures? hae ye e'er seen
+them before?" and before she could reply, Robert had
+rushed out of the cottage, into a woods near by, and as
+they returned home, they saw him peeping with a dark
+countenance at them from behind some trees.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I fear that we shall not see him soon again," said
+Mrs. Antrim; "he will have one of his dark spells, and we must
+let him seek us now."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For weeks no tidings were heard of the poor man, and
+Mrs. Douglass began to fear that her mission was fruitless.
+It was some time before he appeared at church again, and
+bent on avoiding them, he went out at a side door, and
+they did not force themselves upon his notice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For several weeks it was the same&mdash;Mrs. Antrim hoped,
+however, that the loneliness of the cottage would bring
+him to their fireside in search of his little friend George.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A salutation at the church-door, and a walk home with
+Mrs. Antrim, was the first encouraging sign; and the next
+afternoon, Robert was seen coming slowly up the garden
+path.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think you had better not appear, Mrs. Douglass, until
+he asks for you," said the hostess.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I could na' stay awa' frae little George any mair,
+Mrs. Antrim; how fares the bairn?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He has been asking for you every day, Robert."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The poor man looked pleased, as he caressed the little
+fellow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After a few more visits, he asked for Mrs. Douglass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where is the Quaker lady, Mrs. Antrim?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She will be here directly, Robert," and Mrs. Douglass
+appeared without her bonnet; a simple cap alone covered
+her fine dark hair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Robert looked long and earnestly at the face, as though
+he were studying the resemblance to some one whom he
+had known.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Did ye always live in America, ma'am?" inquired he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The question was unexpected.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hae been here for some time, Robert."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yer dialect is Scotch, ma'am; hae ye iver lived in
+Scotland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is my native land, Robert."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No more conversation passed at this time, and he took
+his leave.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Absent again for some weeks, they sent to inquire, and
+found that he was very sick.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will mak' a desperate trial, Mrs. Antrim; there hae
+been no progress yet in my mission; an' I maun try anither
+mode; let me gae this time to see him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You may go, Mrs. Douglass, and may God be with you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Throwing off her Quaker dress, she assumed her former
+garb, and tremblingly proceeded to the cottage.  Robert
+was very sick; confined entirely to his bed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She entered, took off her bonnet, and advanced to the
+bedside.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Stephen Bruce! my brother Stephen! dinna ye ken yer
+sister?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The countenance of the sick man darkened, as he replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Wha are ye that come to fash a puir sick mon by calling
+him by a wrang name?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dinna ye ken yer ain sister Annie, Stephen?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My sister Annie is in Scotland," replied the man,
+thrown off his guard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She is by yer side, Stephen, yer ain loving, faithfu'
+sister; she has crossed the deep ocean to find ye, an' God be
+praised, she has na' come in vain."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why do ye seek me, Annie?  I am but a puir wretched
+mon; ye canna' want sic a brother."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye are sair distraught, Stephen; I cam to tak' ye hame,
+that ye may get yer ain, my brother."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nane wad want to see a mon that had forsaken wife an'
+bairns as I hae done, Annie."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Just consent to gang wi' me, Stephen."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But no words could change the determination of Stephen
+Bruce; he listened moodily to all his sister's arguments;
+but all was in vain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She took her departure, and her heart sank within her
+when she heard the bolts slide, fastening doors and
+windows against another entrance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She sent each day to inquire; he was getting better; but
+no inducements could persuade him to open his door to the
+family at Mrs. Antrim's, not even to little George.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a few days, the cottage was forsaken; and Stephen
+had vanished from the neighborhood.  Thus the link so
+lately found was lost once more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In vain Mrs. Douglass sought for tidings; there was no
+clue whatever to his movements.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hae no hope but in Elsie Gibson, Mrs. Antrim; I
+think that I shall see her soon."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Advertisements were again inserted in the newspaper;
+but still no news.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length Elsie made her appearance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hae found my brother, Elsie, an' lost him again; can
+ye tell me where he is?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I need na' be so secret noo, as ye ken that he lives; he
+has a strange dislike towards his kin, but I hope that we
+may ow'rcome it, for he is na sae bad as he was."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where is he, Elsie?" asked Mrs. Douglass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He is aboot tharty miles frae here, wi' an auld woman,
+who is kind to him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What led ye to this country, Elsie?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye ken the history o' my early days, Annie Douglass;
+and ye ken fu' well that Elsie ne'er forsakes the ane she
+luves, though Stephen luved anither.  When the tidings o'
+his loss reached Scotland, I greeted sair for him wha lay
+buried in the deep sea; but when he appeared suddenly
+amang us, I saw that his puir mind was a' shattered, for
+he seemed dark an' gloomy, and could na' bear the sight o'
+Malcolm Graham.  He was aye jealous o' that stricken
+mon; an' had the notion that Malcolm yet luved his wife
+wi' a fond an' tender luve.  He hid himsel' frae his friends,
+got some o' his money secretly, bound me by a solemn oath
+to keep his secret, and then started again for America to
+watch his wife.  I kenned that he was crazy; an' leaving
+a comfortable hame, where I had enow to live on weel, I
+cam' owre here; found puir Stephen separated frae his wife
+and bairns, an' wandering aboot wi'out a hame.  I could
+na persuade him to gae back to his wife; but he employed
+me to see that their wants were weel supplied.  I went
+out to sarvice, for I had nae ither way to live.  At last, the
+money he had brought was gane; he had become so much
+warse that he could na' tell me how to write to Scotland;
+then cam' the dark days.  I had to wark vera hard to find
+a hame for puir Stephen; the only thing that I am sorry
+for was that I agreed to stop the letters which Mary sent
+to Scotland, for he was beset wi' the notion that, in this
+way, she could hear frae Malcolm; an' he was niver at rest
+until I brought the letters, an' he destroyed them in my
+sight.  Then he seemed a little better; for he felt that he
+had closed the door for aye between his pure an' holy wife
+an' the mon that she had luved sae truly.  But Stephen
+luved her a' the time.  I used to tak' him sometimes several
+lang mile just to get a glint o' Mary an' her bairns in
+her humble cottage.  I led him to her grave, an' I saw him
+weep bitter tears owre the green sod, and owre the grave
+o' his daughter, Effie; an' I hoped that the warm tears wad
+wash awa' the cloud owre the puir brain; but it is there
+yet, Annie; an' I ken o' only ane ither way to lead him
+hame.  I hae told him meikle aboot his son Roland; he
+luves that boy wi' a' a father's pride; if he could see him,
+he might prevail on him to gang back to Scotland.  I hae
+helped to bear Stephen's sorrows, Annie, an' a' the pay I
+ask is just to see him happy; an' that is my mission here,
+Annie; when I see him wi' his ain people ance mair, an'
+his puir stricken heart at rest, then I shall gang hame
+again, an' spend the rest o' my life in preparing for my last
+journey."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Douglass listened with many tears to this sad story,
+and agreed with Elsie in the fancy that Roland only could
+persuade his father to return.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She lost no time in writing; Roland came at once, and
+the three set out to find the heart-broken man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Elsie entered first.  "Stephen, I hae brought a friend,
+whom ye wad luve to see, an' wha wad luve to see ye."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Wha is it, Elsie?  wha can want to see sic a mon
+as I?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yer son Roland; as soon as he heard where ye are,
+he left all, an' is here, langing to see his father."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Elsie, how can he e'er forget the days o' poverty an'
+woe that I hae brought upon his mother?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He is a Christian, Stephen; he has forgiven a' the
+past, an' a' that he wants noo is to see his father, an' be a
+guid an' faithfu' son to him, as he was aye to his departed
+mother."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Bring him in, Elsie; I maun see my boy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland entered, and before he could prevent it, Stephen
+had crawled out of bed, and lay prostrate at the feet of his
+son.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland instantly raised him from the ground.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do not kneel to me, my father; I came to seek you as
+a loving, faithful son."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can na look upon yer face, yer young noble face,
+Roland, for I am na worthy o' sic a son."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dear father, let us forget the past; my mother would
+smile upon this reunion, and now your sorrows are all over;
+I will cherish and keep you as a true and loyal son."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stephen Bruce could not resist the generous appeal, but
+lifting up his voice, the poor man wept; the fountains of
+the great deep of feeling were broken up, and stormed the
+bosom of the heart-broken penitent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Elsie Gibson stood by&mdash;poor, faithful Elsie; her mission
+was accomplished; her woman's unselfish love was all
+repaid.  She knelt by the side of the bed, and wept long and
+quietly, for hers were the tears of grateful, happy feeling.
+Roland beckoned to his aunt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stephen raised his head, the pale lips quivered, as he
+said, "come, sister Annie, we are a' as ane again;" and
+stretching out his arms, he folded in the embrace of a
+brother's love, the twin-sister of his early days.  There was
+no more need to persuade Stephen to return to Scotland;
+his anxiety to secure to this honored son all his rights,
+made him eager to set sail, that he might, in some measure,
+atone for past neglect.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will return to America, my father, as soon as all
+is settled."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, my son, I can na' be parted ony mair; I maun
+look to ye, my boy, for the strong arm; for I am a puir
+broken doon auld mon, auld before my time;" and Stephen
+folded his son in his arms with feelings of deepest reverence
+and love.  Elsie! poor faithful Elsie, stood in weeping
+silence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Fareweel, Elsie! guid an' faithfu' friend! ye hae been
+true through the darkest days, an' God will bless ye;" and
+Stephen laid his hand upon her head, as he said, "True
+an' faithfu' may we a' meet abuve."  As soon as possible,
+arrangements were made to leave America; farewells
+exchanged; and Roland, hastening from the ship, could still
+glance upward, and say, "Looking aloft!"
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap27"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+<br><br>
+HEARTS' EASE.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+Foreign travel, association with Malcolm Graham, and
+abundant opportunity in Paris, London, and Scotland, for
+improvement, had done much for Roland.  It was seen in
+his daily life, in his professional career, and in the polished
+grace always attendant upon a highly-cultivated mind, and
+a heart purified by holy principles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was henceforth among the leading members of
+the younger barristers of the great metropolis; for although
+but few could be found to adopt his principles of action,
+none failed to respect his character.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Thornly's patronage was generously extended to the
+young man, and the society met at his house was from
+among the choice families of the crowded city.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edgar was still cheering his father's heart by the evident
+improvement in his moral character, and earnest devotion
+to study.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Thornly could never forget the debt of gratitude
+which he owed to Roland; and for Helen, alas! it had
+been a dangerous privilege to dwell in the house with
+Roland Bruce.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He is now a prosperous man&mdash;but does he forget the
+humble friends who had sheltered him in the days of his
+deep adversity?  No&mdash;for no sooner had he returned to
+New York than he remembered Richard and Martha
+Green.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Prosperity warms and expands a noble heart, and only
+chills the sordid&mdash;and from the open purse of this child of
+Providence, many liberal donations found their way to the
+"News-Boys' Home."  A valuable library now filled the
+book-case in the reading-room, and none knew the generous
+donor; but no boy spending his quiet evenings in useful
+reading could experience half of the delicious pleasure that
+Roland enjoyed, when sitting among them, hearing and
+answering their questions; remembering that his means
+had contributed the larger number to the shelves.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland's name often appeared in the public prints in
+connection with important law cases, and never without
+abundant praise; but remembering the source whence all
+came, he was not high-minded, but grateful; for it was God
+who gave him intellectual power and influence; the God
+who in one moment could lay his finger on that active
+brain, and produce universal chaos.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Entering the reading-room one evening, Roland perceived
+a stranger, evidently a gentleman, sitting at the
+table; he raised his head on Roland's entrance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, Stanley! is this you, my good fellow?  Where
+did you come from?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have been in New York some time, Roland, pursuing
+my studies; and seeing your name in the papers, I have
+been trying to trace your steps.  I am interested in these
+good works, and coming to visit this institution, I found
+that you were among its laborers, and have waited to see
+you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It does me good, Stanley, to see your honest face once
+more."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And I am no less glad to meet you, Roland," shaking
+him heartily by the hand; "I was a wild chap in those
+college days."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Stanley; but you were a whole-hearted fellow,
+even when you were doing wrong."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Those days are over, Roland,&mdash;what would you say if
+I were to tell you that I am now among the saints, though
+the very humblest of them all?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What would I say, Stanley?  Is it really so?  Give
+me your hand, your old honest grasp, and let me clasp it
+as a Christian brother.  How was it, Stanley?  Tell me
+all about the great change."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is told in a few words&mdash;the first sermon that I ever
+really heard, was preached at my sick-bed, by one who
+lived the Christian&mdash;it sank right down into my very soul;
+it spoke volumes to me; it haunted me night and day; for
+then I began to feel that I really was a miserable sinner.
+I tried to silence the voice, but it spoke deeper, louder.  It
+followed me into the very dens of dissipated city life.  God
+be praised that it did!  I could obtain no rest.  Suddenly,
+I gave up my evil ways, and my bad companions; and at a
+supper, where many of them were gathered, I publicly
+renounced them all&mdash;they were amazed; they tried the power
+of ridicule; but they knew Stanley, and soon left me to
+myself.  I found peace in Jesus, and I am not ashamed,
+Roland, of the gospel of Christ&mdash;unworthy as I am, I am
+preparing to be an ambassador of him whom I once derided
+and persecuted."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For a moment Roland was silent.  He remembered the
+earnest, fervent prayers, which he had poured out in behalf
+of Stanley; the answer had been long delayed, but it had
+come at last.  They left the room arm in arm, Christian
+brothers.  Roland was full of joyful anticipation, for he
+knew the earnest character of this young man, and believed
+that, like a second Paul, he would preach the everlasting
+gospel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Introducing him into the family of Mr. Thornly, he was
+frequently in his society, and found what he had long
+desired, a fellow-laborer in his Master's cause.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Helen was interested in the bold young champion of
+truth, for she was herself becoming daily more devoted to
+the cause of the Redeemer, less assimilated to the spirit of
+the world.  With her father's full consent, she took an open
+stand with the friends of Jesus, and from that day, her
+course was upward and onward in the Christian life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline occasionally visited New York on business, for
+she was still engaged in writing her little books&mdash;entirely
+separated from the gay world, not only by her mourning
+dress, but by deliberate choice, she was only found in the
+domestic circles of intimate friends.  She was still annoyed
+by the public attentions of Henry Castleton, for personal
+vanity had made him blind to the positive aversion of his
+cousin Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lavinia is now on a visit to New York, and is spending
+an evening at Helen Thornly's, in company with a few
+friends, among whom is Henry Castleton.  The
+conversation turns upon a party where the two had met.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Really!" said Lavinia, with a toss of her proud head,
+"go where you will, one must meet with the parvenues of
+society; did you observe that Miss Digby dressed out in
+her diamonds and point lace, for such a small social party?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes," replied Harry, "I could scarcely restrain a smile,
+when I was introduced to her; who is she, Miss Raymond?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She is the daughter of old Digby, the great confectioner;
+he has retired from business, and lives in grand
+style, with his carriages, and his town and country house;
+but you can see the vulgarity of the people, for who but a
+Digby would ever have thought of diamonds at such a
+party?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And who was that little Miss Austin?  I mean the one
+dressed in simple white, seated in the corner?" asked
+Lavinia.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I don't know," was Harry's reply, "but she was evidently
+a lady; so quiet! so refined! with such a low sweet
+voice, and dressed in such excellent taste&mdash;did you observe
+how much attention was paid to her?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, I wonder who she is; the Browns, the Starrs,
+and the Carsons were very polite to her; and you know
+that they are really our first people; she must be
+somebody, for she had such a distinguished air."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Helen let them run on with their folly, and then quietly
+remarked with a meaning smile,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Miss Austin is a governess in the family of the lady
+whom you were visiting; her father was a sea-captain, and
+her mother conducted a young ladies' school for many
+years; indeed, until her death; her daughter, who is highly
+accomplished, is obliged to earn her own living&mdash;she is a
+lady of great worth and intelligence, and, happily, is with
+a family who knows how to value such gifts."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Helen and Madeline were both amused at the disconcerted
+expression upon the faces of Harry and Lavinia.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Really!" said the latter; "I never was more mistaken
+in all my life, for I took her for a lady of high rank."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What are we coming to?" responded Harry, "when
+the daughters of confectioners and teachers can aspire to
+mingle with the best circles?  I should not wonder if
+shoemakers and tailors would creep in.  Indeed, I have met
+with one who was formerly a common boot-black in society
+where <i>I</i> visit; I am amazed at his presumption, for Roland
+Bruce was nothing more."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline could restrain herself no longer&mdash;for although
+Helen tried to hold her down, she arose with dignity from
+her chair, while a crimson glow covered her whole face,
+and regardless of the presence of strangers, she said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And do you presume, Harry Castleton, to look down
+upon such persons as Miss Austin and Roland Bruce? you,
+with your empty head!" (and she tapped her pretty
+head with unconscious scorn,) "and they with their noble
+character, and brilliant powers of intellect&mdash;I am sorry for
+you, Harry, with such a <i>pretty little figure!</i> and such a
+<i>paltry little soul</i>!  Will it ever grow beyond a pigmy's?
+Roland Bruce will shine among the great and good, when
+you are entirely forgotten."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Harry withered beneath her rebuke; and even Lavinia,
+whose lip curled in contempt, for the moment looked
+awe-struck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline stood with her back to the door, facing the
+glass; she was too much excited to look forward, or she
+would have seen the figure of Roland standing irresolute at
+the door, for he had heard all; and stood, not knowing
+whether to advance or retire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a picture for an artist, as he appeared listening to
+the impassioned words bursting from the lips of Madeline
+Hamilton.  Roland towering above all present in height,
+with his broad expansive brow, on which sat enthroned a
+lofty intellect, the signet of true nobility; his fine dark eye,
+and firm, but sweetly expressive, mouth, his cheek glowing
+with the feelings of the moment; and Madeline, in all her
+youthful grace and beauty, with cheek suffused, and
+burning eye, her hand extended towards Harry Castleton, who
+durst not raise his eyes to hers&mdash;the room was silent&mdash;suddenly
+Madeline raised her eyes, and in the mirror opposite
+she saw the figure of Roland standing behind her, and
+covering her blushing face with her hands, she sat down,
+overwhelmed with shame.  Roland advanced, with great
+dignity, towards Helen Thornly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will you favor us with some music, Miss Helen?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She advanced, glad to break the painful silence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland did not, for some minutes, approach Madeline;
+he understood her feelings, and spared her the pain of
+drawing any further notice towards the sorely mortified
+girl.  When a suitable opportunity offered, he quietly took
+his seat by her side; he saw that she was suffering, for
+whenever she raised her eyes, they were moistened with
+tears, and her lips trembling with emotion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do not distress yourself, Madeline," whispered the
+young man, "be calm if you can; if you cannot, I will lead
+you to the other room."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't speak to me, Roland, I an ashamed of myself;
+such a burst of passion in this public place!  I wish I were
+in my room; I am not fit to meet this provoking young
+man."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I thank you for the generous defence; but another time,
+Madeline, I will say more to you about it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You despise me, Roland, I know that you do; for I
+despise myself."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Despise that warm and generous heart, Madeline!
