Rose Hardy's Home.

"Saturday is a busy day," she said, "so, maybe, I shan't see you again before you go, so I'll say good-bye to you, Master Welch."

But Miles was not taken in by her little pretence; he looked up in her face with a smile that sent all her vexation and dignity out of her in a minute.

"I've a deal to say to you too, Rosey, by-and-bye."

She did not seem so busy as she had said, when she went upstairs, for she sat there idle, with hands clasped in her lap, listening to the two voices downstairs, the old feeble one, and the young strong one; she could hear the tones, though not the words. How could she work, with the thought of the "deal to say" that Miles had in store for her. At last the talk seemed to be at an end, and she heard Master Hawthorne's voice calling her. She would not answer at first, that they might think her busy, but when at last she came to the head of the stairs, and answered, he bid her put on her bonnet and walk a little way with Miles, "and don't be long, for he has to catch the train.”

When in a few minutes the two set out, they walked on side by side for some time in silence, till they were at the stile leading into the lane. Then Miles stopped, told her that old Master Hawthorne's words about his wasting his life in idleness had touched him up, and made him uncomfortable, and that he had made up his mind to find something to do, and to do it, and that just as he was looking about, an uncle of his, a sheep-farmer in Australia, had written to ask him to come out and help him. "It's a fine opening, Rosey, and he's making a mint of money, and then, in his letter, he says, 'if you bring out a wife with you, so much the better,' says he. And I'm going, Rose, as soon as I can get ready, and I've come to ask you to come with me?" And then he painted their life out there in a new country; they two together, working their way on, and meeting joys and troubles always hand in hand. And Rose stood silent, listening with shining eyes and parted lips, as if she could see the scene that he laid before her. Surely the temptation was great, to turn her back on all that was dull and wearisome and vexatious in the old life, and go forth with Miles to new, bright scenes, where his love and presence would make endless summer..

"I've been careless and idle, Rosey, but, with such a wife, I'll be another fellow altogether. And the master says as you may come, for I asked him first, and he told me to settle it all with you this morning. So you've only to say 'yes,' and it's all settled."

Still she was silent, and he stopped waiting for her answer, and looking on her face, on which a trouble and perplexity had taken the place of the glad, wondering interest of a minute ago. For a moment she was silent. Then she turned from him, and looked across to the old mill. "No, Miles," she said, "I mustn't leave the old master who's been so good to me."

He tried coaxing first, she had always been easy to talk round, and he thought it would not be hard now, but she stuck to her resolution. "He's been so good to me, I can't leave him." Then he got angry, and accused her of not caring for him, of playing fast and loose with him, and she stood silent, with clasped hands

rung in her ears, some of his earnest, lively faith in God's presence and love seemed to have entered her own heart. She went to the window, and putting back the little curtain, and opening the lattice, she leant out into the darkness. The rain had ceased, but the rose leaves were still dripping, and cool drops fell on her hot forehead; and then, kneeling by the window, she spoke out what was in her heart, and asked God to give her back Miles Welch ; and as she asked, the clouds broke, and a ray of moonlight came through, as if in token that her prayer was heard.

The same moonlight, passing through the other window, fell on the old man's white head as he prayed. His heart was yearning to be at rest, but still he left it to God's good pleasure. "Gather me to Thy rest, O Lord, when Thou wilt, and as Thou wilt, only without sin and shame."

He prayed that God's will-she, that her own will might be done; but both prayed, not merely said their prayers, and before we judge her, let us look back on our own cold, heartless words, and there are few, indeed, who need not say with a good man of old, "Lord, pardon our prayers."

CHAPTER VIII.

THE next morning Rose awoke with a pleasant feeling at her heart, that she had not known for long, and she went about her work with a lighter heart, and found herself singing quite gaily, as she tossed the barley to the hungry fowls, who came flying and running to the old wicket. The farmer, too, seemed more lively, and cheerful, and they sat at breakfast in a very pleasant humour. They were talking of a day they had long planned in Medington, when Rose was to drive the old mare, and they were to go and see a friend of the master's who lived there. They were talking of this, when suddenly the words faded off Rose's lips, for a step she knew well was coming up the path. Then came a hasty knock, and before either could say, "Come in," Miles Welch was there.

"I daresay you thought I was never coming back, Master Hawthorne," Miles said, "but my plans are a good bit altered since I was here, and I thought I would look in and talk matters over with you."

Always glad to see you, lad, whenever you like to come. But we thought you'd forgotten old friends, didn't we, Rosey?"

"Ay, that we did," the girl answered, blushing as she spoke; "we'd have forgotten you too, maybe, soon."

66

'Ay, that's the way with absent friends," Miles said; "but, Rose," he went on, more earnestly, "I've something to talk to the master of, and, maybe, you're busy, so, if you'll let me and him have a chat together, it will be best."

Rose got up quickly. "I've plenty to do, never fear," she said; "it's not likely I'd stop here wasting my time listening to gossip.'

She tossed her head, and tried to make as if she did not care, but she was vexed and angry with him; he had been away so long, and yet he almost bid her go away the minute he came.

Rose Hardy's Home.

"Saturday is a busy day," she said, "so, maybe, I shan't see you again before you go, so I'll say good-bye to you, Master Welch."

But Miles was not taken in by her little pretence; he looked up in her face with a smile that sent all her vexation and dignity out of her in a minute.

"I've a deal to say to you too, Rosey, by-and-bye."

