girl said, "with which Christ makes his people free. We become his servants, it is true; but what is service when we love those we serve; it is the happiest life in all the world-it is joy, it is delight to do anything for a dear one-it is grief not to be able to do it."

The tears filled Patty's eyes, for she had often felt her crippled condition more keenly because it kept her from helping others than from any privations it imposed on herself, and Nellie sympathized, for she was beginning to delight in doing anything for good old Mr. Stokes, because she liked him so much; and as the thought of what it would be to wait on Mrs. Stancombe passed through her mind, she realized to the full the truth of Patty's words.

"I think that is true," she said; "it's very nice to work for those we love."

"Nice!" exclaimed Patty; "it's joy-it's bliss. And we don't LOVE the devil ever, even when we are serving and following Him. You know the Bible itself tells us that love is of God, and I don't think any one can know anything about love, even earthly love—at least, not real, true, good love— till they belong to God; till they are in God, and feel that those whom they love are in Him too. Yes, to serve those we love is liberty-perfect liberty-for it is our own free choice. To obey them, please them, work for them, is the thing we prefer above all others in the world. Don't you know what it says in the hymn, Nellie, that lovely hymn that begins

"Father, I know that all my life

Is portioned out for me.

"I have always loved that hymn so much, because it reminds me of the time when the thought of God the Father having made me and all the world,' reconciled me to being made as I am, and seeing almost all the rest of the world made so differently to me. The last verse is such a lovely one, and it's all about the happiness of Christ's service." The ardour of Patty's heart lighted up her dark eyes, as she repeated it

"In a service which thy will appoints,

There are no bonds for me,

For my inmost heart is taught the truth,'
That makes thy children 'free,'

And a life of self-renouncing love
Is a life of liberty.

"Self-renouncing love," she added, "that is liberty indeed, blessed liberty."

The words of the hymn were rather beyond little Nellie's power of comprehension; nor could she understand all that Patty said. But she understood enough to seize the chief idea which Patty wished to convey, and she said, very heartily

"I'm very glad Jesus came to set sinners free, and take them out of the power of the devil."

"To set us free," said Patty, emphatically; "you and I, Nellie. We must have the chain-the chain with which we are all bound-taken off, each one of us, or Christ's coming won't be of any good to us."

Nellie went home with these words sounding in her heart. Before she reached the farm she had turned them into a prayer-"O Jesus, I want to serve Thee. Set me free from sin and Satan. Take away my chains, and bring me safely to heaven."

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE FIRST COMMANDMENT.

GAIN Ellen Stancombe was spending a day at Audley Park, again nurse had protested, and again, in spite of their love and respect for nurse, had Mr. and Mrs. Stancombe resisted her protestations, and decided that it was better that the invitation should be accepted than declined, better for Mr. Stancombe's own desire of doing what good lay in his power at Audley, better for Mrs. Audley and her daughter, better for Ellen herself.

Ellen's world at Oldfield was a very small one, but it had its own temptations and difficulties, as every other world has, however great or small. To teach their child to meet these temptations and overcome them in a strength superior to her own, seemed to her parents a wiser and a kinder plan than to shut her up from all sights and sounds but such as she had been accustomed to see and hear from childhood.

The battle with temptation must be fought one day. Would it not be well to let her enter at once into such smaller skirmishes as the providence of God seemed to place in her way, showing her which

piece of armour was needed for each, helping her to put it carefully on, guiding her in the use of it, and thus preparing her for the struggle which hereafter, when they perhaps were laid to rest, she might be left to carry on alone.

A little conversation that had taken place between Mrs. Stancombe and her child, whilst Ellen was dressing for this second visit to Audley Park, had confirmed the anxious mother in her opinion that she was right in allowing this intercourse between the Rectory and the Park, though the squire was a godless man, the governess a Romanist, and the only daughter a spoiled and ill-taught child. Two years ago Ellen would certainly not have been allowed to visit at the Park, for then it would probably have been to learn only evil, and gain no good. But of late her parents had perceived, with deep thankfulness, that the seeds of true and holy principles sown in her heart were springing up, and already bringing forth young plants of right and virtuous practice—of self-denial, of truth, and humility. These young plants must be exposed to many a rough blast of temptation, to many a nipping blight of evil; but these would but strengthen their hardy growth. It was their part now not to prevent the winds and the blights, but to protect their precious charge as it passed through them. What time they were afraid they must trust. And Ellen's little conversation with her mother that very morning had shown her that that trust had not been in vain.

"Mamma," said Ellen, "I did not know what frock you meant me to wear at Audley to-day, but