door, listening for that footstep on the stairs. It was coming up now.

Coming up? Yes, but that was the work of a moment; it took but a moment to bring husband and wife together-husband, wife, and child. Let us leave them in their joy, as Maggie did, for a voice she loved sounded below; and Hugh-her own loved Hugh, had come to claim her.

CHAPTER XLIV.

FAREWELL TO GLEN NESS.

"The thick'ning footsteps through the gloom,
Telling of those we love come home :
The candle's lit-the cheerful board,
The dear domestic group restored."

"I HARDLY expected to find my little wife so pale and weak and thin as this," said Gilbert Owen, later in the evening, as, seated by her side, with her head resting upon his shoulder, they mutually recounted the past, Emily especially rejoicing in her husband's evident restoration to health and strength.

"I shall soon get well and strong now, dear Gil,” said she, fondly; "soon be able to stand the journey to Glen Ness."

"Should you be very sorry if you never see Glen Ness again, dear? think you could bear it?" Are we not going

Do you "What do you mean, Gilbert ?

to Glen Ness again?"

"I am, once more. I shall not take you with me, darling. You must reserve all your strength to make bright another home-a new home—with your presence."

66

'Oh, Gilbert !—where are we going?"

And then he recounted how another people in Victoria had been found, to whom his labours had already been blessed. How they had entreated him, even earnestly entreated him, to come among them; and how their unanimous call to the pastorate appeared to him a call from God, a door opened by him, while that of Glen Ness had as evidently been closed against him; why, he could not say, excepting that his work was apparently finished there, and a fresh field of labour had opened.

"You will not object, dear Emmy? It will not seem hard for you to leave Glen Ness, will it?"

"Not since I go with you, dear Gilbert; though there are a few, even in Glen Ness, I shall regret to leave. They have been true and kind amidst all,” and tears stole into Emily's eyes, a tribute of gratitude to those few friends whose kindness had been so conspicuously manifested amidst the general death, like stars in the darkness of night. "No, dear Gilbert," she presently continued, "I shall love to go where you will be appreciated, your labours loved and blessed, and, if God goes with us, we can be nothing less than happy."

"Yes, that is what we want-God's presence, dearest. I have felt very much of it lately, far more than I think I have ever enjoyed before. He has been so near me, I can scarcely express how near. The word has come with power to my soul. I have lived on, rejoiced in it; it has been more to me than my necessary food; and more strongly than I have ever done before, I have felt the desire burning within me to gather souls to the Saviour, to work zealously for Him. Out of the darkness and clouds I

have come with such a sense of God's care, that I want to speak of Him all the time.”

"Dear Gilbert," and the tears gleamed like gems through the smiles on Emily's face-" dear Gilbert, and I, too, have been taught something more of His love during our heavy trials and this illness; I, too, long to work for Him."

"And so our clouds are bearing their precious fruits; they are, at least, showing their 'silver lining,' eh, Emmy? God moves in a mysterious way, but we have proved it to be a right way, after all. He will go with us to our new home in Victoria, and we have a right to expect a blessing, for He has promised one."

"Well, Owen," said Edward Ashley next day, "I must say I'm heartily thankful you are going to throw up Glen Ness. I hope the Victorians will serve you better; but there's one good thing, you will never again know the need you have done, let them treat you how they may."

"What do you mean?" asked Gilbert, quietly looking up from the calculation he was making on the tablets of his wife's pocket-book.

"What do I mean? Why, this bequest, to be sure. Ah, I suppose, though," he added, laughing, "it will be news to you. Poor Mrs. Norton has left by deed of gift to you both a nice little sum. The deed was drawn up, it seems, some months ago, after her return from Hawthorn, and with her husband's perfect consent. It will bring you in about one hundred and fifty a-year. Your people can't starve you while you have that."

"Another gift from God, dear Emmy," said Gil

bert, in low tones of deep feeling, as he recounted the news to his little wife at a later period of the day. "In one way after another the Lord is appealing for us. Even that which seemed difficult in this new path is cleared away now. I shall go on with my work unrestrained by pecuniary troubles. The cause is young and growing, but lack of means Dear Emmy, how good the

will not trouble us now.

Lord is."

"Oh, He is, He is. And our dear Lily, how kind, how thoughtful. This is just, I know, how she wished it to be for us."

A very few preliminary processes were sufficient to conclude the whole matter. This proof of Lily's love, of her anxiety for the progress of the Gospel, was very very sweet to Emily. There were no contingencies, no tying down to place. No; Lily believed that Glen Ness was not the place for Gilbert Owen. "Wherever the Lord leads, go," so the deed of gift was worded, and all was quietly settled.

Perhaps to Maggie Spencer, Hawthorn's new bride, the news of the intended and approaching voyage came most painfully. "Just as she herself was so happy, just as Hugh was so susceptible of good influence, just as she had laid out so many plans to make the Glen Ness home more tolerable to her beloved pastor and his wife, these Victorians had come between, and ruined all. Ah, it was too

bad."

"No, Maggie dear, it is God's work; we believe it to be so, and we must not rebel," Emily replied. "You will have another minister at Glen Ness, no doubt. For my sake, dear, show all your kindness