experience that there is no true peace or happiness but in Christ."

There was a pause for a few moments. Rosamond was thinking how much she should like to ask Mr. Waldegrave to write to her on these subjects, but she was deterred by thinking Frederick might not like it; she would wait until she had asked him.

Mr. Waldegrave was putting off the moment of saying farewell. "Let me recommend you," he said, "to study carefully and prayerfully the life and death of Christ, by all the four Evangelists, and also St. John's First Epistle;" then rising rather suddenly, he said, "Now I must go," and taking Rosamond's hand he held it in his own, as looking earnestly in her face, he said, "May the God of love and peace be with you, and enable you to grow in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ."

The gentle solemnity and warmth of manner with which he said these words brought the tears into Rosamond's eyes; she pressed his hand and murmured some almost inarticulate words of thanks and farewell.

He turned and slowly left the room; at that moment there was no thought in his heart but the deepest, most earnest desire for her soul's peace. At other times during his stay in her neighbourhood, he had experienced some feelings of a more

earthly nature, but they had never been indulged; he had sternly reproved and thrust them from him. As he walked away from the house he was roused from deep thought by hearing his name eagerly called; he looked round, and saw Alfred running after him, holding some flowers in his hand. Quite out of breath, the little fellow came up panting, "Oh, Mr. Waldegrave, I-I thoughtI was afraid—that you were gone-that-I had missed you, I went to my garden to get you these," and he held up a beautiful little bunch of spring flowers; "they are all out of my own garden, and what do you think they are tied up with ?"

"I guess with some of Toddlekin's hair," said Mr. Waldegrave, smiling.

"Yes, yes, I cut them off his mane, and made that nice little twist, and I hope you will keep it for Toddly's sake;" then his tone suddenly changing, he said, “Oh, Mr. Waldegrave, I am so sorry you are going away, I wish you always stayed here."

"I am sorry to go away, Alfred, but I am glad too, to go back to my Master's work; you know I told you how much I had to do in London."

"Oh, yes, I remember; do you think you will ever come back here ?"

"I hope so, but probably not for some time, not this year certainly."

"Then perhaps I shall be gone away before you come back."

It was a peculiarity in this child that he scarcely ever spoke of death, or of any one dying or having died; he would say such a one had gone away, or sometimes that they had gone to God. Mr. Waldegrave was aware of this, and said, "Why do you think you will go away soon ?”

The child raised his lovely blue eyes, which certainly had a most heavenly expression, and said, "Sometimes God seems so near."

"My child, He is always near," replied Mr. Waldegrave.

"Yes, but I think-I can't describe very well— but I think when people are soon to go away He

seems more near.

A shiver ran through Mr. Waldegrave, for he thought of Rosamond. He raised the little boy, and kissing him, said, "Well, good-bye now, my dear Alfred; if I ever come back here, and do not find you, still I know I shall see you again, we shall meet in the Better Land."

"Yes, yes," exclaimed the child, who knew the verses well; and again looking up to heaven, he said, 'Beyond the clouds, it is there, it is there.' Oh, yes, Mr. Waldegrave, I shall see you there."

Mr. Waldegrave could say no more, and again

kissing him, bade him once more good-bye, only adding, "I shall keep your flowers, and take them with me to London to-morrow."

Alfred got up on the bank, and watched till Mr. Waldegrave was out of sight, when he turned and went back to the house.

CHAPTER IX.

Ir Rosamond was sorry at Mr. Waldegrave's departure, there was another who was not only sorry, but much disappointed, that he had gone and made no sign.

Susan Grant had quite made up her mind that she would make the best possible wife for Mr. Waldegrave, and why he did not think so too was most unaccountable. He had had every opportunity of becoming acquainted with her, and of seeing what an admirable help-mate she would make in his parochial labours; there could be no rival in the case, for even had he ever admired Rosamond, no good clergyman would ever think of marrying her, and besides, he knew that she was engaged. Perhaps he was poor, and did not like to ask her to share his poverty-that must be it; he was only a curate, all curates are poor; but Susan, who was always pretty well satisfied with herself, considered that she was cut out for a poor clergyman's wife. She knew nothing whatever about Mr. Waldegrave, and probably her disappointment would have been much greater had she known that he was quite

I