+Never! do not entertain the thought for one moment; but
+I must leave you now; we are too much observed.  I will
+call to-morrow, if you will walk with me to the Battery."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Crossing to another part of the room, he found himself
+near Lavinia Raymond, and bowed politely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Miss Thornly sings well, does she not, Miss Raymond?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lavinia looked surprised, as though not acquainted with
+the gentleman, and made no answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Her voice is very sweet, and she sings with much
+feeling," he continued.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Miss Raymond deliberately turned her back, murmuring,
+"Impertinent!" and crossed to the other side of the
+room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland smiled, for Madeline's warm and generous defence
+had filled his heart with secret rapture, although he
+could have wished that it had not drawn upon her so much
+notice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The evening passed unpleasantly, for Madeline's mortification
+and self-reproach were too deep to be easily forgotten;
+she had exposed herself in the presence of so many
+witnesses, had given way to an unchristian burst of temper,
+publicly wounded a cousin whom she should have tried to
+benefit, and, she was sure, must have lost the respect of
+Roland Bruce.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland's quiet dignity of manner had won for him golden
+opinions, and Harry had failed again in humbling the man
+whom he both feared and hated.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lavinia was again disappointed; for the company generally
+had treated the one with marked distinction, the other
+with entire forgetfulness and contempt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Late in the afternoon of the next day Roland called;
+Madeline was ready, but shy, reserved, abashed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They walked almost in silence until they reached the
+Battery; then seating themselves under the shade, Roland
+addressed the mortified girl,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is the matter, Madeline? you seem so silent; are
+you displeased with me?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No; not with you, but with myself; I thought that I
+had learned to control my impulsive temper, Roland; but
+I find that I have made no progress.  I own that I was
+all wrong yesterday, but I have done the same before; and
+on the first provocation, I am tempted, and overcome
+again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your motive, Madeline, was noble; and, as Miss Austin
+was not present to defend herself, it was generous in
+you to be her champion."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline looked her thanks to Roland, for she saw how
+he was trying to reconcile her to herself, and understood
+the delicacy with which he approached the subject.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For myself, Madeline," and he spoke in lower tones,
+"you were always the same noble, frank, and generous
+friend; but you will allow me also the privilege of a friend;
+you know I have always laid a gentle rein upon your neck,
+Madeline; and you formerly yielded to the friendly check;
+may I still do the same?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Say all that you think, Roland, fully, freely, as you used
+to do; only don't excuse me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I wish that you would learn to restrain those open
+expressions of your feelings; they make you enemies, and they
+are not in accordance with the spirit of the Gospel."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know it, Roland; I am so glad that you do not praise
+me; I should not respect you if you did; but how am I to
+become meek and lowly?  I, passionate! proud! wilful
+Madeline?  I want to be humble, I long to be holy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland took the little hand gently, kindly, as of old, and
+held it between his own; bending his eyes upon the
+ground, he repeated, "'Come, learn of me, for I am meek
+and lowly in heart, and you shall find rest unto your
+soul.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How, Roland, can I learn of Jesus?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sit at his feet every day, Madeline; study his holy
+character, pray for his blessed spirit; you have trusted him
+with the justification of the immortal soul; trust him also
+in the work of sanctification; he is the author of both; of
+the former by himself; of the latter by his spirit."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She bowed her head, and wept.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O, Roland! sometimes I fear that I am not among the
+justified ones; if I were, would not the fruits be more
+manifest?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have you any hope of Heaven apart from Jesus, Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, Roland, 'Jesus only,'" and this she said with
+deepest feeling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is faith, Madeline, and it is faith that justifies;
+this faith works godly sorrow for sin, earnest longing for
+holiness, deep humiliation; do you not experience these?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline looked up through her tears with such a smile
+of hope&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Roland, ever since yesterday I have been in the
+dust, repenting of my sin, and longing, praying for holiness;
+and then I am so sorry for Harry Castleton; I wounded
+him so deeply, I behaved so shamefully."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland, looked upon the weeping girl, almost with the
+feelings of a parent towards a child; there certainly was
+compassionate tenderness in his face, and lowly reverence
+in that of Madeline, as he laid his hand in blessing upon
+the drooping head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am going to ask Harry's pardon, Roland; I cannot
+be happy until I do; and then, by God's help, I will never
+be unkind to him again; he is not gifted like some others,
+and it was mean to reproach him with it; I know that he
+has always loved me, and I ought to be grateful; is it not
+strange that it makes me so angry, when it is not so
+with some others&mdash;I wonder why it is, Roland?" and the
+artless look with which she uttered these innocent words,
+caused a smile to pass over his face, for she was a child in
+some things yet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is not this pleasant talk? just like 'Auld Lang Syne,'
+Roland, when you used to lecture little Mad-cap, and when
+she used to like the lectures so much better than other
+people's praises."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, it is too pleasant, Madeline; I wonder if you have
+cherished the mementoes of those childish days as I
+have? do you know this handkerchief, Madeline?" and Roland
+took out of his pocket a soiled cambric handkerchief, stained
+with blood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She looked at him with great surprise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, where did you get that dirty handkerchief?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't you remember the first day that we met upon the
+shore, that you wiped my face with your handkerchief?  I
+have kept it ever since, and would never have it washed;
+to-day I was looking among some old relics, and put it in
+my pocket, intending to place it again among my treasures."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline blushed as she looked at the handkerchief, and
+smiling, she said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They were very happy days; what a merry child I
+was! so spoiled! so wilful!  I wonder if I am any better
+now."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You were a very charming child, Madeline, and I never
+can forget the little friend of the sea-shore.  Here is another
+relic!" and he held up a lock of golden hair, which she had
+given him in those childish days.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Were we not very happy, Roland? now I am so much
+older&mdash;we have both seen sorrow, you the most; and I too
+have tasted of the cup&mdash;and now it is so solemn to live,
+Roland, to have the charge of so much property, and to be
+responsible as a steward for all that God has given to me.
+Papa told me that I might choose my own guardian; I have
+no male relations, and no one but you&mdash;will you not take
+charge of my estate, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is a great responsibility, but I cannot well decline
+it; I shall be but too happy if I can serve you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I want some one to teach me how to take care of it,
+and how to use it for the good of my fellow-creatures.  I
+saw such a beautiful example in the Countess of N&mdash;&mdash;
+and her noble husband; they seemed just to live to do good
+to their own family, and the people all around them.  I
+have commenced my little school again, and it is growing
+fast; I shall soon want a teacher; then I must have a
+reading-room for the factory-men, a missionary for the
+neighborhood, and, after a while, a dear little church of my
+own."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland listened to the young enthusiast with a glowing
+heart, for she was running on with a smiling face, and such
+an earnest, happy expression.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The tears were gone&mdash;April had passed, and smiling
+May fanned its breezes around the two, as they sat under
+those shady trees.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was playing with a sprig of hearts'-ease while she
+was talking.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What a sweet flower you have, Madeline!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, it is one of my favorites; I have so many at
+Woodcliff."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Won't you give it to me, Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What! my hearts'-ease, Roland!  There, take it; I wish
+it were not so faded."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Placing it in a button-hole of his coat, he smiled as he said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is an emblem of yourself, Madeline, or what you
+used to be&mdash;my own little hearts'-ease."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, truly!  Roland Bruce paying compliments!  Take
+care, good sir; don't become a flatterer."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I speak truth, Madeline; but let us talk a little more
+about this trust that you wish me to undertake&mdash;are you
+very careful about your accounts, Madeline? you should
+make a regular entry of every day's expenditure, calculate
+your income, put apart so much for your charities, and so
+much for your daily wants&mdash;but never run into debt."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline began to smile.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, good sir! it seems so funny for little Mad-cap to
+be sitting here listening to a lecture from her guardian,
+little Roland of the Maple Lane School&mdash;you are getting
+on pretty fast, I think, and it will not be long before we
+hear that eloquent speech that I have so often talked
+about."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was suddenly depressed; for when he looked
+upon the young heiress of so large an estate, and himself,
+her guardian, he felt more than ever repelled from thoughts
+that would sometimes rise up in his heart with visions of
+domestic bliss.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was so much of artless, tender interest in Madeline's
+manners, that often the thought would cause a thrill
+of rapture as hope whispered, "She loves me, this peerless
+child of Nature! this fresh, guileless young heart!  But
+it cannot be&mdash;be silent, foolish heart!  But it is a joy to
+guide, to counsel, to comfort, even to hear her voice," and
+gradually he sank into silence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline's spirits were gay&mdash;taking Roland's arm, they
+walked home quietly together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It had been a happy hour!  But Roland awoke as from
+a dream, when Madeline named her property; with that,
+came the incubus that always lay as a shadow between
+him and his darling's warm young heart.  Chilled by its icy
+breath, he remained quiet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why are you so silent, my good sir?" inquired
+Madeline; "it seems that you have left all your spirits at the
+Battery."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was looking some very painful thoughts right in the
+face, Madeline; there are some things that I must get
+accustomed to, but it is not an easy task."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can I help you, Roland?" and she turned a kindly look
+upon his troubled face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"<i>You</i>, help me, Madeline!  No&mdash;it is beyond your power,"
+and he looked deeply pained.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is nothing, Roland, that I would not do, to lighten
+your cares, if I only knew what they were."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Never mind, my good little friend, there is a refuge for
+every care; I have tried it very often, and it has never
+failed&mdash;no, not once."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By this time, they had reached the door of Madeline's
+stopping-place.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good evening, Madeline, God bless you!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall see you to-morrow, Roland&mdash;shall I not?  I will
+then tell you all about Harry."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, I will see you,"&mdash;and Roland turned away to kiss
+the sweet little bunch of hearts'-ease, murmuring, "not for
+me! would that she were penniless;" while Madeline went
+up-stairs, humming a low, soft tune, as she whispered,
+"What a dear, kind guardian!"  Would she have echoed
+Roland's wish, had she known this to be the only barrier
+between two pure young, loving hearts?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+True to her sense of right, she sent a short note without
+delay to Harry Castleton, requesting the favor of an early
+call next morning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Harry loved Madeline as much as his weak nature would
+allow him to love any one beside himself, and had borne
+much contempt from her even meekly; therefore, he obeyed
+the summons, wondering what change had come over his
+proud cousin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I sent for you, Harry, to apologize for my conduct; I am
+heartily ashamed of it&mdash;it was unwomanly, unchristian,
+and uncalled for.  I hope, Cousin Harry, that you will
+forgive me; you know what a proud, high temper I have, and
+must attribute all that I said to that infirmity."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Harry looked amazed&mdash;he had never before seen Madeline
+so humble herself to any body, and he wondered what
+it really could mean.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was to blame too, Madeline; I know how my speeches
+provoke you, and I believe that I uttered them for that
+very purpose.  I receive your apology freely, I hope that
+you will accept mine.  I cannot help my feelings about
+Roland Bruce, for I do believe that it is he only that
+prevents your return of my warm affection."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline bit her lip, for hasty words were coming again,
+but she restrained them, and replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are mistaken, Harry, I feel for you the interest
+of a cousin; nothing else could possibly be entertained;
+but you will never have to complain again of unkind
+conduct at my hands; I have been too deeply humbled.  I do
+wish you well, cousin Harry; I would like to see you
+caring more for better things; then at least, you would
+have my respect."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline, if you had always been thus kind, I might
+have been a better man; your scorn has embittered me;
+but words like these soften my heart, and waken better
+feelings, even in vain and trifling Harry Castleton."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They spent an hour in friendly conversation, and Madeline
+was greatly relieved, when she parted amicably from
+her cousin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A familiar step soon followed upon Harry's departure,
+and Madeline, with her own mischievous smile, said,&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, Roland, have I not been a good girl?  I made an
+humble apology to Harry, for all my naughty ways, and I
+think that my venerable guardian must be satisfied with his
+protégé."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland smiled, and answered,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Follow out your own convictions of right at once,
+Madeline, as you have done in this case, and you will not go
+very far astray."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I would have done the same willingly before all that
+room full, Roland, that they might have known how heartily
+ashamed I was?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland looked upon this fascinating combination of innocent,
+frank child-nature with true earnest womanhood, and
+felt convinced that the world would never spoil this fresh
+young soul.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You look very sad, to-day, good sir; has any thing
+happened to distress you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nothing now, Madeline; I have only had to tame down
+some wild, ungoverned fancies."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here are some of my papers ready for my sage
+guardian; when I get home, I will send the rest."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland winced again; for this bundle of parchment reminded
+him of the night's sore struggle&mdash;he could not now
+see Madeline with the mere regard of a true friend, for the
+silent hours of midnight communion had fully revealed the
+state of his heart.
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap28"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+<br><br>
+SEAWEED.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+The witcheries of the world were rapidly losing their
+power over Madeline Hamilton&mdash;but Nature, calm, beautiful,
+bright, became more dear, more elevating to her child&mdash;for
+had she not always been her nursing-mother even
+from earliest childish days?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was perfect harmony between the fresh guileless
+nature and the green trees, the smiling sky, the deep blue
+ocean, and the sweet voices among which she rambled;
+and deeper, fuller than ever was the joy swelling in her
+young heart, when she could look upward and say, "My
+Father made them all."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From the deep fountains of her new nature gushed out
+streams of love, for all that God had made; for the more
+that she loved God, the truer, and more spiritual became
+her love for her fellow-men.  Then the intimate relations
+between herself and Roland, the dear companionship,
+the old feelings of perfect trust and reverence, and the
+tender interest which enveloped her in such a mantle of
+protection, dwelt with her daily; and neither needed words
+to tell how truly they were one, nor with what unconscious,
+mysterious knowledge, they had read each other's hearts.
+Roland could not but feel "she loves me," and Madeline
+needed no language to make her understand how precious
+was the sacred bond which united their warm young
+hearts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The little children that assembled around her still in her
+Saturday-school, and her class on Sunday, all felt the sweet
+attraction&mdash;the dwellers at the cottages, Aunt Matilda, and
+the people in the kitchen, all realized that a warmer glow
+of love kindled in the young face, and sweeter words were
+breathed from her lips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline was really living&mdash;for the heart had found objects
+on which to bestow its benevolence, and the feeling, day by
+day, was deepening, widening, as she felt truly "Jesus loves
+me, and I love him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As the guardian of her worldly concerns, she received
+frequent letters from Roland, full of kind advice and
+strengthening words.  He had laid down for her a plan
+which she was eager to carry out, and it was a pretty
+picture to see the young girl with her little basket of books,
+tracts, and domestic comforts, sallying forth daily among
+her humble dependents.  Hours for devotion, household
+cares, for reading, music, for exercise, for benevolence, were
+systematically arranged, and as carefully carried out; and
+while Aunt Matilda was yawning over want of occupation,
+and imagining headaches, indigestion, and countless other
+evils, Madeline scarcely found time for her numerous
+duties.  She was very happy; for even while she missed
+the smile of her dear father's approval, was she not blessed
+with the assurance of his unspeakable gain? and did she
+not hope to join him at last in the better world, to part no
+more forever?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her cheek bloomed with brighter tints, her eye beamed
+with holier love, and her lips told tales of sweet inward
+peace and joy, drawn from the deep wells of salvation.  She
+was learning some of Mozart's and Beethoven's finest
+music on her harp, and some sacred melodies for her voice;
+for she knew the style that pleased Roland, and was
+scarcely aware how all her occupations were mingled with
+the name of that precious friend.  Sometimes, doubts and
+difficulties would obtrude themselves when reading the
+Scriptures, and then she would wish for her faithful guide.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Get Mr. Bruce's room ready, Mary," said Madeline to
+the chambermaid; "he will here to-morrow," and she spent
+much of her time in preparations for the welcome visitor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Matilda found that although her niece treated her
+with respect and affection, in the choice of her guardian
+she had exercised the liberty which her father had given
+her, and the good lady had quietly to submit.  The respectful
+reverence with which Roland treated Madeline's aunt
+almost disarmed her opposition to this intimacy, and would
+have done so entirely, could she have divested herself of
+the fear that Roland might some day be more than guardian.
+After tea, Madeline led Roland to the drawing-room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have learned some new music just for you, guardian,"
+and she played some of her finest pieces with exquisite
+taste and execution.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How can people like polkas and waltzes after such
+music as this?" said Roland; "it seems to speak so truly
+the language of the soul."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have some beautiful sacred melodies, and I want you
+to learn them to sing with me, guardian, your voice is so
+good."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was amusing to see Madeline assume the office of
+teacher, and when he would make mistakes, with an arch
+expression around her mouth, to hear her say&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What a dumb scholar! don't you see that you are singing
+the wrong note?  I am so glad that there is something
+I can do better than you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a laughing lesson, with Roland's blunders, and
+Madeline's pretended reproofs, and the pat of the little
+hand on his head when he succeeded.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't be affronted, guardian, for I really do entertain
+a profound respect for you, though not much wholesome
+fear; that is rather out of my sphere, good sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After sundry trials, they succeeded admirably, and
+Madeline's sweet treble, with Roland's rich tenor voice,
+made truly delightful music.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's a good boy, Roland! you shall have a treat for
+your performance," and Madeline ordered a <i>tête-a-tête</i>
+supper before retiring, with just such viands as Roland
+liked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Shall I see you to-morrow in the library, Madeline?"
+was Roland's request, as he bade "good-night."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, at nine o'clock; I shall be occupied until that
+time."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A full hour was spent in transacting some business
+attendant upon his office, and, at the close, Madeline, with
+a sweet, serious face, seated herself on a lower seat by the
+side of her guardian.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have wanted you lately, Roland, I have been so
+troubled when reading the Scriptures; I don't know what
+can be the matter, but my mind has been so disturbed by
+doubts and difficulties, that they have clouded my peace,
+and perplexed me so much."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are they connected with your duties, Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, Roland; they are about deep, inscrutable mysteries
+that I cannot understand," and Madeline, from a full
+heart, poured out all her tale of doubts and trials into the
+ears of one ever ready and able to counsel and aid her
+trembling steps.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On Sunday morning, Roland accompanied Madeline,
+opened the services of the Sunday-school, and aided in
+teaching; in the afternoon, by the side of his young friend,
+and using the same book, he joined in the beautiful service
+which she loved, for he had outlived the prejudices of his
+childhood, and had learned to love goodness and truth
+wherever he saw it, or under whatever garb, and could now
+easily make allowances for the deep aversion of those days
+of persecution to the rigid ritualism which laid such heavy
+burdens upon the consciences of Christian men.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While he remained at Woodcliff, one hour each morning
+was spent in studying the word of God, and his clear
+explanations greatly aided the young believer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is a pleasant evening, Madeline; shall we walk
+down to the shore?  I must see the dear spot before I
+return to New York."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Wait a minute, Roland, I must get my hood and scarf;
+it is a little damp.  Old Peter will be glad to see us, and
+I have something for him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So have I," answered Roland.  "He must be growing
+very old, for he was an aged man when we first came to
+Woodcliff, and that is seventeen years ago; I am now
+twenty-six."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And I twenty-one; and yet, Roland, I do not feel
+more than sixteen; I enjoy life as much as then, and I have
+just the same faith in goodness as I had at that age."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They soon found themselves at the dear trysting place,
+and, seated on the rock, they gazed in silence upon the
+grand old ocean.  Madeline was the first to speak.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Does it seem possible, Roland, that eleven years have
+passed since you stood there," pointing to a spot near
+them, "defending the poor little things who had lost their
+diamonds?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And yet, Madeline, if we measure time by events,
+what a long life mine would seem!  So full of trial, of
+blessing, and of stirring incident!  What finger-posts of
+Providence have marked my way!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How strange are its wondrous dealings, Roland!  I
+ran down to the shore that evening with my dog Hector,
+just for a merry race and a wild romp with my good old
+playmate, and I found you&mdash;then a poor, threadbare boy,
+with a grand and noble soul&mdash;be still, Roland" (for he was
+about to speak), "I felt what was hidden under your
+worn-out jacket, child that I was; and I found such a
+friend! eternity only will reveal what you have been to
+wild, impulsive Madeline;" turning, with her young face
+all glowing, she added, "I fought your battles then, Roland,
+and I have done so ever since, for my childish instincts
+read truly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There are some scenes, Madeline, written upon the
+tablets of memory with a diamond pen, and that afternoon
+was one; the face of the bright child, with her generous
+impulses and her scorn of meanness, the stained handkerchief,
+and the tender touch of the dimpled hand have been
+with me ever since; to this have been added the bright,
+wild, untamed intellect that interested me in Maple Lane
+School, the docile pupil coming to me with such winning
+grace.  I see the folded hands and downcast eyes even
+now; the mischievous little sprite that loved bewitching
+pranks; the gay young girl who, amid all the blandishments
+of wealth, still nobly cheering my way; the riper
+woman, with her noble heart, at last bowing at the foot of
+the cross, and pouring out its love on all around her.
