of the sofa; but a richly decorated book, for its blue velvet was a foil for the white hand that held it, and it had golden clasps. The next moment he had recognised the book, and his sister's secret was discovered.

How inconThere was no

Lilian and the Bible in company! gruous it seemed. And yet, not so. longer a doubt on his mind that she thought herself dying. And, after all, was it so unnatural that she should desire to know whither she was bound for? Yet surely, if she was not fit for heaven, who could be? Maybe she was distressing herself about it. He might be able to dispel her fears; and thinking that, he gravely threw his cigar away, and went back to the parlour.

"Not asleep, Lily?" he said, endeavouring to master his feelings and speak cheerfully; "reading too. I thought you were stealing a march on me, and had taken up Tennyson, but I find you have not. Have you some very interesting book there?"

The colour came all over the fair face, and the tears came with it as she replied in low tones,"Very, to me, dear Hugh.”

"And why not to me, pet? Our taste in books generally corresponds ?"

How wistfully she looked at him. "If it only did in this, dear Hugh-oh! if it only did in this !" she whispered in his ear; for he had come close to her, and had drawn her to him till her head rested on his shoulder. "Oh! if you could only help me search!"

in

my

66

Why can I not, darling? What is it you want to know ?"

"Oh, Hugh! that I shall have a home with Jesus -when-when I must leave you all."

"You are not going to leave us.

These sea

breezes are doing you worlds of good, Lily. You are stronger every day." How his heart belied his words, poor fellow, as he uttered them.

I

"Nothing permanent, dear Hugh, you know it. see you know it. I am marked for the grave, like

poor cousin Lottie."

"Even if it is so, darling," Hugh presently returned in a stifled voice," even if it should be so, you have no reason to distress yourself. You, who have lived so pure and so lovely a life, heaven is sure to you."

"Do you think this? Oh, no, dear Hugh, that is a poor foundation for hope-a poor broken reedI dare not trust to it. This book tells me so differently. He that has sinned one sin is guilty of all; and I, oh! how far I have lived all my life from God, never seeking His love, never caring for His forgiveness; and yet, even now, I feel as if He will hear me, as if He will pardon me, as if He will receive me into his bright mansions, His gentle loving arms, when earth shall fade away from my sight. Oh, Hugh! do not you think He will ?"

Hugh's heart beat wildly, and unwonted tears rose to his eyes.

"Would you not like to see some one who can tell you about these things so much better than I can, some minister?" he presently asked, in a voice hoarse with feeling.

"I have longed, oh! so much," said Lily, faintly, "to see dear Mrs. Owen again. If I only could

do that!-but it is impossible," she added, with a sigh.

"No, indeed," said Hugh, joyfully. "Would you really like to see her? Why, Lily, she is here, here at the Bay. I saw her this very morning."

P

CHAPTER XXVI.

SEEKING JESUS.

"Sprinkled now with blood the throne,
Why beneath thy burdens groan?
On my pierced body laid
Justice owns the ransom paid.

Bow the knee, and kiss the Son;

Come, and welcome-sinner, come!"

MRS. ASHLEY was right: the sea breezes-were good for Emily, very good; they brought back a colour to her cheek, and a light to her eyes, and firmness to her step, such as she had not enjoyed for many a day. But with this full return of strength came an earnest desire for action. She loved the sea in all its moods, placid or stormy; nor would she soon have wearied of its beach, had it not been that the memory of a little home, amidst the distant hills, that was very dear and very precious to her, and where she knew she must be wanted, disturbed her rest. How she looked for the letters that regularly came, and with what yearning of heart she answered them, the young and loving wives among our readers can best realise; but certainly, had it been possible, she would many times most gladly have crept into her envelope, with baby, and have travelled by post back to Glen Ness. Dear Glen Ness! how very dear

it was in those days; how fair, how lovely it seemed to the absent one.

But there were other reasons that made this absence irksome to Emily; the cloud that she had fancied she had detected on her husband's brow, and the depression in his manner, was evidently, in spite of himself, communicated to his letters. "I am sure it is not all right," Emily thought, as she read; "there is something the matter-something concealed from me. Ah! I wish I was at home;" and she had just decided to ask her brother to take her before the time agreed upon had expired, when something occurred to turn her thoughts in another direction.

Walking on the sands with Mrs. Ashley and a friend one lovely morning, followed by little Rosie, tenderly sheltered from the strong breeze in the arms of Mrs. Ashley's maid, who was very proud of her charge, she was attracted to one of a group of gentlemen standing near the jetty in earnest conversation, by a fancied resemblance to some one she knew. As they approached nearer he turned, and, with a movement of surprise, lifted his hat. She recognised him then with a smile of pleasure; and as they passed on, exclaimed to Mrs. Ashley,

"One of our Glen Ness people, Minny. Mr. Hugh Spenser, son of one of our richest and most influential men."

"And brother to Arthur Norton's fiancée. That is him, is it?" said Mrs. Ashley. "Well, he is a handsome young fellow, and Lilian Spenser is very lovely; but is it not sad that she should be so delicate, and should have such an illness at such a time?"