lavender, and looked worn and fragile, as if the death-hue had infused itself into her own pale cheeks,- -so that Mary Simmons became uneasy, and lured her to pay a visit to the work-room. But all attempt to detain her long there was in vain. “I must go to mamma now," she said, in that peculiar whisper which is to the voice what shadow is to the landscape; and then, throughout the long night, forgetting her weakness, and she really was a delicate girl, she kept unwearied watch by the unconscious dead.

Sometimes, when Mary came in to look after her young mistress, "Hush," Millie would say, raising her small white hand, "angels are round us now;" and from the spiritual light shining in her earnest eyes as she spoke, it was no difficult matter to cherish the idea that she had verily been holding communion with those sinless beings,-so elevating is trial,-so sanctifying the sorrow that causes us awhile to be still.

Mary had not courage to tell Millie that this would be the last night of her vigil. Arthur had first to persuade, then to remonstrate, and finally to insist, that his fragile sister should take some rest; and Mary contrived to speak of the funeral, which seemed to Millie like a second death; and whilst she lay on her bed, in all the wildness of that grief which overwhelms the young heart unaccustomed to sorrow, that gentle work-woman applied her restoratives.

Simple remedies they were, and almost exploded

in the fashionable world, except, perhaps, in times of great need. They acted as opiates on Millie's suffering heart.

"So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption," Mary said, "and this mortal shall put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory."

It is strange how man tries to invest death with a sort of formal horror, as if were not of itself sad enough to put out of sight of this beautiful world those who with us had so long admired it.

There were the hired men of gravity, with their trailing hat-bands and demure faces, the very horses were robed in mourning, as if in our perversity we imagined they too could grieve, whilst feathers were scattered over the whole, changed magically from their airy nature into an oppressive density of gloom.

Earthly affection ever seeks to invest the dead with a certain degree of consciousness, and Arthur, as he slowly journeyed on, found comfort in the thought that those mocking plumes would soon be exchanged for clustering boughs, on which young birds would sing cheerily and hopefully, and happy butterflies in early spring would chase the sunbeams in noiseless sport above his mother's quiet tomb.

Mrs Howard's grave was indeed a sweet spot. The evening star kept its quiet vigil over it; and as one sat on the low stone, some graceful Linden trees formed as it were a frame-work for the brightest

hues of the western sky. The laburnum rose there by the willow's side, resting in spring-time its golden blossoms on the stones.

From the sad duties of that never-to-be-forgotten day, Arthur brought home comfort for Millie. Is not the precious jewel often found in the mine's most dismal bed, and are not the brightest stars of night dependent on the darkness for their lustre? Man owes much of the softer part of his character to sorrow, and there was a quiet consideration in Arthur's manner, an earnestness of feeling battling with reason, as he said to Millie, "I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die."

CHAPTER XVIII.

WORLDLY POLICY.

LIFE at the chateau went on again in its altered course of gravity and sorrow.

Millie learned, for Arthur's sake, to go about her household duties with resignation; but it was simply mechanical, for within all was unutterably dreary. She did not murmur, but all application or any thing like enjoyment was suspended and inanimate within her. She was more than ever with Mary, owing,

perhaps, to the fellowship of sorrow between them. When alone, she found a strange and incomprehensible pleasure in placing before her mind a thousand circumstances in which she had been devoid of kindness and delicacy of feeling towards Mr Strafford.

One good effect, however, arose from this selfcommuning she began to consider her motives, and becoming dissatisfied with herself, she valued as she had never before done, the blessed assurance, that "the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin."

"How is it Arthur," said Millie, "that Florence, our dear, loving Florence, has not been to us in our trouble?" Through the busy day, and oftener still during the quiet night, Arthur's heart had silently made this inquiry, but now that it was presented to him by Millie, the idea that there might be coldness and change amongst some of the inmates there, acquired new strength, and his excessive paleness betrayed to Millie his heart's anguish.

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Nay, love," she affectionately expostulated, “you must not let a mere fancy of mine so distress you; I only thought that Mr Pemberton might perhaps be annoyed because I refused to see Lionel a few days ago; and yet Florence knows how her thoughtful smile comforts me. What can it be?"

There they sat, side by side, two barks just launched on life's ocean, unconscious of the billow's strength, or the force of the tempest's raging, very soon to be separated by the warring waves of trial, the irresistible current of necessity. Who could look on them

without earnestly desiring that their anchor might be the hope which maketh not ashamed; that their helmsman might be the Father of mercies, and the God of all consolation!

Florence was unchanged. Millie insisted on this. Any thing like open mirth, or even positive gladness, would fall harshly on their saddened and grave thoughts, but Florence's brightest moods were so mystically blended with thoughtfulness, almost amounting to melancholy, and so rested in that peculiar quietude, which after all is perhaps the most fitting garment for sober cheerfulness, that Millie proved to Arthur from her very smile might be extracted hope.

It is one of woman's peculiar characteristics to take happiness into her heart through the medium of another, and when Millie became encourager, and saw the effect of her cheering words on Arthur, gladness, or rather the shadow of gladness, softened the harsh outline of her troubles, and Arthur silently responded to this feeling by a look full of delicate and cheerful intelligence.

And thus strengthening each other, both were revived, and Arthur found courage to speak to Millie of their altered circumstances. From the shadowy mystery with which, to the imaginative and the young, sorrow is ever surrounded, he came out on the hard, bare ground of the practical, and told Millie there must be a sale of the furniture. "You must go," he said, "into lodgings-into small hired rooms, such as perhaps you have never even seen." This was