+These, Madeline, have been with me always&mdash;cheering,
+blessing, soothing."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"All this, Roland, under the leading hand of a wondrous
+Providence, you have done; sometimes I was led away,
+but for what a short period!  These early lessons are never
+forgotten; and even in England, where I was surrounded
+by so much more to tempt, my heart, true as the needle to
+the pole, turned back with all its freshness to those early
+memories and their teachings."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland sat in silence for a moment, his heart filled with
+unutterable love&mdash;could it be duty to throw from him this
+gem of priceless worth, this young, warm, guileless woman's
+heart? and yet as a flash darted through his brain, the
+thought that would obtrude&mdash;as her guardian, acquainted
+with the extent of her possessions, might he not be thought
+selfish, mercenary?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And now you see, good sir, you are my grave and
+reverend guardian, and must know all about your ward,"
+and Madeline flashed upon him one of her arch glances of
+mischief; "if a young lady has offers of marriage, I suppose
+that she ought to tell her guardian&mdash;is not that so?"
+and she continued, smiling, "and always ask his advice
+about such matters, for I have something of the kind to
+tell now."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland dropped his eyes, and moved away from the
+young lady, lest she should see his emotion, and replied
+seriously, "I shall always be interested in whatever
+concerns you, Madeline, and will advise here, as elsewhere,
+truly, faithfully."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well!  to begin&mdash;Harry Castleton is one of my devoted&mdash;he
+has offered himself three times, and has as often been
+refused; for you know, guardian, that I could never love
+him, but I am going to treat him better; I have made a
+good beginning; what do you think of him for Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Think, Madeline!  I should never cease to mourn over
+such a union&mdash;it could never be."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Amen!" said Madeline, archly; "and then there was
+Mr. Livingston, of New York, that all the belles were
+dying for; a man of wealth, rank, fashion, and intelligence;
+not caring much for the gay world&mdash;what do you think of
+him?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Did you love him, Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No&mdash;not exactly; and I used to think it was very
+strange! he was so handsome and attractive! but what do
+you say about him?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I could not approve of him either."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, guardian! you are grim, and hard to please&mdash;well! then
+there was Tony Willikins; poor Tony! when I
+was a wild young thing, I took a ride with Tony, and he
+asked me about his future establishment; about his house,
+his carriage, his grounds, his furniture; and I gave my
+opinion&mdash;well, to be sure! he built just such a house,
+ordered just such a carriage, and then came, and asked me
+to live in his house, and ride in his carriage.  I almost
+laughed in his face; and when I refused, he said that I had
+encouraged him, because I described the house, and
+recommended the carriage; I did not think that he was quite
+such a dunce, but I really felt sorry for Tony; I did not
+mean any harm&mdash;now, guardian, what do you think of
+Tony Willikins?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland smiled at the story, and replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I should object no more to this poor fellow with weak
+intellect, and affectionate heart, than I would to a rich
+brainless fop, without a heart."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When I went to England," and Madeline's face assumed
+a more serious, tender expression, "I was introduced
+to the family of the Earl of N&mdash;&mdash;; it was all that a
+Christian family ought to be, and there I spent some of the
+happiest hours of my life.  I was domesticated in that
+household for many weeks, and became much attached to
+Lady Alice, the eldest daughter.  Lord N&mdash;&mdash;, the eldest
+son, was a bright example of a young English noble;
+refined, intelligent, pious, and of an extremely prepossessing
+appearance; we were associated daily; Roland, he learned
+to love me with all the depth and tenderness of a true,
+manly nature.  I never knew an hour of deeper sorrow,
+than when compelled to say to that outburst of a warm
+affection, 'only friendship can I return;' now, guardian,
+what would you think of him?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were sitting very near the edge of the shore, and
+as the waves washed up the sea-weed, Roland took up a
+bunch, and handing it to Madeline, said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You remember these flowers of the ocean&mdash;how often
+have I gathered them for you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Remember them!" and Madeline opened a small pocket-book,
+from which she took a few faded weeds, "Ah! how
+often have these memorials spoken to me, Roland; once I
+placed them by the side of the splendid bouquet, that Lord
+N&mdash;&mdash; used to send me daily&mdash;and oh! the difference."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O, Madeline! dare I hope that the giver of these faded
+weeds was dearer than Lord N&mdash;&mdash;, with all his grandeur
+and his goodness?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline turned her deep expressive eyes upon Roland's
+face, as she replied, in trembling tones,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nothing else could have made me insensible to the
+worth of Lord Alfred N&mdash;&mdash;; these faded weeds, the
+sea-shells, the sketch I found once in the library, were more
+precious to me, more fondly cherished, than all the gifts of gold
+that have ever been laid at my feet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can such blessedness be mine? the wealth of such a
+heart?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And mine, dear Roland! it seems too much of earthly
+good to know that you are all my own, not only as my
+friend, but my dearest, truest love."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And can you, with all your wealth and attractions,
+turn from so much, and give your heart to me?  I have
+not much to offer, Madeline; it is true that my dear friend,
+Uncle Malcolm, placed me above the reach of need, but
+nothing compared to the heiress of Woodcliff; I fear the
+judgment of your aunt; would that you were penniless."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I want nothing but yourself, Roland; only your pure
+and noble self; have we not loved each other always? and
+yet there was a time when I was afraid of Helen
+Thornly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And when I was afraid of Lord N&mdash;&mdash;; for I saw his
+worth, and his attractions, Madeline; and knew that you
+were with him daily while I was absent."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What would your father think of such a choice, Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He was willing, in such a matter, to trust his daughter;
+dear, noble father! he respected you, Roland, always;
+and I believe, if he were living, he would smile upon us."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look at me, darling!" said Roland, "let me see those
+dear eyes, those truthful, earnest eyes, just turned on me,
+as full of love and tenderness as in days gone by;" (for
+Madeline had dropped her head, and bent her eyes upon
+the ground.)
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She raised them to Roland's face, and in the deep look
+of perfect trust and tenderness, he saw what that hour had
+revealed to him.  Taking both hands within his own, and
+looking up to heaven, he prayed that God would bless this
+sweet union of two young souls that had been so long as
+one.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is a love, Madeline, which will stretch forward to
+eternity; it will be companionship on earth in all that is
+pure and holy, to be perfected in the world above."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One sweet, pure caress, one fond kiss sealed this heart
+union; and taking her arm within his own, they turned
+their steps homeward.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Let us just listen for one moment to the music of the
+ocean, Roland; it is a grand old organ, with its deep,
+mysterious chords; it has murmured many solemn hymns for
+us, many a varied melody&mdash;sometimes gentle summer
+lullabies, sometimes wails like funeral dirges&mdash;what does it
+waft us to-night?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nothing but soft, sweet hymns of harmony, Maddy;
+bidding us praise our Father and our God."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Old Peter had been watching the young people, in
+whom he was so much interested; he saw the deep-absorbing
+interest of that interview; the tender caress, and
+the slow step as they moved away, and he said to
+himself,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is just what I thought would come of hoarding up
+old shoes.  God bless them! they are a dear young pair,
+and deserve to be happy.  What a handsome couple they
+will make!  And they are both so good!  It puts me in
+mind of Becky and me in our young days," and the old
+man wiped a moistened eye with his rough coat-sleeve.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Tea was long over when they reached home, but they
+wanted no supper; and Aunt Matilda was out of patience
+at the monosyllables which she received as answers, for
+both seemed wholly engrossed with each other.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Let us go to the library," whispered Madeline; and as
+they stood before the portrait of her father it seemed to
+look upon them, with all the benignity of expression that
+dwelt upon the face of Mr. Hamilton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It smiles upon us, Roland! does it not?  I know my
+dear father too well not to be assured that he would bless
+us; let us kneel before his picture;" and as they bowed
+solemnly in the library, Roland poured out his heart in
+earnest, fervent prayer, for God's choicest blessings upon
+them both.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After an evening spent in happy converse, the hour of
+separation came too soon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Let us listen to the Eolian to-night, Roland;" and Madeline
+led him to the stair-case; standing there together, it
+discoursed soft, sweet strains, for the evening was balmy
+and pleasant, and the wind fanned gentle breezes among
+the foliage of Woodcliff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How soft! how sweet, Roland, the harp is to-night! it
+seems to breathe only of happiness and peace; sometimes
+it has been so wild, so sad, when I have been in trouble!
+I wonder if it does not just echo the voice within."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Doubtless it is so, Madeline; to-night the serenade is
+very sweet; if the fairies play among the strings, they
+must know all about us, dear."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is a pretty fancy, and cannot harm us, Roland; I
+don't believe it, you know; but then there are many things
+I don't believe which it is pleasant to think about."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You must be careful, dear, in these flights of fancy, that
+they do not depart from truth."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well then, Roland, we will banish the fairies, though
+they were long the friends of my childhood, and substitute
+the good, real angels, and think that the sweet music is
+mingled with theirs."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-night, Madeline, may they guard your slumbers;"
+and Roland clasped the little hand fondly, and impressed
+the kiss of pure affection upon the fair young brow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline's dreams were pure and holy that night, for
+was she not the chosen companion of the man whom she
+most loved and honored on earth?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next morning, she acquainted her aunt with what had
+taken place.  She was not surprised, but deeply
+disappointed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I cannot understand you, Madeline, to reject such a
+man as Lord N&mdash;&mdash;, and to choose one so low-born, so
+obscure as Roland Bruce; but you must have your own way;
+you were always a wilful child!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will learn to think differently some day, aunty;
+when you know Roland, you will find out true nobility."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Next Sunday will be our communion day, Roland; you
+will stay, can't you?" said Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will try; by writing a few lines, I can be spared that
+long."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There were but few as yet gathered into that little fold;
+but it was a blessed hour, when the two bowed together at
+the table of their Master, and consecrated their united lives
+to his holy service.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There had been a parlor organ hired for their little church,
+and as they together joined in the high praises of the
+Trisagion, their spirits seemed to soar beyond the things of time
+and sense, and to prostrate themselves together before the
+throne of God and the Lamb.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is living," said Roland, as they walked homeward
+together; "loving God supremely, and each other fondly,
+for Jesus' sake, with the sweet hope of eternal union, when
+the cares and sorrows of life are ended; this is living,
+Madeline.  God is love, and is best pleased when his creatures
+are most like him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I used to think, Roland, that it was a sin for mortals
+to love each other, and it once troubled me sorely, when I
+began to think of becoming a Christian."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Just study the life of Christ, dear, and the teachings
+of the disciple whom Jesus loved the best, the loving John;
+his epistles are full of heavenly love, and you will never
+make that mistake again; for remember, that he teaches
+the duty of the highest exercise of Christian love, when
+he says, 'That we ought to lay down our lives for the
+heathen.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How that view draws us to the blessed Saviour!  How
+different from the teachings of those who would represent
+God as seated far away, upon the throne of the Universe,
+forbidding the approach of his erring children."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Always think of God, Madeline, as a loving Father,
+whom you may always approach to plead the merits of his
+Son; he is ever ready to look upon you graciously in the
+face of Jesus, our Redeemer."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What precious hopes, dear Roland, does the gospel
+hold out to us! union with Christ forever, and intimate
+soul-union with each other in a world where there can be
+no change, no parting, no decay."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Let us bless him, dearest Madeline, for these holy
+hopes, and show that we love him, by lives devoted to his
+service; by-the-bye, do you know that I begin to like your
+service better than our own? so much that is sublime is
+taught by its offices.  It seems to be an echo of the voice
+within.  How lofty is the language of the Trisagion!  I
+could almost have imagined the worship of the spirits
+before the throne, crying 'Holy!  Holy!  Holy!' and could look
+forward to that time, when, as disembodied spirits, we shall
+join with those who have gone before; with patriarchs, and
+prophets; with martyrs, and apostles; with 'the spirits of
+the just made perfect;' with my mother, Effie, and your
+own dear father, in praising the God who has brought us
+safely home."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am glad that you feel so, Roland, for I have decided
+preferences for my own forms of worship; though I can
+hold communion with Christians of every name, who truly
+love my Master."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Monday morning came, and with it, return to daily cares
+and duties.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline, I brought old Peter a warm over-coat for
+winter, one that I have done with; I forgot to say
+anything about it that evening;" and Roland smiled.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And I forgot a Bible with large print, and a pair of good
+spectacles; I had them with me, but I forgot them too."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hope that we may be excused this time, Madeline;
+our hearts were engrossed by each other.  Farewell,
+dearest, write daily," continued Roland, "or rather keep a
+journal, and send it to me twice a week; I want to know
+everything about you, where you go; all that you think and
+feel are precious to me now."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline blushed rosy red, as she found herself folded in
+a warm embrace, and returned modestly the kiss of
+affection which was pressed upon her lips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Pray for me, Roland, every day and every night; we
+can meet there, dearest;" and Madeline stood upon the
+piazza watching him as long as she could see him, and
+returned the wave of the hand, ere she retraced her steps
+back to the library.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Letters from Lady Alice had just reached Woodcliff; for
+Madeline had been in constant correspondence with her
+valued English friends.  They were particularly welcome,
+for in one was announced the approaching marriage of Lady
+Alice to Lord Elmore, and several hints about Lady Lucy
+Hampton and her brother Alfred; concluding with a warm
+invitation to make a bridal visit to England.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On Roland's next visit, he brought a warm letter from
+good Uncle Malcolm, congratulating him on his prospects
+of domestic happiness, and insisting on a visit immediately
+after his marriage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do not think it at all improbable, Madeline, for I have
+business which calls me to Scotland," said the young man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Bruce was expected daily, and Madeline obtained a
+promise that his first visit in America should be to
+Woodcliff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a few days he landed at New York, and met with a
+warm welcome from his son.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are you really glad to see me, Roland?" asked the
+poor man, as he looked up in his face with a sad, wistful
+expression.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am really glad, my father; I have a carriage ready
+for you, and bright, pleasant rooms."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No pains were spared to make him happy, and under the
+wise, affectionate treatment of his son, Mr. Bruce really
+seemed to be losing much of that sad and moody state of
+mind which had so long afflicted him.  As soon as he could
+be prevailed upon to go, Roland took him to Woodcliff, and
+introduced him to his intended daughter-in-law.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline received him with a warm, affectionate welcome;
+and although shy at first, under the influence of her
+kind manners and sweet music, he became daily more
+social and tranquil.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After singing several hymns to please him, he walked
+up to Madeline, and laying his hand upon her head, he
+said,&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank ye, my dear, ye hae ta'en a deal o' trouble to
+please an auld mon&mdash;ye are to be my daughter, are ye na!"
+and stooping down, he pushed back the rich folds of hair,
+to look more earnestly on her sweet young face, and then
+kissed the pure, calm forehead.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will try to make you a good daughter, sir," and she
+kissed the withered hand that was held out to her.  From
+this time, quite an intimacy sprang up between the two,
+for the music had driven away the evil spirit for a time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She is vera luvely, Roland, amaist as luvely as yer
+mither was at her age&mdash;be kind to her, my boy; ne'er suspect
+yer wife; but be sure that ye hae her heart&mdash;are ye
+sure o' that, Roland!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, father, she has never loved any one else, she is all
+my own!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Happy son! happy Roland!" whispered Stephen, as he
+took his son's arm, to walk out on the piazza.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As Madeline took leave of the old man, she said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will come again, dear sir, will you not?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, my child, this hae been a pleasant visit; ye are
+guid an' kind, an' I luve ye, my daughter."
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Clara is on a visit to Woodcliff, and finds her most
+sanguine hopes realized in what she sees of Madeline's daily
+walks of usefulness, and many a time, with tearful eyes,
+exclaims,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What hath God wrought!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunt Clara, I have been thinking a great deal about
+the men here; there is a very large number among the
+factories, and in the cottages of the fishermen.  They very
+seldom come to our Sunday services, but waste their vacant
+time in lounging about idly, and in drinking what they have
+earned through the week.  I have thought of a reading-room
+where we could supply good reading for the evenings,
+and keep them away from bad company; but I don't
+know how to go about it; I cannot go among men, that
+would not be exactly feminine, and I cannot bear all the
+expense myself."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Would it not be well, Madeline, first to bring the
+matter before some of the gentlemen of the neighborhood?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is exactly the way, Aunt Clara; I'll send for
+Roland, he shall make the speech&mdash;I'll give notice in the
+Sunday-school, and then I'll send notices around to the
+principal gentlemen, to meet at the Sunday-school room."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline was full of her new plan, and put it into
+practice immediately&mdash;notifying the Sunday-school, sending
+for Roland, and canvassing the neighborhood thoroughly,
+by means of the messengers.  Ten days were allowed to
+prepare for the meeting; she talked about it in the Sunday-school
+eagerly, for the ungodliness of the men was sorely
+distressing to her benevolent spirit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland came&mdash;the evening arrived, the room was
+lighted early, and Madeline watched eagerly for an
+audience.  A few strolled in, some of the mothers of the
+children, some of the young ladies, and a few of the
+children's fathers; but this was not what Madeline wanted&mdash;it
+was nearly eight o'clock, and but two gentlemen, one
+the old minister of Roland's church, the other, a gentleman
+somewhat interested in the morals of the neighborhood.
+After a while, a half dozen more came, then three or four
+more, until about one dozen were present; at last, quite a
+party of young ladies and gentlemen took their seats, and the
+meeting commenced.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland had acquainted Mr. Stewart with the object of
+the meeting, and requested him to state it to the audience,
+and open the exercises with prayer.  Interest had brought
+but few, curiosity the larger number.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After the opening exercises, Roland arose.  His name had
+not been announced; but while he spoke, the rich, manly
+voice, and quiet dignity of manner at once enchained
+attention; and as he proceeded to describe the wants of the
+neighborhood, and the necessity of some efforts by which
+to benefit the working classes, gradually his manner
+increased in warmth; and when he alluded to the days when
+as a boy athirst for knowledge, he had sat on these benches,
+and had often longed for the use of a well-assorted library,
+there was a general buzzing among the young people.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Who can it be?" said Minnie Smith.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, don't you remember Roland Bruce?" replied
+Lizzie Belton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It cannot be possible&mdash;that elegant looking man,
+Roland Bruce! then such a speaker!  I can't believe the
+evidence of my own senses."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know his eye, Minnie, I knew him as soon as I looked
+at him&mdash;I heard the other day that he is quite a
+distinguished lawyer in New York."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, dear me! who ever could have believed it?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, Madeline Hamilton believed it&mdash;or else she never
+would have taken so much interest in him&mdash;proud minx! she
+always said that he'd be a great man yet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Let us listen, Lizzie, we are losing his speech;" and
+the young girls stopped talking, to listen to his eloquence.
+He represented the wants of the working man, said he
+had an intellect demanding food, as well as a body; that
+he had a right to both; he believed that many might be
+reclaimed and elevated, if those more favored would lend a
+helping hand, and recognise the one great fact of
+brotherhood&mdash;on this he spoke feelingly, for he had felt deeply.