She did not seem so busy as she had said, when she went upstairs, for she sat there idle, with hands clasped in her lap, listening to the two voices downstairs, the old feeble one, and the young strong one; she could hear the tones, though not the words. How could she work, with the thought of the "deal to say" that Miles had in store for her. At last the talk seemed to be at an end, and she heard Master Hawthorne's voice calling her. She would not answer at first, that they might think her busy, but when at last she came to the head of the stairs, and answered, he bid her put on her bonnet and walk a little way with Miles," and don't be long, for he has to catch the train."

When in a few minutes the two set out, they walked on side by side for some time in silence, till they were at the stile leading into the lane. Then Miles stopped, told her that old Master Hawthorne's words about his wasting his life in idleness had touched him up, and made him uncomfortable, and that he had made up his mind to find something to do, and to do it, and that just as he was looking about, an uncle of his, a sheep-farmer in Australia, had written to ask him to come out and help him. "It's a fine opening, Rosey, and he's making a mint of money, and then, in his letter, he says, 'if you bring out a wife with you, so much the better,' says he. And I'm going, Rose, as soon as I can get ready, and I've come to ask you to come with me?" And then he painted their life out there in a new country; they two together, working their way on, and meeting joys and troubles. always hand in hand. And Rose stood silent, listening with shining eyes and parted lips, as if she could see the scene that he laid before her. Surely the temptation was great, to turn her back on all that was dull and wearisome and vexatious in the old life, and go forth with Miles to new, bright scenes, where his love and presence would make endless summer. ·

"I've been careless and idle, Rosey, but, with such a wife, I'll be another fellow altogether. And the master says as you may come, for I asked him first, and he told me to settle it all with you this morning. So you've only to say 'yes,' and it's all settled."

Still she was silent, and he stopped waiting for her answer, and looking on her face, on which a trouble and perplexity had taken the place of the glad, wondering interest of a minute ago. For a

moment she was silent. Then she turned from him, and looked across to the old mill. "No, Miles," she said, "I mustn't leave the old master who's been so good to me."

He tried coaxing first, she had always been easy to talk round, and he thought it would not be hard now, but she stuck to her resolution. "He's been so good to me, I can't leave him." Then he got angry, and accused her of not caring for him, of playing fast and loose with him, and she stood silent, with clasped hands

and trembling lips, but still she shook her head in answer to all his entreaties. Then he spoke of the long journey, of the uncertainty of life, and of its being unlikely that, if he went, they should ever meet again, to see each other's faces, and hear each other's voices. His voice was low and gentle, as he spoke, but though the tears gathered in the girl's eyes, she shook her head. At last his patience seemed gone. "Oh, well, if you don't care to go, and had rather stop here, it's no use talking, and I shall lose my train, if I stop here much longer; so good-bye, Rose, and I hope you'll be happy." He got over the stile, as he spoke., She could not believe he would leave her so, but when she had brushed away the blinding tears, and looked up, he was crossing the wooden bridge, and the next moment was out of sight. He was gone, and gone in anger, and she had sent him away. She stood looking after him, feeling as if her very life had gone with him. The old mare came up and rubbed its nose against her arm, and touched by the dumb creature's sympathy, she put her arms round its neck, and hid her face in its rough mane.

"Did you think I was gone, Rosey?" a voice said close by; and Miles was by her side again. "You're the best little soul that ever lived, that you are, and I was a brute to vex you. There, there, don't cry. You were right, and I was wrong; and I don't like you any the less for being so true to the old farmer. But do you think you can be as true to me, Rosey?"

you

True? Ay! that I will, Miles, all my life." "You need be strong to do it," he said, "for, maybe, it will be years before I come back; but I'll be true to you, and work for early and late, and when I can, I'll come home and fetch you.' A few moments more, and they parted, and then Rose turned back to the old home, saying to herself, "What does it matter as long as we're true?"

In the kitchen the old farmer sat waiting, and he turned his face to her as she came in. "Well, Rosey?"

She came and sat down on the little stool at his feet as she used to do when she first came to the farm.

"Miles has gone," she said. "He bid me say good-bye to you, for he'll be too busy to come here again before he sails."

God

"And so my little girl has chosen to stay with the old man. bless you. I think you've chosen right, and you'll not regret it." (To be continued.)

A Practical Example.

MAN who had received a field as an inheritance, neglected to cultivate it, he left it untilled, and it was soon covered with thorns. Some time after, this proprietor, wishing to restore it to its real value, said to his son, "Go and till that piece of ground." The son went and found it so full of thistles that, losing all hope of ever being able to get to the end of it, he said to himself, "When shall I ever be able to root up and clean all this?" Then lying down on the ground, he went to sleep. He continued to do the same thing for

The Death of a Christian.

several days successively. The father, coming to visit the field, and seeing it just as he had left it, said to his son, "How is it that you have not done anything yet?" "Father," he replied, "every time that I have come to work, this great quantity of thorns has so frightened and discouraged me, that instead of working, I have thrown myself on the ground and gone to sleep;" upon which, his father replied, "Weed every day as large a space as your body covers when you are thus lying upon the ground, and your work thus advancing by degrees, you will no longer be discouraged." The son obeyed, and in a short time the field was weeded.

Let us root out one by one, each bad habit, each selfish thought, and the field which God gave us at the day of our birth will, in due season, be covered with flowers and fruits.