church. You have only to walk through my garden and cross the churchyard; I will go with you at once. They practise from eight till nine.”

Horace Cleeve-for it was indeed he-was silent for a moment. The rector removed the green shade from his reading-lamp, and let its light fall on the face of his visitor. One glance told him that Mr. Cleeve was unnaturally paleevidently worn-out with fatigue and excitement.

"Will you be advised by me, Horace?" he said kindly. “You were ready enough to take my counsel, you know, when you were my little fag in the old school-days.”

“It was very light work—the fagging for you,” answered the young man with a smile. “Yes, I will be advised and admonished in the old way, if it pleases you."

"Then let me take you to my wife first, and to your room afterwards. Get a little refreshment before you see Miss Miriam Lynne. She shall not escape you-I promise that! But it will be better for her and for you, if you can consent to wait until the men and boys have left the church. She does not expect you, I suppose?"

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Expect me! We have not met for years; and until your letter came, Raydon, I had believed that she was dead. Oh, that letter! The hand of God must have guided yours when you wrote it."

The rector felt the truth of those last words. A mighty influence had prompted that impulsive act which he had been more than half inclined to regret. A Providence had shaped his ends, and had used him as the instrument to bring these two friends together.

"And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." He thought he knew, now, why that sweet chime had been echoing in his brain. Even here in this lower world—His loving hand wipes away our tears, and gives us a foretaste of the everlasting joy. Even here, the desolate are made glad, and the parted are restored to each other, to walk hand in hand unto the very gates of Paradise.

Mrs. Raydon was almost dazzled by this glow of romance which had so unexpectedly shed its light over everyday life. She was happy, excited, eager that the long-severed pair should meet: yet

half afraid of the effects of that meeting on Miriam Lynne. Women who have been strong under a great sorrow, sometimes sink under a great joy; and although she knew little of Miriam's past history, she had quickly divined that it had been sad.

"You must not present yourself too suddenly, Mr. Cleeve," she said earnestly. "She must be prepared, either by my husband or myself."

CHAPTER XXIII.

SEMPER FIDELIS.

AFTER all, the task of preparation devolved upon the rector. At ten minutes to nine, Mrs. Raydon wrapped herself in a thick shawl, and prepared to accompany the two gentlemen to the church. And then, when she found herself out in the quiet starlight, and heard the music of the organ stealing faintly through the garden, she stopped short, and suddenly burst into tears.

"My husband must do it; he is stronger and calmer than I am," she said, and made a precipitate retreat into the house-there to give way to that unwonted outbreak of emotion. Well was it, she thought, that her two sons had started off that afternoon to spend Sunday with a friend in the country. What would her boys have thought if they had seen their mother so foolishly flurried

and overcome? They would not have understood (how should they?) that mysterious quickness of sympathy which had drawn forth her tears.

Meanwhile the rector, thus abruptly deserted by his lawful ally, resolved to make the best of the situation. He took his old school-friend by the arm, and led him down the gravelled path between the dark evergreens. Not a word was

spoken as they entered the churchyard; the music, solemnly sweet, came drifting towards them on the night-breeze,

"Then seemed to go right up to heaven,

And die among the stars."

The west door was unfastened, and the two went quietly into the church-standing in the shadows, as Jack Fenway had stood when he had been longing to defend the right. A few seconds more, and the voices and organ-notes ceased; men and boys came down the long aisle, and the rector signed to his companion to follow him.

The organ-loft was approached by the side-aisle on their left; the church was now nearly wrapped in darkness, as the old sexton was putting out the few lights that the singers had required. One