+In glowing words, he enlarged upon the advantages of
+useful reading, appealed to those who employed these men;
+and asked if they would not make better workmen, more
+faithful laborers, more moral and intelligent, if conscious
+that there were hands stretched out, saying, "Come my
+brother, I will help you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All listened respectfully; and at the close, the gentlemen
+present contributed something, those of large means
+liberally, and Madeline had the pleasure of seeing her scheme
+likely to prosper.  After all had subscribed, "M. H&mdash;&mdash;"
+modestly added one hundred dollars to the list.  "Who is
+he?  Who is he?" was the question whispered all round
+when the meeting was over.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A young man by the name of Bruce, I think," was the
+reply of Mr. Belton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can tell you, gentlemen," said Mr. Stewart, his former
+minister; "he was once a boy in the Sunday-school of my
+church, and a member of Maple Lane School, very poor,
+very humble, but an excellent son, a devoted brother, an
+earnest Christian, with bright talents, all exercised for his
+Master.  He is a child of Providence, gentlemen, raised to
+what he is by a blessing upon a mother's piety and manly
+trust in God."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Several went forward, and shook him warmly by the
+hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We are proud of our Maple Lane boy, sir; your
+minister has told us something of your history."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lizzie Belton and Minnie Smith looked quite abashed,
+hiding their faces as Madeline proudly took Roland's arm,
+and left the room.  As soon as they were out of hearing,
+she exclaimed&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There, Roland, don't say that I am not a prophetess;
+I knew the day would come when you'd make these silly
+upstarts feel ashamed of themselves.  I felt proud of you
+to-night, Roland, for I saw that they were mortified as
+soon as they knew who it was.  I suppose that they would
+like to obtain the notice of Roland Bruce now."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline, is not this very much of the old leaven?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, I suppose it is, guardian; but it was in this very
+room where they used to be so mean, and I could not help
+the feeling.  They have heard you make your speech in
+Maple Lane School, and it did some good, too; I am
+thankful for that.  Now I'm going to prophesy a little
+more&mdash;don't shake your wise head, good sir, at my folly&mdash;you'll
+be an 'Honorable' yet.  I expect to address letters
+to the 'Honorable Roland Bruce, U.S. Senate.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland burst out laughing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Of all the scheming little heads that ever sat upon the
+shoulders of a woman, yours exceeds.  What possesses
+you, Madeline?" and Roland laughed again most heartily;
+"how can you ever dream of such a thing?  I shall never
+be a politician."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, I know that, I should be very sorry for that; but
+worth and talent sometimes meets its reward, even here."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline, I have but one ambition,&mdash;to serve my God
+faithfully in whatever station he appoints, and to walk
+hand in hand with one of the purest and loveliest of God's
+creatures in the path that leads us home to Heaven."
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap29"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+<br><br>
+BEATITUDES.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+A mariner on the broad, mysterious ocean is sailing
+homeward; he has encountered many fearful storms, laid
+by wearily in exhausting calms, and steered safely amid
+rocks and shoals, with the blessed haven still in sight of
+faith's eyeglass.  He is nearing home; chart and compass
+awaken a thrill of hope and love, as they point so surely to
+the same familiar outline of approaching land.  A small
+speck, as of a distant star, is gleaming on him through the
+atmosphere; sometimes very faint, then brighter, clearer,
+fuller, until the beacon of the light-house, with the steady
+brilliancy of a small, well-defined orb, speaks to his heart
+the one sweet word of "Home."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He speeds on swiftly, steadily, with canvas spread to
+the breeze, and finds himself anchored at last in quiet
+waters, waiting for the pilot to take him into port.  The
+vessel lies peacefully upon the rippling waves, the air is
+scarcely moving, the sails flap lazily, and the scream of the
+sea-bird is exchanged for the softer melodies of birds nearer
+land, as they fly low with their song of welcome.  The sails
+are now taken in, and the sailors are singing songs of
+home; the air is full of music, for the murmurs of the
+gentle waves, the light spray dashing slowly against the
+sides of the vessel, whose rocking lullaby is scarcely
+perceptible&mdash;all murmur harmonious notes to the hearts of the
+weary, home-sick mariners; the captain, assured that "all's
+well," goes below to dream of home, of clasping arms, warm
+kisses, and words of holy love.  They have reached the
+latitude of a seaman's blessedness, "near home."  Thus
+far, too, has Roland sailed upon the voyage of life; his
+bark has ridden safely through storm and calm, through
+rock and shoal, with the beacon light of faith and hope
+always shining bright above him, and looking thus steadily
+aloft, he, too, has reached the quiet waters of the
+"Beatitudes."  He reads much in that sweet chapter of "the
+sermon on the mount," and, from the depths of a blissful
+experience, feels what Jesus means when he pronounces the
+word "blessed" upon the children of his love.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"<i>Blessed</i> are the poor in spirit, for theirs <i>is</i> the kingdom
+of heaven."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The poor before God&mdash;has he not realized the blessedness
+of that kingdom, which is joy, and peace, and love in the
+Holy Ghost?  He loves to dwell separately on these
+beatitudes; as the miser lingers over the "unrighteous
+mammon," so Roland muses over his heavenly treasures, fearful
+lest one should fade away from the grasp of faith.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Blessed are the meek," says our dear Lord, "for they
+shall inherit the earth."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The meek&mdash;those contented with their earthly lot, only
+anxious for the favor of God&mdash;they shall truly inherit the
+earth now with their spirit of contentment, and hereafter,
+in the days of millennial glory, when the saints shall truly
+possess the renovated earth&mdash;and with his spiritual growth
+hath not the Master blessed Roland in basket and in
+store? and even if he had not, would not the spirit of humble
+piety be to him a richer boon than the wealth of the Indies?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He has reached these quiet waters, and dwells among
+the regions of the "Beatitudes."  Is not Roland happy? and
+may not all who thus cast themselves upon the good
+providence of God, while steadily pursuing duty, be equally
+blessed?  Jesus' words have meaning; let us prove their
+power.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland is the same active, energetic, earnest man, rising
+daily in public estimation, while seeking only the favor of
+God.  Days of deeper trial may yet come, but God in his
+wisdom chooses their time.  While walking in the footsteps
+of Daniel, nought is needed but the discipline of Daniel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you know, Roland, that they are talking of you for
+the Legislature?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The question was addressed to him by Edmund Norris,
+who was greatly interested in his friend's success.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nonsense, Edmund!" was the reply; "I should never
+please the politicians.  I am no party man, and would
+never stoop to the tricks of men in office."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is really a chance for you, Roland, and I don't
+see why corrupt men are to be allowed always to rule the
+land.  I think high-minded, honorable men are greatly to
+blame for not taking more interest in public affairs; they
+could do much towards purifying our halls of legislature,
+as well as our courts of justice."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have plenty to do here in my private walk, Edmund,
+and can thus exercise a silent influence among my fellow-men."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a few days, Roland found that all was not merely
+Edmund's talk, for a party of gentlemen waited upon him
+to see if he would allow his name to be used in the next
+election.  He listened quietly to their propositions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What do you expect, gentlemen, of your representative?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That he would by all measures advance the prosperity
+of his State."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland smiled, saying&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"According to the views of a certain party."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Certainly; he is bound to represent those who send
+him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then I suppose that he is expected to attend to many
+little matters of private interest; that is frequently attended
+with much trouble.  What will he receive for such offices?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He may pocket many a cool five hundred in this way,
+if he is only accommodating."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Supposing that his judgment and conscience should
+both be opposed to the views of his constituents on some
+points, what would be expected?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That he would waive such inconvenient things in the
+way of politics, and always consult the interest of his
+party."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then you expect him, in a free country, to give up his
+own independence.  Is that so, gentlemen?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Of course&mdash;he cannot be a public man, and preserve
+that.  The independence of a politician is only read in the
+Constitution of the land; it has no real existence&mdash;he has
+sold it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then, farewell, gentlemen&mdash;I am a foreigner by birth,
+but an American by choice.  I revere the men who framed
+our Constitution, and am willing to be guided by its noble
+teachings.  I cannot consent to your proposition of making
+it a dead letter in my case, nor can I surrender the
+inestimable rights of manhood.  I thank God for my conscience,
+and my judgment; I will not hoodwink the one, nor act
+against the dictates of the other.  I am a <i>freeman</i>.  If
+ever I fill a public station, it will be as an independent
+man, to advance the right, the just, the true only.  I am
+not your man; I would be of no earthly use to
+individuals&mdash;the 'cool five hundred' cannot buy me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We are sorry, Mr. Bruce," replied the speaker; "with
+your talents, you could reach any post of honor that you
+choose; but with your romantic notions, you are throwing
+away a golden opportunity."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This would be no post of honor to me, gentlemen;
+there are others more private, more influential, that involve
+no sacrifice of principle; I have chosen such, and have the
+sweet approval of my conscience; I cannot barter that for
+any earthly good," and he laid his hand impressively upon
+his heart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We honor your integrity, but it will not do in a world
+like ours&mdash;good-morning, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-morning, gentlemen&mdash;God is wiser than man, and
+by his laws will I be governed."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edmund was disappointed at the result of this interview.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And so you rejected the offers that I spoke of, Roland;
+I think that you carry your high-flown notions too far&mdash;you
+might easily have accepted such a position, and not have
+compromised your principles in the least."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We differ in sentiment, Edmund; and the day will
+come, when you will agree with me&mdash;experience is a great
+teacher."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God."  This
+beatitude spoke volumes to Roland that night, as he
+sank to quiet slumbers; for peace soon follows sacrifice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the exercise of Christian principles, Roland was a
+happy, prosperous man, for wealth smiled upon him in the
+daily increase of his practice; and though he occupied no
+place of public trust, he was much more honored in the
+omission than in the gift.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline is now in New York, whither she has been
+called on important business.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Shall we take a sail this evening?" asked Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nothing would be more pleasant; let us go early, and
+return by moonlight."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sail on the quiet waters of the bay was one of those
+periods of heart communion which are among the purest
+joys of earthly intercourse.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The world shut out; the low whispers of this evening
+hour, as they sat apart, indicated the deep feelings of each
+young heart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They sat watching the passing vessels, some sailing out,
+others coming in from the sea; craft of all kinds and sizes
+gliding by them so gently, all containing pilgrims on the
+waters of life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Roland, do you ever think how much these little boats
+resemble the voyagers of mortality?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Madeline, all bound to the ocean of eternity; we
+are sailing with them, dearest&mdash;it seems very sweet and
+peaceful&mdash;what a sad thought that so many may be speeding
+on the voyage which ends in a fearful wreck at last!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How blessed are we, dear Roland, to feel that our little
+barks are guided by a gracious hand! for we know who
+steers them on so safely."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you realize the presence of that precious Saviour,
+Madeline?  I have been lately studying the sermon on the
+mount; have you ever thought, dear, of the full meaning
+of the Saviour's word, 'blessed?'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And I have been reading in the same, dear Roland; and
+think that I am learning, slowly, the meaning of those
+precious 'beatitudes'&mdash;as I bend at my daily devotions,
+and read the holy book; as I walk among my poor
+dependents in the green lanes at Woodcliff, or worship in the
+school-room of Maple Lane, I feel the murmured
+benediction, and know now what Jesus means, when he says
+those precious words, 'blessed' are they who exercise these
+holy emotions."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland sat in silence for a few moments, and then continued,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Our little barks are now in quiet waters, dearest&mdash;why
+should they be any longer separated? or rather when shall
+we occupy the same vessel, and sail together on the same
+stream?" and Roland took the little hand within his own,
+and listened for the answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She smiled archly, as she replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Our present life is very happy, Roland; the married
+people say that these are the happiest days&mdash;why then
+should we wish to bring them to a close so soon?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you really think so, Madeline?" said Roland, as she
+turned away to hide her blushes, "do you believe any such
+thing? don't you know that we would both be happier
+were our destinies united? and then, dearest, remember,
+that I have no home,&mdash;a parlor and two rooms are not
+home, Madeline.  I brought you here this afternoon just to
+ask, how much longer must I go alone?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is a shame to tease you, Roland, but the old feeling
+of mischief is very tempting&mdash;now, I suppose, that you
+want to bring my liberty to an end; to put aside the lover,
+with his sweet whispered words, and to begin the husband,
+with his tones of authority.  'Madam, I wish it so,' and
+'Madam, you must not do this,' and 'Madam, you must
+not do that;' is it not so, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He understood the little artifice, by which she evaded an
+answer, and smiled again, as he replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are afraid of no such thing, Madeline; you know
+your power, and the deep love that fills my heart; do not
+trifle when I want a serious answer."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She laid her little hand quietly within the grasp of the
+strong, firm man, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Take me, Roland, I am yours for life&mdash;through weal
+and woe, in sickness and in health, until death us do part."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The moment of levity had passed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When shall I call you mine?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In two months from to-day, Roland; will that suffice,
+dearest?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why should it be two months?  I cannot understand
+what you ladies have to do&mdash;what is the use of such an
+extensive wardrobe?  It is just as easily made up
+afterwards.  I could be ready in a day, Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And you really would deprive me, Roland, of a young
+bride's pleasure&mdash;it is such a joy to prepare a wedding
+trousseau!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You don't think so, Madeline, for I know no one who
+cares so little for the fripperies of dress as you&mdash;now what
+is the reason for delay?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To be serious then, Roland; Aunt Matilda has some
+peculiar notions about these matters; and since I have not
+pleased her altogether in my choice, I think it is due to her
+to consult her wishes in this one thing&mdash;she would never
+hear to any thing else, I know."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, then! be it so&mdash;two months from to-day; that is
+the decision."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The spirit of mischief returned.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't you pity the poor thing, with the proud spirit,
+giving herself away to such a grand Mogul, with all his
+strict notions of right and wrong?  I am afraid that she
+will beat her wings against the bars of her cage."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you really fear the bonds of matrimony, Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"With you, dearest? no&mdash;you may lead me where you
+will; for I know that it will always be in paths of holiness
+and love."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here then is the token of our union!" and Roland
+placed upon her finger the ring of betrothal, and then
+kissed the dear hand that lay so confidingly clasped in his.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, Madeline, I have something to show you; it is
+too dark to read it now, but I can tell you what it is.  I
+want you only&mdash;Madeline, without her dowry; she only
+is the object of my love.  I have drawn up this document,
+in which all your estate is secured to yourself forever; so
+that I can be wholly cleared from any suspicions of sordid
+motives&mdash;your wealth has always been a drawback, and
+long withheld me from seeking your hand."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And do you think, Roland Bruce, that I would marry a
+man whom I could not trust with everything that is mine?
+What! separate interests between man and wife! are we
+not one, Roland? one in love, in hope, in pursuits, one in
+the hopes of a better world; and shall we not be one in
+all things pertaining to this mortal life?  No, Roland&mdash;what
+is mine, is yours&mdash;yours to direct, to manage, to
+control&mdash;we are one in all things, Roland, I will hear to
+nothing else; I do not want to read that paper; I am blushing
+while I think of it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland was silent a moment, from the depth of his
+emotions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your confidence shall never be abused, my own precious
+Madeline; we will try to use these gifts as stewards
+for our Master, and I feel assured that he will bless us."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The return home was full of sweet reflections; for amid
+the music that swelled, and then died away from passing
+pleasure boats, there came a voice over the quiet waters,
+which pronounced them "blessed," and they heard its
+blissful whispers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We will leave them to this hour that comes but once in
+mortal life; and will not anticipate the discipline that must
+purge away the remaining dross of imperfect human
+character, until presented faultless before the throne of God.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Matilda resigns herself to the necessity of such a
+marriage, and busies herself in the preparations, for she is
+determined that there shall be a grand wedding at Woodcliff.
+There is much to do, for the young pair are to sail
+for Europe immediately after their marriage.  Lavinia
+Raymond is shocked at such a degradation, and declares
+that neither she nor her mother will countenance such a
+sacrifice by their presence; Harry Castleton and Charles
+Davenport are disgusted when they hear of their new
+cousin, and several young ladies around Woodcliff utterly
+surprised.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It may do for Madeline Hamilton to take such a step,
+she can afford it," said Lizzie Belton; "but for any of us,
+we should lose caste at once."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The wedding day arrived.  It was a bright and beautiful
+morning in the month of May.  Madeline arose early, and
+sat quietly at her chamber window looking out upon the
+beauteous prospect;&mdash;all creation smiled; so felt the young
+girl&mdash;the birds carolled their sweetest songs around the
+window; flowers bloomed everywhere in rich abundance;
+the sky was clear, for but a few fleecy clouds floated over
+the landscape.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is my wedding day," whispered Madeline, "would
+that my dear father were here to bless his daughter; but
+he is in a better land, where there is neither marrying nor
+giving in marriage."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She bowed her head, and prayed in solemn silence for
+herself, and for him who was henceforth to be her partner
+in the journey of life; and after the sweet hour of
+communion with God, descended to the breakfast room; the only
+marks of emotion visible, the blushing cheek, quivering lip,
+and dewy eyes.  George Stanley and Helen Thornly, with
+Edmund Norris and Lucy Edmunds, acted as groomsmen
+and bridesmaids.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We need not say that the bride was lovely, nor the groom
+imposing in his appearance&mdash;a full flowing dress of white
+satin, and a cloud of exquisite lace, through which gleamed
+diamonds and orange blossoms, enveloped the fair bride.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Bishop of the diocese officiated; for as yet, there
+was no minister settled in the neighborhood.  It was no
+empty ceremony of mere show for Madeline&mdash;she would
+have prefered a more quiet wedding&mdash;but almost unconscious
+of the presence of so many, she took her solemn
+vow before God.  A sweet smile of happiness played around
+her mouth, bright rose-tints shone through the bridal veil,
+and the eyes, when raised to her husband's face, expressed
+pure and holy confidence, with perfect love.  Roland's
+deportment was calm, dignified, reverential&mdash;he looked upon
+the fair being at his side, as one committed to his love by
+God himself, and deeply solemn were the vows made on
+that day, before the marriage altar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline's first glance was for Roland's father, who was
+standing near.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Bring him here, Roland."  She took the pale hand, and
+presented her cheek to him, saying,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Love me, dear father, you have a daughter now;" and
+Stephen Bruce looked down upon the fair face and smiled
+sadly, as he replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Be happy, my dear children, happier than I hae been."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+George Stanley was to be ordained in the autumn; and
+the married pair looked on quietly, pleased on seeing
+so many indications of an incipient attachment between
+the young man and their friend Helen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Would it not be pleasant, Roland," said the young
+wife, "to have them near us, George for our minister, and
+Helen for the pastor's wife?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I suppose, dear, that we are for marrying all good
+people; but seriously, I do believe that my friend George
+is deeply interested in our little Helen."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Laying aside her wedding-dress, they met at the supper
+table as a social family party; and after tea, Madeline
+ringing a bell, summoned the household to the library.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland took his place at the table as head of the family,
+and with a serious, manly voice, addressed a few words to
+those present; then reverently read a chapter in the Bible,
+making a few serious remarks,&mdash;Madeline led the singing
+with the accompaniment of a parlor organ, and Roland
+closed the service by an earnest, fervent prayer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Returning to the drawing-room, Madeline excused herself
+a moment, and leading her husband to the landing at
+the head of the stairs, she said,&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I want to hear what the Eolian says on our wedding-day,
+Roland&mdash;how soft! how peaceful are its murmurs,
+dear!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Madeline&mdash;the air itself is very soothing, and then
+our feelings of calm and tranquil blessedness are reproduced
+on the sweet harp."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am a little more fanciful than you, dear&mdash;I must
+believe in the ministry of angels; you know, Roland, that we
+are told that they are ministering spirits, and that they
+encamp around the dwellings of the righteous.  I believe,
+dear, in your prayer to-night, that you invoked their
+presence; it is a sweet fancy that they may breathe upon these
+chords of unearthly music."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If so, Madeline, they are discoursing charmingly
+to-night&mdash;for I can imagine nothing in this weird music,
+with its mysterious strains, but sounds of peace, and joy,
+and love."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The only drawback to their happiness was the thought
+of leaving old Mr. Bruce behind them; but a knowledge of
+his sorrows had interested Aunt Matilda, and her kind
+heart led her to promise to take good care of the old
+gentleman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He seemed quite pleased with the idea of living in the
+country; Roland left a number of charges with him, and it
+was a grateful thought that he could be useful to his son.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Susan Grant was appointed teacher of Madeline's little
+school; and old Mr. Bruce spent his evenings generally at
+the reading-rooms, acting as librarian.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Accompanied by Stanley and Helen, they reached New
+York; taking leave of them, they sailed in the first steamer
+for Liverpool; and, after a quick passage across the ocean,
+reached their destined port.  Hurrying on, they found
+themselves in the great metropolis of England; the Earl
+of N&mdash;&mdash; was out of town; anxious to see her friends,
+Madeline made no stay in London, but proceeded directly
+to Parkhurst.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Their journey was through a charming country, at a most
+lovely season of the year, when spring flowers were
+abundant; the hawthorn hedges in full bloom; and all nature
+rejoicing in the fresh green of a spring-time in England.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline's emotions were rather embarrassing as she
+drew near to Parkhurst; and when the porter at the lodge
+opened the gate, and she found herself really driving up
+the avenue, her emotion was visible.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland smiled as he read the speaking face; and taking
+her hand, he said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline, you are trembling."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Roland; I am thinking of the last evening I
+spent here; it is nearly three years ago, and I dare say
+that it is all forgotten; but these scenes revive the memory
+most powerfully."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Arriving at the manor-house, their names were sent up;
+and, in another minute, the Lady Alice came running in
+to greet her beloved friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Welcome, dearest Madeline!  I have been so sure that
+you would come;" and she embraced the young bride with
+the warmth of old friendship.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My husband, Lady Alice;" and Roland bowed to the
+noble lady, with all the grace of courtly ease.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are welcome to Parkhurst, Mr. Bruce, for
+Madeline's sake."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How came you here, Lady Alice!  I supposed that you
+were married ere this."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have been a wife, Madeline, six weeks, and am now
+making a visit to my mother; you will see Lord Elmore at
+dinner;" ringing the bell, she called a servant, directing
+him to show the visitors to the room which she pointed
+out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline ran to the window to look out upon the familiar
+objects; the same gentle deer, the cawing of the dear old
+rooks, the bloom of the same sweet flowers, and the deep
+shade of the same old trees, just seemed as if she had left
+them but yesterday.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is it not charming, Roland?" said the young wife,
+"and then, when you see the dear family, you will not
+wonder that I call this happy home another Eden."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Descending to the drawing-room, the countess was there
+ready to receive them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And so, Madeline, my love, you come to us as a bride,"
+was the warm salutation, as she kissed the blushing cheek,
+and then turned gracefully to greet her husband.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have obtained a prize, my dear sir; I hope that
+you will cherish her tenderly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland bowed over the fair hand, as he replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I believe, my lady, that I know her value."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The hour for dinner arrived; the earl gave them a hearty
+welcome; and Lord Frederic, who was now a fine young
+man, received them with all due courtesy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where is Lord N&mdash;&mdash;?" thought Madeline, but she did
+not ask.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My brother is out riding with Lady Lucy; we expect
+them every minute," said his sister; "and now, Madeline,
+let me introduce you to my husband, Lord Elmore;" and
+a pleasant-looking young man, with a quiet face of
+goodness, bowed in return to the smile of Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a short time, Lord N&mdash;&mdash; entered, with the Lady Lucy
+leaning upon his arm; he was taken by surprise, blushed
+slightly, but advancing to Madeline, he said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lady Lucy, allow me to introduce you to our friend,
+Mrs. Bruce, formerly Miss Hamilton, of whom you have
+heard me so often speak."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The young lady, with a very sweet smile and blush,
+extended her hand to the married pair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Seated at the table, the conversation became general.
