tinged with rose, gave an expression of great delicacy to her countenance. She was tall-much taller than Emily-but slight and graceful, and the closefitting habit of dark cloth she wore infinitely became her; and yet there was a degree of hauteur upon brow and lip that rather chilled than won the affections of our minister's wife. She turned to the brother with an expression of relief. He resembled his sister considerably, certainly in the colour of his hair and eyes; but the expression of the face was quite different, and his manner essentially so. Hugh Spencer, from the light locks that curled short and crisply up from his bold brow, to the sunny laughing blue eyes that won your attention whether you would or not, was a type of manly beauty. Not that he had, indeed, the pretensions his sister possessed; but where she attracted by delicacy of expression, he won by boldness of outline and massive proportion.

"We have taken an early opportunity of paying our respects to Mrs. Owen," he exclaimed, in clear manly tones, to the minister. "My sister Lilian and myself must serve for the rest of the family, I believe."

"Mamma seldom leaves home," interposed Lilian, "but she desired her compliments, and trusts that you will bring Mrs. Owen very soon to Hawthorn Vale.”

Mr. Owen assured them he should feel pleasure in doing so, and then followed desultory conversation; inquiring of Emily as to how she liked the country in general, and Glen Ness in particular; till at length on rising to go the whole party stood grouped at the door, looking out upon the hill before them.

"You attend our little chapel?" asked Emily.

"Frequently," said Lilian, the colour mounting to we were there yesterday."

her cheek;

66

"We never go anywhere else, Mrs. Owen, at any rate," laughed Hugh. "I am afraid we are a sad set altogether."

“Papa and mamma belong to the Church of England," said Lilian, rather haughtily. "The members of that Church seldom like attending dissenting places of worship."

"Is there a church here?" asked Emily of Hugh. "No, indeed!" he answered; 66 none nearer than fifteen miles. We go there once a year, maybe," he continued archly; "and so, as Lilian and I are not afraid of being infected by dissent, we do make our appearance sometimes in the little Glen Ness chapel since Mr. Owen has preached there. Not so often as we ought, perhaps," he continued, with a deprecatory look at Emily; "but maybe now," and he extended his hand frankly by way of adieu-"now Mrs. Owen has come, we shall be better acquainted, and she will not need to give such reproving glances."

Emily laughed. How ardently she desired such a consummation. As she stood by her husband's side, watching the youthful pair as they quietly cantered ioff on their well-groomed horses, she inwardly prayed that Gilbert's prayer might be realised, that her nfluence might be for good.

"We will certainly go and see Hawthorn Vale and its inhabitants," said Gilbert, as they retired indoors. "I was not wrong, was I, love? Your presence here at Glen Ness will, I trust, be indeed a blessing to others besides me."

66

Ah, Gilbert, I shall need your guidance, your

prayers, very much now," replied Emily, her eyes filling with tears.

We

"You will have them, dearest, and I yours. will pray together, and united prayer will be blessed!”

CHAPTER IX.

THE INVITATION.

“In heaps on heaps the doubling vapour sails,
Along the loaded sky, and mingling deep,
Sits on th' horizon round a settled gloom."

GLEN NESS under a cloud! Yes, verily, and such a mist existed when Emily threw up her window the next morning, that she was feign to throw it down again.

Where were the green hills that yesterday looked so green stretching out before the cottage. Where were the golden wattles that had looked so golden in yesterday's sun. That grey mist had curtained all from view; and drop after drop of small drizzling rain fell upon the leaves of the passion flower and into the pink and white cups of the ixias; drop after drop weighing down the monthly roses, and refreshing the violets at their feet, till they looked up intensely blue amidst their green leafy bed.

What a morning! Emily felt sadly disappointed, for she had promised herself a rare treat—a long ride with her husband, and a visit to his other station. Every Tuesday afternoon, he told her, he rode to Mount Clare, and somewhat of the beauty of this ride and the kindness and simplicity of some of its inhabitants had disposed Emily very much to desire to

accompany him. Very much disposed indeed was he He had introduced his young

to desire the same. bride to only a portion of his people--the principal portion, to be sure, those he resided among; but those of Mount Clare must not be forgotten. They would welcome her as gladly as the Glen Ness people had done; perhaps in a less refined manner (for Glen Ness was aristocratic in its own idea), but not a whit less warmly.

But this rain-this rain!-the visit on her part was over for that day. Emily knew that quite well, as she stood nursing her disappointment at the window, and vainly hoping that the mist would at least uplift one corner, and betray its golden lining. Not it, indeed; the rain fell in steady, continued drops, as though it had not the slightest inclination to cease the whole of that day.

"No Mount Clare for you to-day, darling," said Gilbert, as he sat down at breakfast, after throwing off an oil-skin cloak that bore testimony to having been out in the wet that morning.

"Oh, no; I suppose not. I am so disappointed," said Emily, looking up. "I was building so much on the pleasure of this ride."

"And so was I, little one. I wanted your company very much. I have had plenty of solitary rides and journeys; but I suppose I must submit to another to-day, for I certainly cannot take my little wife out in the rain."

"But, Gilbert, surely you will not go yourself, will you! ? Only see how it rains! How remorseless those clouds look! You will be wet through and through before you reach Mount Clare."