+Lord N&mdash;&mdash; was polite, kind, friendly to Madeline; but it
+was plain that the gentle Lady Lucy engrossed all the more
+tender attentions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How long since you were married, Mrs. Bruce?" asked
+Lord N&mdash;&mdash;.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"About five weeks, my lord; we left Woodcliff
+immediately, and are on our way to Scotland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will pay us a visit, dear Madeline," said the Lady
+Alice, "ere you go further; I shall hear no denials."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline looked towards her husband.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can we spare the time, Mr. Bruce?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think so; we are not to be hurried in our movements."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After dinner, Lord N&mdash;&mdash; uncovered the harp; and leading
+Madeline forward, said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have heard no such strains as you produced ever
+since you left us, Mrs. Bruce; you will favor us this
+evening."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Most gladly, my lord; have you any choice?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"None at all; all your music is charming."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lady Lucy sat near the harp, for she was enraptured
+with the performer, and no less with the sweet strains
+produced by Madeline's dainty fingers, as they wandered
+so gracefully among the harp-strings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I wish that I could play as you do, Mrs. Bruce; Lord
+N&mdash;&mdash; is so passionately fond of music; I am trying to
+learn, and hope that I shall succeed."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you understand the piano, Lady Lucy?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think that I do."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then there will only be the difficulty of learning how
+to manage the instrument, which will require diligent
+practice: will you not play a piece?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With unaffected ease, she took her seat, and played with
+much taste a simple little air, and turning around, artlessly,
+to Madeline, said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you think it worth while for me to learn?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Indeed I do," was the quick reply; "you have taste,
+correctness of touch, and will soon acquire skill."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We will come to the harp to-morrow morning alone,"
+said the young lady, "and see what we can do; perhaps
+you will point out my errors."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Certainly, my dear lady; I shall be but too happy to
+render you any aid."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lord N&mdash;&mdash; was pleased with the social chat, and when
+he had the opportunity, said to Madeline,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is she not charming? so artless! and yet so intelligent
+and good!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She seems to be a lovely person, Lord N&mdash;&mdash;; may I
+congratulate you in the possession of such a heart?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You may, Mrs. Bruce; she will soon be mine."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next morning, the young ladies met in the drawing
+room, and Madeline took great pleasure in directing the
+hour's practice; and as long as she stayed at Parkhurst,
+the Lady Lucy availed herself of the generous aid of the
+youthful visitor; mutually pleased with each other, these
+were happy hours.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A visit to Elmore Hall completed their stay in England.
+Leaving her pleasant friends, Madeline enjoyed the fine
+country through which they passed on their way to Scotland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stopping in their journey wherever there were spots of
+historical interest, or beautiful scenery, their northern tour
+occupied some weeks.  Madeline's naive and enthusiastic
+expressions of delight were fully appreciated by the fine
+taste of her husband.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Whom hae we here?" said Uncle Malcolm, as he heard
+the wheels of a carriage driving up to the door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They are travellers frae a distance, uncle," said Annot
+Lindsay, "for they hae a large number o' trunks."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Malcolm could think of but one such party, and hurrying
+out, the beaming faces of the young pair greeted him from
+the carriage window.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a moment Roland was pressed to his heart, and Madeline
+most affectionately welcomed to the Highland Hall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How lang hae ye been in England, Roland?" inquired
+Mr. Graham.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"About three months."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And did na let us know, Roland!  How is that?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We wanted to surprise you, my good sir; and then we
+had a great deal to see, and we knew that you would hurry
+us on to Scotland; but we are going to pay you the longest
+visit."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Uncle Malcolm took Madeline's hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"May the dear Lord bless ye, my sweet young leddy! ye
+hae made a noble choice, an' I doubt na will be a happy
+wife."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The wife of Roland Bruce must be blessed, Uncle
+Malcolm; I have known him for more than eleven years, and
+always loved him even from a child."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline looked around her with wondering eyes, for all
+was so different from the calm features of English
+landscape.  High mountains, clothed with dark, rich foliage,
+and the rough lineaments of the Scottish Highlands, so
+totally unlike the picturesque country through which she
+had so lately passed.  But it had great charms&mdash;even the
+novelty made it attractive.  Then this Highland home of a
+Scotch gentleman was so comfortable; such a warm glow
+of welcome shone upon her everywhere, that the young
+heart was full of happiness, and the bright face dimpled
+with rosy smiles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And Annot Lindsay was so piquante! so fresh! so guileless!
+Her airy little figure, soft blue eyes, and profusion
+of light ringlets shading her sweet young face, were not
+her only charms.  The warm heart that beat under her blue
+boddice, and the musical voice that greeted Madeline with
+such a simple, earnest welcome, gained the heart of the
+young bride at once; for soon after supper, the two were
+seated side by side, on the soft sofa of the family room,
+quite at home; Annot holding Madeline's hand, and
+looking on her face with evident admiration.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline, I luve ye," whispered the young girl, as she
+drew closer to her, and leaned her pretty head upon her
+shoulder&mdash;"wunna ye be my sister, Madeline? for I ne'er
+had ane."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She returned the caress of the lovely girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is just my case, Annot, and I can easily adopt you
+as my little sister; for I shall not return to America
+without you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What will Uncle Malcolm say to that?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh!  I am wonderful at coaxing; ask Roland about that."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While this episode was acting upon the sofa, Uncle
+Malcolm had raised the piano.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It has been tuned on purpose for ye, dear; now, sister
+Lindsay, I am going to gie ye a treat;" and the good man
+led Madeline to the instrument.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Scotch music first," said the host.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know a great deal, Uncle Malcolm, for I learned it to
+please Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And Madeline threw out her whole soul that night, and
+poured forth such strains of melody as melted every heart&mdash;even
+old Lion drew closer to the instrument, looking wistfully
+in the face of the performer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then came several fine sacred pieces, which particularly
+accorded with the tastes of the family at Graham Hall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After evening worship, Mrs. Lindsay led her guests to
+their room, for she perceived that they were wearied with
+their journey.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have made great improvements, Mrs. Lindsay,"
+said Roland, as he looked around.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes&mdash;Malcolm wad hae everything renewed; he went
+to London himsel', so that a' should be right."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He has made this a charming room, indeed," said
+Roland; "one would scarcely wish to leave it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is just what we should like, Roland, but we canna
+wish for sic' happiness; guid night,"&mdash;and she kissed the
+cheek of the young wife, and departed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the freedom of the country, the three young people
+ran about with the gay spirits of childhood, searching out
+the fine points of picturesque views, and bringing in every
+variety of novel plant.  Roland often laughed at
+Madeline's blunders, who, being unacquainted with Scotch
+vegetation, frequently gathered weeds for flowers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The purple tints of the Scotch heather met them everywhere,
+and Madeline could easily understand why it was
+so dear to Mrs. Bruce; for was it not almost the carpet of
+the Scotch highlands?  Many were the pleasant excursions
+which Uncle Malcolm devised for their amusement&mdash;a visit
+to the old manse, and another to the kirk, where Madeline
+stood in silence with Roland, amidst the memories of his
+childhood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We must see Jennie," said her husband; and the old
+woman, who now lived at the manse, was summoned to the
+parlor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"An' this is yer bonny bride, Roland! may she aye be
+a blessed wife! she's a bright young bird! wad na yer
+mither hae luved her weel?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am glad to see you at the manse, Jennie."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Roland&mdash;but the dear ones that made its sunshine,
+hae a' gane; an' a' that I can do is to remember."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will meet them again, Jennie."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, i' the land that's far awa', hinney&mdash;when this
+puir body hae done wi' cares an' toils, we shall a' rejoice
+together."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here is something for you, Jennie; a warm winter
+dress; we remembered you on our way."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And I too," said the young wife, as she unrolled a soft
+tartan cloak.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Jennie dropped a courtesy, as she said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"These are just what I wanted&mdash;it wad hae' been a lang
+time ere I could hae' bought the like; thank ye kindly, my
+bonny bairns."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They turned to go&mdash;"Stay, Roland; I hae yer mither's
+hymn-book; I found it i' the auld kirk, an' I kenned that
+nae body wad luve it half sae weel."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland took the precious relic, and bade farewell.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God bless ye, my bairns; an' bring ye hame to the
+blessed kingdom;" were the parting words of old Jennie.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Alone they stood around the grave of Lilian Gordon;
+and Madeline, amid the deep solitude of the solemn scenery
+with nought but the murmurs of the rustling winds, and
+the gurgling of mountain brooks to disturb the silence,
+could sympathize with the emotions so often described by
+Roland, on that sacred spot.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here were kindled the first feelings of ancestral pride,
+Roland;" said the young wife.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Madeline, I can say with the poet Cowper,
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "'My boast is not that I deduce my birth<br>
+  From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth;<br>
+  But higher far my proud pretensions rise&mdash;<br>
+  The son of parents passed into the skies.'"<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>
+"Here, too, was kindled your dislike of the Church of
+England."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is true&mdash;and can you wonder?  I was but a child,
+then, with all the strong feelings of a Scotch education&mdash;I
+knew nothing of the noble specimens of piety, learning,
+and the true catholic spirit which distinguish the Church
+of England in modern days; I doubt if you could find a
+persecuting Laud now."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It makes me so happy, my husband, to hear you express
+such sentiments; for I should be very sorry to find
+a gulf between us, on such a subject."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But, really, Madeline, in spite of all these old grievances,
+I do prefer, in many things, the church of your love&mdash;it
+suits my spirit; the solemn order of its ritual, the fervent
+tone of its devotion, baptized by the Spirit of God, breathed
+throughout these sacred offices, seem to me so much more
+worthy of the solemnity of public worship offered to the
+Deity, than the rude irreverent speech which shocks a
+devotional, humble spirit; the trouble is just here&mdash;people
+are tempted to rest in forms, and where there is not a
+spirit of heartfelt piety, these may degenerate into mere
+lip-service."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, Roland, that is true&mdash;but do not all persons who
+lead public exercises have their own forms almost
+stereotyped? and our choice must, sometimes, not always be,
+between crude, irreverent, tedious prayers, and the wisdom,
+piety, and experience, of some of the purest spirits of the
+Reformation.  I could close my eyes, sometimes, and say
+who was praying, if I did not know the voice, I am sure.
+What a blessing it is that we can both stand on such a
+broad platform, as to embrace all who love our Lord Jesus
+Christ, in sincerity and truth&mdash;my heart turns instinctively
+to all such with a warm throb, and wherever I see the
+lovely features of the Master, I am conscious of a love
+above all this earthly scaffolding."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There was much in the spirit of the old Covenanters to
+admire and revere, Madeline; their heroic endurance and
+patience placed them by the side of the noblest martyrs;
+and many of them will, doubtless, be very near the throne
+of our dear Lord in that day, when he gathers in his own
+elect."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For that I love their memory, Roland; but there was
+much in the spirit of their great leader, Oliver Cromwell,
+that did not seem to me to accord with the spirit of
+Christ."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He lived in days so different from ours that we can
+scarcely realize what qualities such times could call forth."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were seated by the side of Lilian's grave, and, with
+hands clasped, they sang
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "Blest is the tie that binds<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Our hearts in Christian love;<br>
+  The fellowship of kindred minds<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Is like to that above."<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>
+After a few moments of delicious silence, Roland looked
+upward towards the distant hills.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is growing late, dear; we must not keep our good
+friends waiting;" and reluctantly they turned away from
+the hallowed spot.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Time sped too rapidly; for the intercourse of the congenial
+spirits which dwelt at Graham Hall was just such as completely
+represented the idea of domestic happiness.  Riding
+about with Uncle Malcolm, interested in his various schemes
+of business or benevolence, Roland was content; and
+Mrs. Lindsay, Madeline, and Annot formed a happy trio around
+the domestic fireside.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The simplicity of the young wife endeared her tenderly
+to good Mrs. Lindsay; for while she daily gave Annot her
+music lesson, she left no opportunity of gathering from
+Mrs. Lindsay's experience practical knowledge for her own
+housekeeping.  With her clean, white apron, she was often
+seen by the side of that good lady, when making any of her
+nice dishes, or putting up the various comforts for winter
+use.  Many a time did Roland peep in on these occasions,
+smiling at the pretty figure, with sleeves rolled up, and
+dainty fingers busily at work with the pastry and cakes,
+the pickles or jellies of good Mrs. Lindsay.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sometimes he would run in, and whisper some words
+which would cover Madeline's face with blushes, and she
+would reply,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Send him away, Mrs. Lindsay; he is growing to be
+such a flatterer; he'll make me vain and foolish."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She gathered thus a number of valuable recipes from
+the kind hostess, and looked upon her visit to Graham
+Hall as the most useful of all since she had left home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A letter from Edmund!" said Roland, one morning, at
+the breakfast-table; "he says that he envies us this visit,
+for he never was so happy, in all his life, as when at
+Graham Hall; there's something here about our little Annot
+that I know she'd like to hear;" and Roland glanced
+mischievously at the blushing face of the young girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I dinna care onything about it, Roland; it's just a
+shame to tease me sae;" and Annot ran away from the
+table in a hurry to attend to some business that she
+remembered suddenly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Roland had a private opportunity, he whispered
+in her ear,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Edmund wonders if sweet Annot Lindsay remembers
+the pleasant walks and rides, the quiet evenings, and
+mossy bunks round Graham Hall; he can never forget
+them, he says, for the linnet that sang those pretty Scotch
+songs so sweetly is ever haunting his path."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Annot listened with downcast face, for she was conscious
+of remembering them quite as tenderly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you know, Annot, that I have obtained Uncle Malcolm's
+consent to spare you just one year? you are going
+with us to Woodcliff; he consents, because he thinks that
+the journey will be of great use to you, Annot; he wishes
+you to be one year with my Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Am I really going!" and she clapped her little hands
+with delight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall be sae happy;" then speedily changing countenance,
+"but what will Uncle Malcolm an' dear mother do
+without me?  I fear that they will be sae lonesome."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A farewell visit to Aunt Douglass and Elsie Gibson
+closed their sojourn in Scotland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Pleasant things must have an end.  After a few weeks of
+busy preparation, Annot was ready; and the hitherto happy
+party were very silent around the breakfast-table, where
+they met for the last time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The parting hour had arrived; trunks all ready, the farewell
+blessing given, and the last adieux silently exchanged
+from full hearts and weeping eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Annot threw herself upon the bosom of her mother,
+then of dear Uncle Malcolm, with a burst of feeling; and
+was placed silently in the carriage by the side of
+Madeline, who folded the young girl in her arms, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Be comforted, Annot; you are going with those who
+love you dearly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I ken it a', Madeline; but I am leaving the dearest far
+behind."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As they passed the familiar scenes of her daily life she
+still looked out with weeping eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Farewell, dear Scotland! how bonnie her dark-brown
+hills appear to me!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A short voyage brought the party to America, and,
+without delay, to Woodcliff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There, Annot, is our dear, dear home!" said Madeline,
+as they drove up the avenue of noble elms.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is a lovely spot, dear! but how different from
+Scotland!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Matilda, Mr. Bruce, and the servants were all in
+waiting; for the long absence of six months had prepared
+the way for a warm welcome.  Aunt Matilda could never
+tire of looking at her dear niece, and Mr. Bruce hung upon
+the arm of his son with the same old reverential love, his
+voice trembling with joyful emotion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hae missed ye day and night, Roland, but I hae done
+a' that ye told me, an' a' is just as ye wish it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The novelty of the scenes around her revived Annot's
+spirits, and she was soon the merry little sunbeam of the
+house.  Aunt Matilda was delighted with the Highland
+lassie, and was never better pleased than when she could
+draw her away from all the rest, and hear her tales about
+Scottish life, and scenery, and people; the old superstitions
+had their charm for her, and many a time Madeline enjoyed
+a quiet laugh at the expense of Aunt Matilda.  As soon as
+Edmund heard of the arrival, he hastened to Woodcliff;
+but what was his surprise to see Annot Lindsay in
+America!  She was no longer the pretty, innocent child of
+fifteen, with her sweet voice and winning ways, but a
+lovely girl of eighteen, with the simplicity of a child and
+the deeper nature of a woman.  She had grown wonderfully,
+but was still a little Highland maiden; the same soft
+eyes and ever-changing color, the same graceful form and
+tripping step, the same luxuriant flow of golden ringlets
+and tender, bewildering voice.  He was completely taken
+by surprise.  He could not call her Annot now&mdash;this
+young and charming woman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Miss Lindsay, I am delighted to see you again; this is
+indeed an unexpected pleasure," and Edmund touched
+respectfully the hand so bashfully extended, and, as soon as
+possible, Annot sought the shelter of a quiet corner, where
+she thought herself secure from observation.  But not so.
+Edmund was soon again by her side, and would take no
+denial when begging for some of her sweet Scotch songs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was an artless little thing, and, without farther
+persuasion, took her seat at the piano, and revived the old
+memories with her sweet voice, now so much fuller, deeper,
+richer than three years ago.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I ken some mair music, Mr. Norris," and Annot
+proceeded to sing some of her more fashionable music.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Let us keep to the old songs, Miss Lindsay; they are
+the sweetest by far."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What are you about now, Edmund?" said Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am in business just to please my mother; but I despise
+mercantile concerns; I shall never be a successful
+merchant."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We shall see you often now, Edmund, I suppose," said
+Roland, archly emphasizing the word now.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think that is very likely," dryly answered Edmund,
+with a significant smile.
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap30"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XXX.
+<br><br>
+FELLOW-HEIRS OF THE GRACE OF LIFE
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+"This is a trial," said Roland; "business calls me to
+New York, and it will never do for me to be running down
+daily to Woodcliff; I should be half of my time on the
+road.  In the busy season, I shall have to content myself
+coming every other day, unless we take boarding in the
+city."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you desire it, Roland? your wishes shall guide me,
+although I should be sorry to leave dear Woodcliff; life is
+so very different in that gay metropolis."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think that we had better remain here; we will go to
+the city for a few weeks in the winter, that Annot may
+see some of the lions that we have to show her."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Still the child of Providence, Roland rose step by step,
+until we find him occupying posts of honor and trust, a
+self-made man, such as thrive best in America.  Life was
+very charming at Woodcliff; but Madeline felt that it was
+time to furnish her young charge with some useful pursuits,
+so one morning after breakfast she summoned her to
+her sitting-room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, Annot, now you have run about like a wild bird
+for a few weeks, suppose that we arrange some plans for
+improvement, dear; that is what Uncle Malcolm wishes,
+you know."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"An' that is just what I desire, Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have written to one of the best teachers of music in
+Boston, and, as it is but a few hours' ride, he can come
+twice a week to give you lessons, and you will have
+abundant time for practice; then I am going to ask your help
+in the Sunday-school, and will give you ten families among
+the factory people to visit."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank ye, dear Madeline; I hae always led a busy life,
+and I wad na be happy in a state o' idleness."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The neighborhood around Woodcliff was rapidly increasing;
+the factories had brought many new families, both of
+the working classes and their employers; and the healthy,
+pleasant climate, the vicinity of the sea, and the beauties
+of fine scenery, had attracted also many summer residents,
+who were building picturesque cottages all around in the
+pleasant lanes, on the hill-tops, and some nearer to the
+sea-shore, where there was now a prospect of good bathing.
+Consequently, the Sunday-school and the congregation
+rapidly multiplied.  Madeline began to think that it was
+time to think about her favorite plan in earnest; there
+must really be a church at Woodcliff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a very happy household that dwelt beneath its
+roof; but there must be something to disturb its quiet, for,
+to Madeline's surprise, Lavinia wrote to say that Lucy and
+she were coming on a visit to Woodcliff.  A slight shade
+of annoyance passed over the face of the young lady as
+she wondered what would bring Lavinia, after her conduct
+at the time of her marriage; but Madeline was a Christian
+and a lady, and sent an acknowledgment of the letter, with
+the information that a room was ready for their reception.
+They arrived&mdash;Lavinia, the same vain and frivolous girl;
+Lucy, the same gentle, pious friend.  A handsome wardrobe,
+with every variety of fashionable folly, was intended
+to impress Annot Lindsay, but it failed signally; for it
+simply excited her wonder, and offended her pure and
+lady-like taste.  Remarks were never made upon the subject
+except by Lavinia herself, and Annot generally contrived
+to introduce some more profitable conversation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We will sit down with the family at a breakfast scene.
+Always attired with the neat simplicity of a lady, Madeline
+had not yet learned to appear before her husband with
+dishevelled hair, untidy costume, or any neglect of ladylike
+habits; and yet she was busier now than when Aunt
+Matilda expressed the fear that such might be the case;
+for, in her leisure moments, she still scribbled privately for
+the news-boys; but she had learned to live by system,
+thanks to the master of the family.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Roland, will you want the horses to-day?" asked the
+wife.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think not; do you wish to ride, Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes; I have a visit to pay; I have never returned
+Mrs. De Coursey's call."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think that I shall have to refuse my wife the use of
+the horses to-day."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline changed countenance&mdash;to be refused! and before
+Aunt Matilda and Lavinia, it was really too bad.  She
+began to tap her little foot under the table, and to play
+impatiently with her spoon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why can I not have the horses, if you are not going
+to use them, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do not wish my wife to cultivate the acquaintance
+of Mrs. De Coursey; she is not a proper associate for a
+pure-minded lady."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, what is the matter with Mrs. De Coursey?  for
+my part, I think that she is charming; so sweet in her
+manners, so generous in her charities!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have you ever seen her ride with her husband, Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I cannot say that I have," was the reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have you not seen her riding repeatedly with that
+infamous George Sinclair, Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think I have, but he is her cousin; is he not?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Perhaps so; but in the absence of her husband, she is
+much too free with gentlemen generally."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And so you really refuse me the horses, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do not let us talk about it now, my love; after
+breakfast, I will explain my reasons more fully."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland looked deeply pained, Madeline angry and
+mortified, Lavinia Raymond contemptuous, and Aunt Matilda
+utterly surprised.  It was the first ripple on the matrimonial
+surface.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The meal passed in silence&mdash;husband and wife were
+thoroughly uncomfortable.  After Madeline had washed her
+silver and glass, as was her custom, she proceeded, with a
+dejected step, to her favorite room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland followed&mdash;she was sitting in silence before her
+secretary, leaning her head on her hand, while she could
+not conceal the tears that were stealing through her
+fingers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My dearest wife," said the young man, "have I pained
+you?" and he seated himself by her, winding his arm around
+her waist, and kissing away the tears, as they fell drop by
+drop from her eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She did not answer; conscience was busily at work, for
+she felt that she had been wrong.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can you not trust me, love? would I refuse you any
+thing which I know was for your real good? but when the
+honor of my pure and noble wife is concerned, then I must
+be the husband, Madeline.  Do you know that Mrs. De
+Coursey is not visited, even in New York, by any of the
+really pure and good?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I did not know it, Roland, but I wish that you had
+refused me when alone; it was so mortifying to be treated
+just like a&mdash;&mdash;child!" and she sobbed out the latter word,
+and threw herself upon his bosom; "and then to see the
+look of triumph and contempt in Lavinia's face, and
+surprise and pain on Aunt Matilda's."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What need you care, my love, for the opinions of the
+world, if you only know that you are right?  It is right to
+avoid the society of the impure, and it is right to be guided
+by your husband&mdash;is it not, dear?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline turned her eyes full upon Roland's noble face,
+so full of sorrow, and tender feeling.  He had fully
+conquered; and she wound her arms around his neck, as she
+whispered,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Forgive me, dear Roland, you are always right&mdash;this is
+just some of the leaven of my old hateful pride."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And you the same sweet, ingenuous wife&mdash;do you think
+that I will ever allow any thing to approach you, Madeline,
+that can even breathe upon your reputation, or your
+happiness? now, darling&mdash;be comforted;" and he kissed
+again and again the half-smiling, tearful face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline began to laugh, a little hysterically, at first, but
+at last the showers passed away, and she was herself
+again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Opening her secretary, she took out a draft of a church,
+which she had brought from England, a copy of the pretty
+Gothic building at Parkhurst.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I want to ask your advice, Roland, about this church;
+you won't refuse me dear, will you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is very pretty, Madeline; but I think that we must
+have something added that is a little more useful."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O, yes! it wants a Sunday-school&mdash;we cannot have
+that in a building like this, without spoiling the
+proportions."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We can have a building by itself of the same style,
+and then, you know, that there must be a parsonage."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, that is fixed&mdash;no church without a house for the
+minister; I think the time has come to set about
+building&mdash;but it will cost a great deal of money."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will give a thousand, Madeline, out of my own
+means&mdash;I mean from my practice."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can we not give two thousand, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think so, but we must be careful, dear, not to go
+beyond our ability, though our means are abundant; now,
+darling, come sit by me a moment," and Roland drew the
+young wife by his side upon the sofa, while he said softly,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you not sometimes regret your loss of liberty,
+Madeline? just tell me, darling, truly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Never, Roland, in the depths of my heart&mdash;there may
+he ripples of the old pride disturbing the surface of my
+happiness; but the quiet ocean of love cannot be ruffled by
+these little passing winds," and she kissed her husband
+fondly; then rising said, "wait a minute, I must get my
+bonnet and mantle, for I have some purchases to make
+to-day."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Returning soon, every trace of sadness had vanished,
+and with the old arch look of mischief in her face, she
+entered saying, with a mock reverence of profound
+obeisance,
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "'Most potent, grave and reverend signior!<br>
+  My very noble and approved good master,'<br>
+  If I have in aught offended your lordship,<br>
+  I most humbly beg your gracious pardon&mdash;<br>
+  The very head and front of my offending is in this;<br>
+  That wilful woman like, I, like a fractious child,<br>
+  Have sought to have my way, and not my lord's.<br>
+  But now I lay down the weapons of my rebellion,<br>
+  And Desdemona-like, bow to my lord Othello,<br>
+  And say just love me well, my lord, and I am happy."<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+and as she concluded, placing her hand gracefully upon her
+heart, she made another mocking obeisance; the long,
+drooping eyelashes hiding the gleams of mischief that lurked
+in ambush.  While she spoke these words with such a
+winning grace, Roland looked and listened with admiring
+gaze.  It was the bewitching child of the sea-shore, and
+the wild woods yet, that stood before him, with her bright
+look of mischief gleaming from her deep blue eyes, and
+dimpling her expressive mouth.  He kissed the glowing
+cheek with fondest love, as he replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well done! my love, where did you get that fine speech?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"An imitation of Shakspeare, my lord; I was just seized
+with a fit of mischief, and thought that I would be sweet
+Desdemona&mdash;have I succeeded, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Admirably&mdash;now, what have you to ask, my darling?
+I know that there must be something behind this pretty
+acting."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, just this&mdash;to show that we are all right again,
+just take me this morning to the store, and this evening to
+the hill above Glendale; I want to show you a fine site for
+our church."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My plans were all different for to-day; but you must
+carry me where you please, Desdemona."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's noble, my lord Othello; now as soon as you can
+get the carriage, I am ready."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a little while the carriage drove up, and Lavinia was
+utterly surprised to see Madeline, with beaming eyes and
+glowing cheek, handed in by her husband.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Kissing her hand to those on the piazza, she drove off in
+high spirits, and Lavinia said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madeline lets that man lead her just where he pleases;
+I am astonished that a girl of her spirit should be so
+tame&mdash;refuse her own horses!  I should like to see the man that
+could do that by me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is mutual leading, Lavinia," replied Lucy.  "I never
+saw a more perfect union."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They rode happily along, their intercourse the dearer
+for the gentle agitation that had disturbed it&mdash;but let young
+married persons beware that they stir not these ripples too
+often, for they may raise tempests at last.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lengthening their ride, they remained away for two
+hours, and Madeline was happy in having her husband at
+home all day.  After an early tea, another pleasant ride
+to Glendale, closed the day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Arrived at the spot, Madeline led her husband to the top
+of a hill, commanding a fine view of the whole country.
+On the brow of this eminence stood a grove of fine old
+forest trees, that looked as if they had grown there on
+purpose to shade the pretty church; on the slope of the hill,
+facing the south, was an extensive lawn descending
+gradually to a babbling stream, bordered on either side by
+wild shrubbery, and fine old trees, dipping their branches
+into the winding creek; pretty vines hung in graceful
+festoons among the branches, forming charming resting-places
+for the strollers on the banks of this rural stream.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To the left was one broad rolling hill, rising in gentle
+swells, until it was lost in the distant outlines of misty
+blue hills.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This one eminence was partly covered with fine forest
+trees, crowning it to the very top; and on the slopes at the
+foot of the hill were pretty rural cottages, surrounded by
+shade trees, cultivated fields, and thick clumps of woods.
+From one broad opening, peeps out the dearest little
+miniature home, so like a bird's nest of love; as far as eye
+could reach, for miles the country was one beautiful garden
+of gentle hills and dales, and extensive woodlands; adding
+the picturesque feature of a dark stone bridge over a
+neighboring stream.  The whole landscape was dotted with fine
+farms, gentlemen's country-seats, and quiet rural homes;
+and bounding this whole charming picture, on every side,
+were ranges of low hills, fading away in the distance in
+tints of misty blue.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Viewed at sunset, it was a picture never to be forgotten&mdash;the
+whole landscape was flooded in a halo of glory; the
+deep crimson of the setting sun illumined the sky, and
+hung his veil of splendor over every hill; gradually it
+changed to deeper hues, then to rich purple and gold,
+tinging the trees with the reflected glow of sunlight; slowly
+the hues faded, until the landscape was enveloped in the
+sombre drapery of solemn evening.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What a place for thought and study, Roland!  This
+must be the site for our church; we will call it Calvary; it
+shall be Gothic, with a Sunday-school, and parsonage to
+correspond; we must have a good minister; I have set my
+heart on George Stanley, he has been just ordained; write
+to him, Roland; he might as well come down at once; and
+if he becomes interested, he can help us to collect the funds,
+for it will cost a large sum of money.  The house must be
+Glendale Parsonage, and I think Helen will be the lady;
+don't you, Roland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have no doubt of it; they are constantly engaged in
+the same good works, and seem just suited to each other;
+he so strong and self-reliant, she so gentle and dependent."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline had passed a happy day; and, on their return,
+Lavinia and Lucy were walking on the piazza.  There was
+something so tender in the manner of the young husband,
+as he lifted her from the carriage, and so confiding in the
+deep blue eyes of the wife, that Lavinia was full of
+wonder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I wonder how long the honeymoon will last," said Lavinia,
+as she observed the perfect reconciliation of the
+married pair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think for life, Lavinia," was Lucy's reply; "there are
+depths of love and earnest piety in both characters; and
+such links are not easily broken."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For my part, I don't believe in such romantic notions,
+Lucy; give me a handsome house and carriage, plenty of
+servants, and a long purse of money, with a comfortable,
+easy husband, who will let me take my path, and he choose
+his, and that is all that I care for."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline and her husband, seated in the library, were
+looking over some accounts connected with their charities;
+and, after an hour devoted to business, she took her seat
+on a low ottoman at Roland's feet; and leaning her head
+upon his knee, occasionally she looked up in his face, with
+the true love of a wife shining in her expressive eyes, while
+he laid his hand caressingly upon the soft brown hair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We are very happy, Roland," said the young wife, "and
+sometimes when I read of the discipline of God's children,
+I tremble lest it should be necessary to visit our nest of
+love."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We must never forget, my wife, that we are but pilgrims,
+seeking another, that is, a heavenly country; let our
+great object be to glorify God, to love him supremely, and
+then we can trust him with all our future.  Looking aloft! dear,
+always, through joy and through sorrow, that is the
+way to happiness and peace."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How different, Roland, is the bond that unites us, from
+the cold and selfish world! no wonder that there are so
+many wretched marriages, when so few are founded upon
+the holy principles of the Gospel.  Ah, how many, when
+days of indifference and neglect overtake them, sigh for a
+love that never existed!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If people would only study the epistles of the disciple
+whom Jesus loved, and form their heart unions from such
+high and holy sources, how different would be the loves
+and friendships of poor humanity!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And thus holy was the heart communion of this true
+union.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do not forget, Roland, to write to Stanley to-morrow,
+and bring him down with you next week to see the field of
+labor; it will be such a privilege to have a church of our
+own."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, dear, it is time for worship;" and Roland rang
+the bell which summoned his family to the library.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While he reverently read and expounded the Holy
+Scriptures, all listened with deep seriousness; Madeline
+always conducted the singing; and guests and servants
+felt the value of that banner of security thus daily spread
+over the family circle at Woodcliff.  Even Lavinia was
+obliged, much against her will, to pay the homage of deep
+respect to the character of Roland Bruce.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Eolian discoursed sweet music on that calm evening,
+as, arm in arm, Roland and Madeline stood near the
+open window.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edmund's visits to Woodcliff were much more frequent;
+a piece of music for Annot, an hour's private talk with
+Roland, or a book for Madeline, all served as so many pleas
+for weekly visits; until, at last, Edmund was always
+expected on Saturday night, to return with Roland, on
+Monday, to the city.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Tired of the frivolity of fashionable life, his heart turned
+with delight to the home-circle of his friend, and he often
+wondered if he should ever be blessed with such a happy
+household.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Annot had learned to listen for his footstep, and to blush
+when his hand was upon the door-knob; always ready
+with some new music, or a plate of especially choice fruit.
+Edmund gradually found that the lovely Scotch lassie
+was necessary to his happiness; and the heads of the
+family did not discourage the intimacy, for Roland knew
+his worth; had watched his progress, and saw the gleams
+of spiritual life as they developed themselves in his young
+protégé.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Therefore, when Edmund invited Annot to a walk on
+the piazza, to a ramble on the sea-shore, or by the placid
+lake, to an evening ride in the quiet lanes, there was no
+opposition; it rather pleased both husband and wife to see
+the dawn of a virtuous attachment, so elevating to the
+character of a young man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lavinia brought her visit to a close, for the tranquil
+pleasures and useful pursuits at Woodcliff did not suit the
+worldly tastes of her vitiated heart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stanley and Helen accompanied Roland on his next
+Saturday's return.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A long talk in the library between Roland and his friend
+about the parish seemed to have ended harmoniously; for
+after an early tea, the four took a ride to Glendale, for it
+was but a mile from Woodcliff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stanley was enraptured with the beautiful view from the
+hill-top, and Helen more quietly enjoyed the scene.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There, Mr. Stanley, will be a part of your parish," said
+Madeline, as she pointed to the numerous pleasant homes
+scattered in all directions from one to five or six miles
+distant; "many of these people go nowhere to church, and
+if we should plant one in their midst, I doubt not that we
+could soon raise a prosperous congregation; the good Bishop
+of our Diocese is very anxious for such an effort, for his
+family have a summer-cottage here; we have already about
+one hundred in regular attendance, and large numbers of
+summer residents could worship with us&mdash;we have a prosperous
+Sunday-school with twelve teachers, and a Parish
+school under the care of an excellent young person, Susan
+Grant."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stanley listened with deep interest
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The call seems inviting, Mrs. Bruce, and nothing would
+please me more than a home amidst just such a people;
+what do you say, Helen?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At this direct and sudden appeal she blushed deeply&mdash;for,
+as yet, only surmise had connected the two names.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think that it would suit you exactly, Mr. Stanley;
+this quiet, shady hill, looks so inviting to thought and
+study."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline could not resist the temptation as she whispered,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And you, dear Helen, for the pastor's good little wife."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sweet face was suffused with blushes, as she replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Would you advise it, Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"By all means, my dear girl; Stanley is the very
+companion for you, my little lily."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was all side-talk, while the gentlemen were engaged
+in conversation of a more practical character.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The end of the conference was that Stanley should enter
+at once upon his labors, and that active measures should
+be taken without delay towards the erection of a church.
+He preached on Sunday to quite a large congregation; and
+the manly, earnest character of his sermon, so full of the
+unction of a pure gospel, made a deep impression; Roland
+heard many saying as they left the school-room,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I wish that we could have him for our minister."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stanley soon came among them as their own pastor, and
+until his own home was ready he took up his abode at
+Woodcliff.  The church was quickly planned, an architect
+and builders upon the spot, and under the energetic
+perseverance of Roland and Stanley, it went forward rapidly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Daily did the character of Stephen Bruce's piety deepen;
+his mind would probably never regain its tone, for it had
+been shattered too long and powerfully for perfect restoration.
+He was very busy in riding daily to the church; for
+although of another sect, he was interested in all of
+Roland's plans, and reported daily progress, with all the
+simple-hearted pleasure of a child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Susan Grant, the little girl for whom Roland stood as
+the youthful champion, was now an excellent young woman,
+and had charge of the parish school, while Philip acted as
+librarian for the reading-room; and the affectionate
+daughter had actually lightened her dear mother's cares, and
+brightened her happy home, not, however, by gathering
+diamonds, but by scattering seeds of knowledge.  November
+was now approaching, and Madeline remembered her
+promise to Annot, that she should visit the city for a few
+weeks; accordingly, the three took up their abode at one
+of the best hotels.  Visiting all the celebrated places in and
+around New York, Annot was pleased for awhile, but her
+chief delight was in the happy evenings that she and
+Edmund could now spend together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the end of six weeks, Annot came to Madeline with
+a pleading look upon her face&mdash;"Shall we return to
+Woodcliff, dear?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am glad to hear you make the request, Annot, for I
+must be there by Christmas; and so you have seen enough
+of this great city, my dear, and love the quiet of the
+country yet?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Luve it, Madeline!  I dinna ken how I could e'er be
+happy in a great city.  Sic a bustle, an' sic a round o' folly,
+I ne'er could endure."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And what, then, will you and Edmund do?  You know
+his business is in New York."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Annot hung her pretty head, and blushed as she replied,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is nae positive bond between us, Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not that of devoted hearts, Annot?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I did na say that exactly; but it wud na be right to
+make an engagement o' that sort without Uncle Malcolm
+an' dear mother's consent."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have you ever written to them, dear, upon the subject?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, yes, Madeline!  I ne'er hae ony secrets frae them;
+they want us baith to wait until Edmund sees Uncle
+Malcolm.  I hae been here noo quite a year.  I canna gae
+hame alone.  In the spring, Mrs. Norris, Jessie, an'
+Edmund, are all going to Europe, an' I shall accompany
+them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have every prospect of happiness with Edmund
+Norris, but I don't know what Uncle Malcolm will say
+about parting with his darling niece."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is it na strange, Madeline, that I could feel willing to
+leave dear Uncle Malcolm, the guid friend o' a lifetime, an'
+my precious mother, who has luved me sae fondly, to come
+awa' wi' a stranger, that I hae only kenned intimately for
+one year? and yet I am willing; I could go ony where wi'
+Edmund, to the north or south pole.  Does it na seem
+amaist a shame, Madeline, to say sae?" and Annot blushed
+rosy red, as she hung her head down bashfully.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know all about that, Annot&mdash;it is not strange, dear,
+for does not the Bible say, that a 'man shall leave his father
+and mother, and cleave to his wife, and they twain shall be
+one flesh?' and it is just the same with the wife; so don't
+distress yourself, little dear; it is the ordering of our
+Father."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Christmas Eve at Woodcliff&mdash;what a bright, happy time!
+The parlors, library, dining and sitting rooms, are all dressed
+with evergreens, winter flowers and vases, in which the
+Scotch heather lifts its pretty purple flowers among brighter
+blossoms; and a table with a large white cover stands in
+the middle of the library, which has been most carefully
+locked for the last week.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the back parlor stands a Christmas tree (on the top
+of which rests the Christmas angel), hung with numberless
+little gifts, and decorated with red holly berries,
+lady-apples, colored glass globes, and a profusion of variegated
+wax candles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On a small table are spread piles of fancy covered books.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This has been the work of Madeline and Annot since
+their return from New York; interesting several families
+in the neighborhood, they have gathered together a large
+quantity of presents for the children of the Sunday-school.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They are determined to have a happy Christmas at Woodcliff.
+Early in the evening, the rooms are lit, and the ladies
+dressed.  Madeline, in Roland's favorite brown silk, with
+lace collar, and sleeves, with no ornaments save a branch
+of ivy leaves and scarlet berries in her hair, and a
+handsome carbuncle set, that her husband had presented&mdash;Annot,
+in a pale blue dress, with a delicate lace frill around
+the neck and sleeves, and a few white camelias in her
+golden ringlets, that hung so gracefully around her shoulders.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Standing in eager expectation near the window, they
+listened for the approach of their guests.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hear the carriage," said Madeline, for it had been sent
+to the station to bring the expected company.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Hastening out to the piazza, she welcomed her friends;
+Roland had brought out Edmund, with his mother and
+sister, and Helen Thornly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, this is beautiful, indeed!" said Roland, as he
+glanced around at the preparations.  "I think we Scotch
+people lose a great deal in not making more of this joyous
+season; but really, Madeline, have not the fairies been at
+work?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, dear, neither fairies nor angels have had anything
+to do with it, not even Santa Claus; human hands planned
+all."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know better, darling," whispered Roland; "a household
+angel has gathered these lovely flowers, and lit up
+this bright festival; my household angel, Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ladies were soon disrobed, and ready to join the
+cheerful party in the dining-room, where a genuine Christmas
+dinner was prepared.  After they had done full justice
+to the viands, Roland exclaimed, smiling,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And what is to be done with this Christmas tree? are
+we going back to the days of childhood, Madeline?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You'll see after a while," was the arch reply, as the
+folding doors were closed between the rooms.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a few minutes, the tramp of little feet on the piazza,
+and the buzz of children's voices, announced an arrival&mdash;ere
+they entered, the children, under the guidance of Philip
+and Susan Grant, sang a sweet Christmas carol.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were then admitted into the front parlor, and
+strange to behold were the large staring eyes, and open
+mouths of the wondering children, who had never seen
+such grandeur before!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A sweet Christmas hymn, sung by ladies' voices, was
+heard in the room beyond, and when the door suddenly
+opened, and the sight of the splendid tree, illuminated from
+top to bottom, burst upon them, they could no longer restrain
+their expressions of delight.  The girls clapped their
+hands, and the boys stamped their feet, as they exclaimed,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh! goody gracious!  I never saw anything like that!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Just see the heap of apples!" said one little girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Just look at that pretty doll!" said another.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look at them ere glass things!  I wonder what they are."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There's a gun!" said a boy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And there's a top!" said another; "and such a heap of
+things!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And there's a whole pile of books!" said another.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look at the bags of sugar-plums!" said a fat little
+urchin.  "Hurrah for the sugar-plums!" and the little
+fellow turned a summerset, and rolled over and over on
+the floor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After considerable trouble, they were all reduced to
+order, and Roland held a hat, and gave each child a card
+with a number on it.  Madeline took her stand by the
+tree; one by one she took down the gifts, and, calling out
+the number, each happy child came forward to receive the
+present.  Each child had also a bag of sugar-plums and a
+book to take home, and a large slice of Christmas cake for
+present enjoyment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, dear children," said Madeline, "we sent for you
+this morning to wish you all a happy Christmas.  This is
+the dear Saviour's birthday, when he came down to make
+children happy.  He gave a Christmas gift to all, and that
+was himself.  Now, because he was so full of love, the
+people who love Jesus want to do something like him,
+and so they give presents to their friends to show their
+love; each little gift that you have in your hands, my little
+ones, is a gift of love.  Now, if any of you have a sick
+brother or sister, or little friend, who could not come
+to-day, don't eat all your sugar-plums or cake, but save some
+for them to show that you love them.  The night that
+Jesus was born, the angels sang in the clouds over the
+plains of Judea; now let us sing our Christmas hymn,"
+and Annot played, while Madeline led the singing, in
+which all joined.
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  "While shepherds watched their flocks by night,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;All seated on the ground,<br>
+  The angel of the Lord came down,<br>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And glory shone around," &c.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>
+It was a happy company that hurried home that night
+through the sharp, frosty air, to tell about the wonderful
+tree, and the beautiful things at Woodcliff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Which was the happier? the little children, as they went
+home with their pretty gifts, or the young mistress of
+Woodcliff, who hung the Christmas tree to make them
+happy?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And now for Blue Beard's room," said Madeline, as
+she led the way to the library and unlocked the door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A bell summoned the household; and as she uncovered
+the table with a bright, beaming face, Roland looked upon
+his young wife, and felt that he was indeed a proud and
+happy man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now first, my lord and master, as a true and loyal
+wife," and Madeline spread out a beautiful wrapper made
+by her own hands, and, putting it on her husband, said&mdash;"Why
+it fits beautifully! it suits the library exactly; and
+here's a pair of the prettiest slippers, worked by Annot,
+and a cap and scarf for winter nights in the cars, by Aunt
+Matilda.  Now aren't you a rich man, sir? make your
+prettiest bow to the lady of the house, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As Roland obeyed the command in the most graceful
+manner, he whispered words that made Madeline's cheeks
+glow with innocent pleasure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A rich man, dearest!  I do not envy the richest man
+in Christendom, Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What did he say, Madeline?" said Edmund; "there
+must be none but public speeches to-night."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Just a little sweet flattery, Edmund; let me enjoy it,"
+and she threw her head slightly back, smiling archly on the
+speaker.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Bruce was particularly pleased with his nice wrapper
+from Madeline, and beautiful Bible with fine large print,
+and gold spectacles, from Roland; Aunt Matilda with her
+handsome breastpin from Madeline, and pretty watch from
+Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here's my offering, Madeline," said her husband, as he
+opened a small case, and produced an elegant watch and
+chatelaines; "your old watch is not so good as formerly,
+dear, and I have got the very best that New York could
+afford."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline looked a world of thanks.  Lastly, came the
+servants, who, one by one, advanced to receive their gifts
+from the hands of their beloved young mistress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Matilda was rapidly losing her prejudices against
+Roland; but, not willing to allow herself conquered, she
+attributed her change of manner to the conviction that he
+really was of gentle birth at last.  Without her consent,
+he was gaining daily complete ascendency even over her
+pride, yet she often wondered whether he were not more
+than he pretended.  One evening, seated together in the
+familiarity of family intercourse, Aunt Matilda turned
+suddenly to Roland, and said&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are you sure, Roland, that you are not distantly
+connected with the ancient Bruce?  I have often thought you
+must be; for you certainly could not have got your carriage
+and manners from the common classes.  Bruce and Gordon
+are grand names; I think that you must have had noble
+relatives in some of the branches."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland smiled, as he replied&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can you not believe, Aunt Matilda, that God can
+choose a vessel of common clay, and, by his grace, endow
+it with high qualities, if he pleases? or must all your ideal
+great men be of the purest porcelain?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I cannot help thinking, Roland, that there must have
+been some porcelain among them, even though you may
+not know it, or care for it if you do."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"All I can boast, Aunt Matilda, in the way of pedigree,
+is that my ancestors, as far back as I can trace them, were
+a hardy race of plain Scotch farmers, shepherds, and
+mountaineers, among whom were always found faithful, earnest
+ministers of the Lord Jesus; their greatness consisting
+only in heroic deeds of calm and patient endurance in the
+cause of truth and holiness."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline smiled archly, as she asked&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aunty, what great deeds have the noble Hamiltons
+ever achieved?  I have never heard of any.  I believe their
+grandeur consisted wholly in their birth, in spending lives
+of idleness, and wasting their fortunes&mdash;which, I believe,
+drove my grandfather to this country a poor man&mdash;and
+in passing away from the world without recording one of
+their names among those who wrought heroic deeds or
+benefited the human family.  Is it not so, aunty?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aunt Matilda was silent for a moment, but, with a
+mortified expression, said, at last&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You must allow that there is something in noble birth,
+Madeline."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not apart from goodness, aunty; for I have set up my
+husband against all such pretensions."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, you need not be telling everybody about Roland's
+birth, anyhow."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I certainly shall take no pains to conceal it, Aunt
+Matilda; I am too proud of Roland Bruce himself."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And so am I, Madeline; but I am not going to tell
+everybody about his early days."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Conquered at last!" said Madeline, laughing heartily,
+as Aunt Matilda left the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She cannot let go her prejudices, Madeline; but she is
+a very kind-hearted aunt to both of us."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the early spring, Annot returned to Scotland in
+company with the Norrises; she was sorely missed at
+Woodcliff, but warmly welcomed by Uncle Malcolm and
+Mrs. Lindsay, who could not but realize that she was greatly
+improved by her sojourn with Madeline.  It was a sore
+trial to the good man to resign his beloved niece to any
+one, especially to one living in a foreign land; but, true to
+his noble character, seeking the happiness of those he loved,
+he said&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Take her Edmund, she is yours; but ye maun leave
+her with us a year ere ye claim her hand, and visit us as
+often as ye can."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know the sacrifice, dear Mr. Graham, but you need
+not fear to trust your darling to me; we are all in all to
+each other, and, I trust, humbly desire to live for a better
+world."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I canna separate young hearts, Edmund; I know the
+pang, and can ne'er inflict it on another."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A pleasant visit of a few months, daily increased Uncle
+Malcolm's respect for Edmund Norris, and he felt before he
+left Graham Hall, that in him he had found another dear
+son.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do not think that I shall always lead a city life, dear sir;
+our tastes are for the country, and as soon as it can be
+possible, that shall be our permanent home."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Would that it could be in Scotland, Edmund; I should
+be so happy to have ye with me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is a subject for future thought, dear sir; my mother's
+wishes must be consulted."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The young pair bade farewell with the sweet hope of
+meeting again; but O, how long! for one whole year! and
+what might not happen?  How many hearts have asked
+the same sad question?
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap31"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+<br><br>
+REUNION.
+</h3>
+
+<p>
+The church is finished&mdash;old Mr. Bruce is delighted, for
+he fancies that he has had much to do with its completion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stanley is settled as the pastor, and ministers with great
+acceptance.  The day has arrived for its opening, the
+ringing of the bell summons the worshippers from all quarters;
+and Madeline, with her bright and happy face, has taken
+charge of the choir, and sweet is the music which from
+grateful hearts rolls through the solemn edifice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the close of the first Sabbath evening, the family of
+Woodcliff are gathered in the drawing-room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How many do you number among your communicants,
+Stanley?" asked Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"About eighty," was the reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You may record me as another, Stanley, for as the head
+of a family, there must be no division in that important
+matter; and I can be very happy in worshipping with
+you, my dear friend, in your own solemn and holy forms of
+worship."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, dear Roland," said the wife, "this is so
+pleasant to have you with me as a fellow-communicant;
+we have been for a long time fellow-pilgrims, but this
+outward union is peculiarly gratifying."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You must make some allowances, dear, for my still liking
+a good old-fashioned doctrinal sermon, even if it is pretty
+long; and therefore, father and I must go once a day to the
+church of our ancestors, for that is all that I have to remind
+me of good old Scotland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Certainly, dear Roland, and I shall go with you; good
+Mr. Stewart and I have always been the very best of
+friends; he is on excellent terms with our own pastor, for
+he is one of God's dear people, and I love him as such."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline is very happy, for she is busy in fitting up the
+pretty parsonage of Glendale; as soon as the finishing
+touch shall be given, Helen will take her place there, as
+the pastor's gentle wife.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Early in the autumn, the preparations were completed,
+and Stanley has brought his bride to the pleasant home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What a beautiful study!" said Helen, as she looked
+around at the neat furniture; "such a complete table for a
+minister! such a pretty book-case! and so well filled! such
+a comfortable lounge! and cosy rocking-chair!  I really
+think, husband, that I shall often bring my work here, when
+you are not too much occupied."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will be welcome any day after twelve o'clock,
+Helen; for I must be alone until then.  I have a system
+to live by.  In the afternoon we shall ride out to visit my
+people, for I must make you acquainted with the humblest."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What a happy work is ours, dear husband! laboring
+together for that blessed kingdom which is to prevail upon
+the earth, and at last to sit down at the marriage-supper of
+the Lamb."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the appointed time, Edmund brought home his young
+Scottish bride, and settled in New York for the winter,
+spending their summers near Woodcliff; Annot retaining
+her connection with the church of her fathers, but often
+worshipping at Calvary, with the friends that she loved so
+well.
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+* * * * * * *
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ten years have passed&mdash;their rolling cycles bringing the
+changing seasons&mdash;spring, with its fresh young buds of
+life, summer with its ripening fruits, autumn with its fading
+glories ready to drop into the lap of winter; nursed tenderly
+through the night of nature, until the children of another
+spring proclaim their joyous advent, by the swelling
+buds, the winged songsters, the smiling skies, the music
+of babbling brooks, and balmy breath of the resurrection
+season.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This, without the walls of Woodcliff&mdash;within also, there
+is growth, harmony with the visible works of the Divine
+renovator.  The little seed planted so long ago by feeble
+boyish hands has germinated; often seeming almost lifeless;
+hidden from the light and the sun, but not from the great
+husbandman, who has watched its mysterious life.  First
+the little sprout, then the delicate leaflets so tender and
+faintly green, then the stronger plant.  Thus hath it been
+with the spiritual world at Woodcliff&mdash;the Divine workman
+invisible, the work so silent, yet so powerful!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest
+the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh,
+and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the
+Spirit."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The changing culture appointed each day, each hour,
+each minute, on to the very latest breath of mortal life, by
+the great husbandman of immortal fruits.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Under the eye of the glorious three, the silent, wondrous
+work is going on.  The <i>Father</i>, planning the scheme of
+man's redemption; the <i>Son</i>, executing it by sacrifice of
+himself; the <i>Spirit</i>, with his powerful breath vivifying the
+sleeping germs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And then the glorious harvest, when the reapers come
+to gather in the sheaves!  O, blessed day of jubilee, when
+Jesus comes!  There has been but little of the discipline
+of sorrow thus far in the life of Madeline.  That refining
+process was deemed best for Roland in his early days&mdash;now,
+a long season of sunshine hath succeeded, and the
+deeper incisions of grafting and pruning are reserved for
+future years.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Blessed are they who wait in patience on the hand of
+the wise and loving cultivator!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ten years have passed over husband and wife, each year
+deepening and purifying their love.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Each anniversary of her wedding day, Madeline has
+learned to look under her pillow for some sweet token of
+affection.  A faithful likeness of himself, finely set, a handsome
+pin with his mother and sister's hair, a rich diamond ring,
+with united initials engraved within the circlet, and various
+other dear mementoes, have marked each returning wedding
+day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Three lovely children are added to the domestic circle;
+Malcolm Graham, a boy of seven, Mary Gordon, a child
+of five, and Lilian, a sweet prattler of three years, fill the
+halls of Woodcliff with their merry voices.  One lovely
+boy, their little Lewis, sleeps in the quiet cemetery, and the
+infant spirit has formed another tie to beckon the parents
+heavenward.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another anniversary morning has arrived, and the pictures
+of her household darlings greet Madeline on her first
+awaking.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is indeed a treasure!" said the happy wife, "how
+perfect is the likeness! you could have given me nothing
+that can please me better! and now, dear, here is my own
+little keep-sake for this happy day," and Madeline produced
+a beautiful miniature of herself, in the bloom of her ripe
+womanhood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ten years, Madeline, have passed, and I can say truly
+'how much the wife is dearer than the bride,'" and Roland
+fondly kissed the sweet lips, and calm, pure forehead, of
+the one he loved so well.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stephen Bruce grows cheerful in the society of his
+grand-children, and seems to be renewing his youth among these
+dear prattlers; his piety is becoming more and more
+simple-hearted, more like that of a little child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland is daily growing more influential; and
+notwithstanding his high principles of integrity, after a few years,
+there is found virtue enough to send him to the Senate of
+the United States, and Aunt Matilda is becoming quite
+reconciled that Madeline should be the wife of a Senator.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At Washington in winter, Madeline is too truly a mother
+to leave her children at Woodcliff, and too faithful, as a wife,
+to part from her husband; consequently, the house is left
+under the care of a housekeeper, and the family-circle take
+up their abode at the capital.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madeline's attractions draw around her a number of admirers,
+who are anxious to bring her into their circle as a
+new star; but devoted to her calling as wife and mother,
+she simply returns the calls of the leaders of fashion, and
+resolutely avoids the frivolity of the giddy world.  Aunt
+Matilda is sadly chagrined, for she had anticipated
+Madeline's triumphs with great exultation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I cannot consent, dear aunt, to such a life," replied the
+wife to her remonstrances; "if I were running this round
+of folly, what would become of my household darlings?"
+and steadily, she pursued the quiet tenor of her beautiful
+life.  Occasionally, she accepted invitations to
+dinner-parties, always being there the centre of attraction.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One pleasure she felt that she must indulge in, for
+whenever she knew that her husband was to speak in Congress,
+Madeline was always one of the most attentive listeners
+to his eloquence, ever on the side of the right, the true
+the good.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What were you musing about this morning, Madeline?"
+said her husband; "I saw you in the gallery surrounded by
+so many ladies, all busily engaged in conversation, and you
+in such a deep brown study."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She smiled as he replied, "I was thinking, Roland, about
+my childish days; and was seated in memory by the lake
+at Woodcliff, when tired of playing with my gold-fish, I
+used to amuse myself by throwing in pebbles, and watching
+the little circles, as they widened in their course, until
+I could trace them no longer.  I thought, Roland, of the
+boy on the shore at Woodcliff; I saw you just as you stood
+that day when first I met you; I traced all your course,
+comparing it to the little pebble thrown carelessly into the
+lake, drawing one circle of influence round the spoiled
+child at Woodcliff, then beyond, at college, another round
+Norris and Stanley, then around Helen Thornly, another
+around my dear father through your own sister Effie,
+then a broader, wider circle, embracing the poor,
+neglected news-boys of New York, and encircling Woodcliff;
+and now a broader still around the country that you serve,
+until I am lost in wonder, and can trace it no farther; truly
+human influence is a wonderful agent, and we ought both
+to exclaim 'What hath God wrought!'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How little did we know, dear wife, of the power of my
+mother's blessed words, when she bade me 'Look aloft;' I
+listened to them, then, as simply comforting; I have learned
+since how they have guided my path as a beacon light, to
+beckon me onward."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A servant entered, interrupting the conversation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mr. Bruce, a gentleman wishes to see you," and Roland
+entering the parlor, is greeted by the fast friend of his
+college days, Dr. Kingsley.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How are you, my son?" said the good man, as he
+heartily shook Roland's hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I came to congratulate you on your success to-day, for
+I was in the Senate Chamber and heard your speech; I
+cannot tell how my old heart swelled with pride as I
+listened, and remembered you, Roland, as one of my sons.
+I always knew that you would leave your mark upon the
+world, and do honor to your Alma Mater."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can never cease to thank you, Dr. Kingsley; for had
+you turned me away, I had no other resource."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And then, Roland, the world would have lost a noble
+laborer in the cause of all that is good and true."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will not reject other poor aspirants, my good
+friend, for there are many struggling spirits who need just
+such a hand as yours to guide, and such a heart to sympathize."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Introducing his old friend to Madeline, an hour's pleasant
+intercourse closed the interview, with a cordial invitation
+to the good man to visit them at Woodcliff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Congress will adjourn to-morrow night," said Roland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then for dear Woodcliff," answered Madeline; "are
+you not glad, father?" turning to old Mr. Bruce.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, indeed, there is sae much that needs my care, an'
+I am tired o' this noisy, bustling place; but I am glad that
+I came; for I canna be separated frae the bonnie darlings."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Immediately on the close of the session, they turned
+their faces homeward, and a joyful party met once more
+around the domestic fireside.  The winter curtains were
+yet up, for it was cold and cheerless out of doors, and a
+warm fire and cheerful supper greeted them, with Stanley
+and his wife ready to welcome them home again.  The
+next morning, Roland came in from the library with the
+delightful news, that Uncle Malcolm and Aunt Lindsay
+were coming to pay a visit to America.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The best room shall be prepared for dear Uncle Malcolm,"
+said Madeline, and she busied herself in making
+ready for the good old friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They will be here in three weeks, at the farthest," said
+Roland, "and we must have a nice lounge, and rocking-chair
+put in his room, plenty of books, and a secretary; for
+Uncle Malcolm could not be happy without his usual pursuits."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Annot was sent for, with her husband, and two sweet
+children, little Roland and Anna, the one five, the other
+three years old.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can scarcely wait," said the anxious daughter, "for it
+is seven years since I hae seen my mother."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One evening Roland arrived from New York with the
+news that the steamer was below.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They will be here to-morrow or next day," was the
+answer to Annot's anxious questions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Merry as a kitten, she was never tired of telling her
+little ones that Grandma and Uncle Malcolm were coming.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Old Mr. Bruce and his grandchildren were playing on
+the front lawn&mdash;little Malcolm driving his sister Lilian in
+a small carriage; and grandfather amusing himself by
+keeping close to their side, to keep them from danger.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Suddenly, Mary cried out,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There comes the carriage!" and the little girls ran
+rapidly into the house with the news; while Malcolm,
+holding his grandfather's hand, stood in anxious expectation
+of the arrival.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The carriage stops&mdash;Annot is folded in the arms of her
+dear mother, and Uncle Malcolm grasps warmly the
+extended hands of Roland and Madeline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Welcome a thousand times to Woodcliff, dear uncle!"
+exclaims Roland; and Stephen Bruce also advances with a
+timid step, but placid smile, to greet the new comers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What little boy is this?" asks the good man, as he lays
+his hand on the head of Roland's son, standing by anxious
+to be noticed by the stranger.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is Malcolm Graham," answered the happy father.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Graham changed countenance, and whispered,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How came this, Roland?  I aye thought it strange that
+ye did na name him Stephen."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My father named the boy himself."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Uncle Malcolm smiled gratefully at this token of entire
+forgetfulness of the painful past, and lifting the dear child
+in his arms, kissed him fondly, as he laid the hand of
+blessing on his dark brown hair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While Madeline is presenting her other darlings, Annot's
+eyes are moistened with happy tears, as she leads little
+Roland and Anna up to their grandma and uncle, who
+pronounce them "darling pets," and the proud young
+mother is full of innocent delight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Changes have taken place in all the party&mdash;ten years
+have added many silver hairs to Malcolm Graham's noble
+head, but to him they are indeed a crown of glory.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Lindsay is stouter and more matronly&mdash;Madeline
+has exchanged the bewitching charms of young girlhood
+for the ripe beauty of a queenly woman, retaining still the
+brightness and vivacity of early youth, and the arch
+expression of her lovely face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roland is a noble man of thirty-seven, with a fine,
+commanding figure, the same dark eagle eye, and sweet
+expressive smile of benevolence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Annot is no more the lovely child, with her wealth of
+golden ringlets falling round her face and shoulders; but
+the blooming wife in the first flush of sweet young
+womanhood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Seated between the two, Uncle Malcolm takes the hand
+of each, saying,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here are baith my daughters! well, ye are making
+Uncle Malcolm an auld mon, wi' yer bairns skipping
+around me; but I hope that my heart will ne'er grow old."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will never grow old in feeling, uncle," said
+Madeline; "and we are so happy to have you with us; but
+you must be tired; come, Annot, let us show Uncle his
+room."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Each taking an arm, they led him to his pleasant chamber;
+Annot retiring with her mother, and Madeline busying
+herself about Uncle Malcolm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here is a warm winter wrapper, and a pair of chamber
+slippers; I knew that you would like them, uncle."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The old gentleman sat down in his comfortable chair;
+and, looking around on all the arrangements of his room,
+with the bright fire lighting up the whole, said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, Madeline! this is comfort! ye will spoil the auld
+mon among ye."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No danger, dear uncle," as she kissed the calm
+forehead; "we can never do too much for you, for are you not
+my husband's dearest, warmest friend?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sweet was the incense of gratitude and praise that
+ascended from the family altar that night, as Uncle Malcolm
+led the devotions, and Madeline conducted the singing of
+the hymn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The next morning, after breakfast, Uncle Malcolm called
+Roland aside, and said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Tak' me to the spot most sacred in America;" and,
+alone, they proceeded, with solemn step, to the cemetery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Standing at the foot of his mother's grave, the strong
+man stood for some minutes in silence, reading the
+inscription on the humble tomb-stone; then Uncle Malcolm,
+overpowered by the floods of sad and touching memories, lifted
+up his voice, and wept aloud.  Roland stood with his arm
+around the old man, and whispered,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We must not mourn for her, dear uncle, a blessed spirit
+around the throne."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I dinna, Roland; but I could na but feel how happy I
+should hae made her; how I wad hae sheltered her frae
+the rough world; for while I was enjoying a' that wealth
+could gie, my puir Mary was suffering years o' penury an'
+toil."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is past, dear uncle; through all her trials she enjoyed
+the peace of God, which passeth all understanding; and
+there is the blessed hope of reunion; do you not think that
+we shall know each other in the better land?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do, my son, confidently hope to meet that blessed
+spirit, purified an' full o' holy love, where there shall be nae
+mair parting; while I live, Roland, I shall luve her memory,"
+(and he took out of his pocket-book once more the lock
+of golden hair,) "that must be buried wi' me, Roland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+None asked where Uncle Malcolm had been, for the serious
+and tender expression that dwelt upon his face, and
+softened the tones of his voice throughout the day, spoke
+volumes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Interested in all the benevolent schemes around Woodcliff,
+Malcolm rode out with Roland; and, with a full heart,
+listened to the account of all their plans for good.  On
+Sunday he attended the church at Glendale; and as he
+listened to the Christian statesman, seated so humbly before
+his large class of young men, he could not but bless God
+for the grace which had so faithfully directed the footsteps
+of this good steward of his Master's gifts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As he watched the earnest look, the respectful reverence,
+the deep interest of the youth who surrounded Roland, he
+rejoiced in the inward conviction that none of this good seed
+would fall to the ground unblessed; and many a tale of
+sacred influence and private benevolence reached the ears
+of Uncle Malcolm in his private visits among the people
+of Woodcliff, for Roland was not one to blazon his own good
+deeds.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We hae had a blessed day!" said the good man, at the
+close of a Sabbath-day at Woodcliff; "what a holy
+privilege we hae enjoyed in worshipping a common Saviour!"
+for they had attended on the services of each church, and
+had heard faithful discourses from both ministers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Stanley seems a maist devoted mon," said Uncle Malcolm,
+"how meikle o' Christ there is in his sermons!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, that is the secret of his success; while he does
+not neglect nor undervalue the scaffolding of the Christian
+church, the whole power of his ministry is to lead sinners
+to build their hopes upon the corner-stone, Christ Jesus our
+Lord."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It seems to me, Roland, when the heart is filled with
+luve to the Master, an' a sense o' the danger o' immortal
+souls, men canna spend their time in preaching sae meikle
+on these minor things.  I hae felt, syne I hae been amang
+ye, perfect communion o' spirit, for I hae heard naught but
+Jesus, an' him crucified."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have often thought, dear uncle, how sweet is this
+communion of saints!  How blessed is the feeling that
+every Sunday so many pilgrims are worshipping the dear
+Redeemer in the great cathedrals of vast cities, and the
+lowly temples of the village lanes of good old England; the
+solemn worship of its ancient church mingles with that of
+its American child, throughout the length and breadth of
+this vast country; while the prayers and hymns of Christians
+mingle daily from the hills of Scotland, and the green
+island of the shamrock.  All over the world the songs of
+pilgrims, on their heavenward march, roll up to Heaven;
+and, dear uncle, when you are in Scotland, we can still
+commune in spirit; you, in your fathers' venerable church,
+and we in the one we love."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Tis a vera holy bond, Roland, an' wae be to the Christian
+who can allow bigotry or intolerance to chill sic holy
+worship."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Let us never forget, dear uncle, the tie of Christian
+brotherhood as the dearest and purest of all earthly
+bonds."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I could na bear to think o' parting, my son, if I did na
+realize this sacred bond o' union."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Many such hours of hallowed intercourse were spent
+between these two noble spirits, so elevated above the
+common masses of humanity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Little Malcolm is a child of promise; and the parents are
+teaching diligently the first great lesson of obedience to
+their children; not a day passes without its lessons: "Line
+upon line, precept upon precept," looking upward for God's
+blessing, both parents train their dear children in paths of
+obedience, truth and love.  Little Mary is a gentle, loving
+child; but Lilian is a repetition of Madeline, happily under
+the controlling influence of wise and loving guidance.
+Aunt Clara is daily ripening for the skies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lavinia, the same vain, frivolous devotee of fashion, no
+longer young, still unmarried, is rapidly becoming that
+most unhappy of all miserable beings, a censorious and
+disappointed old maid.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The declining years of Stephen Bruce are calm and tranquil;
+surrounded by a family who encircle him with tender,
+affectionate reverence, his latter days are his best; and he
+is passing on to "the rest that remaineth," full of calm
+unshaken trust in his Saviour.  Stanley has gathered round
+him a devoted flock; and Helen is the happy wife of a
+tender husband, the mother of a lovely family, the helper of
+her husband's labors; sharing in his cares and sorrows, as
+well as in his joys.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Glendale is a blessed sanctuary, and Calvary Church the
+centre of a holy influence in the midst of the homes of
+Woodcliff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Harry and Charles have not learned wisdom yet, for
+their youth was one of folly, and they are reaping the fruits,
+in advancing years, of uselessness and discontent; affections
+withered, intellects wasting, time flying, and their Lord
+coming for his reckoning&mdash;such is the life of thousands&mdash;who
+can bear to read their everlasting destiny?  "Cast ye
+the unprofitable servant into outer darkness."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Uncle Malcolm's visit is drawing to an end, and he seeks
+an occasion of private conference with Edmund.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My son, I feel as if I canna gae hame wi'out ye and
+Annot; I am growing auld, Edmund, an' the cares o' life
+begin to weigh heavily upon me; why na move yer family
+to Scotland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It would be just the life that I should love, Uncle
+Malcolm; for years I have longed for the country.  I am
+not calculated for commercial pursuits, and I know that
+Annot would only be too happy to be once more in her
+dear old home; there is but one difficulty&mdash;my mother
+would so mourn over the separation."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hae enow to occupy us baith, Edmund; an' there are
+sae mony openings for usefu'ness, I am sure that we should
+be happy together.  Then I am anxious that Annot's
+bairns should be trained in Scotland, for their inheritance
+will be there."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edmund spoke to Annot on the subject.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can it be, dear Edmund?  I hae sae langed for a return
+to my ain land, an' I agree perfectly wi' Uncle Malcolm
+that Scotland is the hame for our bairns."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Lindsay most earnestly added her influence, and
+Mrs. Norris, convinced that it was for Edmund's worldly
+prosperity, finally consented.  American friends were pained
+to miss the dear faces of Annot's family from among their
+circle, but both Roland and Madeline saw that it was right.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Uncle Malcolm had learned to love his little namesake,
+and, on the evening before their departure, took the child
+into his own room, and, after warm, affectionate counsels,
+prayed with the dear boy for God's blessing on his childhood
+and his youth.  Going to his secretary, he brought
+out a handsome rosewood writing-desk, completely furnished.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This, my boy, is frae Uncle Malcolm; as soon as ye
+are auld enow, I hope that ye will mak guid use o' it.
+Ye will find i' the stable, too, a dear little pony that I hae
+bought for my namesake to ride; he is quite safe, an' papa
+will teach ye how to ride; ye maun ca' him Selim, after
+mamma's pony."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, dear good Uncle Malcolm; I'll try to be a
+good boy, and then you won't be sorry for these gifts," and
+the boy kissed the good old man again and again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Going down stairs, he called the little girls to his side.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Noo, Mary, what do ye think that Uncle Malcolm has
+for his bonnie lassie?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know just what I want, uncle."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is it, my bairn? dinna be afraid to tell."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I want a pretty baby-house, uncle, for Lilian and me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Uncle Malcolm smiled pleasantly, and, taking the hands
+of the little girls, led them into the library, and there was
+the sweetest baby-house, entirely furnished with such a
+handsome outfit, and, seated on chairs in another part of
+the room, two beautiful dolls from Aunt Lindsay.  They
+were quite beside themselves; Mary in quiet wonder, and
+Lilian skipping about the room in ecstasy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Noo, mamma, I hae only ane request to mak, an' that
+is, should these little lassies quarrel aboot these gifts,
+please deprive them o' their use for ane whole month; but
+I hope that they will na be sae naughty."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Both the children thanked good Uncle Malcolm, and,
+kissing each other, made faithful promises not to dispute
+about the pretty gifts.  The day of parting had arrived;
+always painful, but doubly so now, as it removed a dear
+family from the midst of this circle of friends, with but
+little prospect of meeting again on this side of the better
+land.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God bless ye! my ain dear children," said Uncle Malcolm,
+as he laid his hand upon the heads of Roland and
+Madeline; "let us aye remember the precious words o' our
+departed saint, 'Looking aloft,'" and tears trembled in the
+eyes of the good man as he tenderly repeated the blessed
+words.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The carriage drove off with a tearful company, and
+Roland, kissing the lips and encircling the wife with his
+sustaining arm, led her in to the library.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is life, dear Madeline; there must be partings
+here.  Reunion, lasting and eternal, must be beyond this
+mortal shore."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Life still rolls on at Woodcliff.  Roland and Madeline
+have not yet reached the perfection of existence; but, as
+far as mortals can, theirs is truly living&mdash;living that life on
+earth which shall be perfected hereafter in the kingdom
+that is coming.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+'Tis true that these are the creations of fiction&mdash;ideal
+man and woman&mdash;but let none say that such can never
+dwell in mortal flesh.  Christ came to make such.  There
+is not one trait exhibited here, but is commanded in the
+Gospel, and from which can be drawn grace to form just
+such characters upon the earth.  Such monuments of
+grace have walked the earth like angels, and such there
+will be again; for there is a time coming, when the world
+will be filled with such lively stones, in the glorious temple
+that shall hereafter be erected on the earth.  Why should
+not she who writes, and they who read, seek to be one of
+these highly-polished living stones?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+'Tis true that to mortal vision, this blessed kingdom
+does not <i>seem</i> very near; for throughout the world are
+sounds of war, and tumult, and confusion; man slaying his
+brother man on many fields of combat, and the sweet dove
+of peace and love <i>far, far</i> away; but there are yet some
+left on earth in whose bosoms dwell, by bright anticipations,
+the spirit of the millennium; above this strife and
+tumult, dwelling in a world of their own, with folded hands,
+uplifted eyes, and hearts whose pulsations are one eternal
+prayer.  Precious witnesses for the kingdom of peace, and
+love, and holiness, yet to come!  To come!  Blessed be
+God! to come!  And this little pilgrim band whom we
+have followed so long, still "Looking aloft," and seeing
+Him who is invisible, may confidently look for that
+everlasting glorious kingdom.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Looking aloft!" blessed talisman against the spirit of
+worldliness, selfishness, and strife of every kind!  "Looking
+aloft!"  It inspired Noah when sheltered safely in the
+ark, calm and happy amidst the overwhelming deluge of
+wrath.  It calmed the trusting heart of holy Daniel in the
+den of lions, stilling their angry growls, and closing their
+bloodthirsty jaws.  It sustained David in the hour of his
+darkest trials, and, centuries ago, inspired those sublime
+Psalms of holy confidence which multitudes still sing in
+their pilgrimage as they are marching home.  It wakened
+the songs of triumph in the prison of Paul and Silas, and
+cheered the great apostle beneath the uplifted axe of the
+bloody Nero.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It lit up smiles of joy and peace upon the faces of that
+holy band of martyrs who were stoned, sawn asunder, and
+burned at the fiery stake, when even woman's earnest eye
+and childhood's tender glance were turned calmly upward
+to the glorious Saviour; and from the stake and the block
+the martyr's gaze of faith pierced the heavens, as, "Looking
+aloft," they saw Him who is invisible.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Blessed talisman! sufficient for those dark and stormy
+days, it is enough for all life's woes, and cares, and sorrows.
+It hath sustained Roland Bruce in the days of poverty,
+trial, and bereavement; and hath brought him into the
+quiet waters of usefulness, peace, and love, with "the
+promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to
+come" all fulfilled.  Hand in hand with the chosen partner
+of his joys and sorrows, we bid them both farewell; with
+the certainty that such a union will be peaceful and blessed
+while they tread life's changing scenes, and, in the world
+to come, will be crowned by blissful, eternal reunion, so
+long as their motto, beaming from the pole-star of hope,
+remains "LOOKING ALOFT."
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+THE END.
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="transnote">
+[Transcriber's note: there are several instances of
+Madeline taking off, or putting on, her "flat".
+It's unknown if a flat is a type of hat, or if
+it's a typographical error for "hat".
+All instances have been left as printed.]
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br><br></p>
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76570 ***</div>
+</body>
+
+</html>
+
+
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+(https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/76570)