Shine on thy work of grace within,

On each celestial blossom there; Destroy each bitter root of sin,

And make thy garden fresh and fair.
Shine on thy pure eternal Word,

Its mysteries to my soul reveal,
And whether read, remembered, heard,
Oh let it quicken, strengthen, heal.
Shine on the temples of thy grace,

In spotless robes thy priests be clad;
There show the brightness of thy face,
And make thy chosen people glad.

Shine on those friends for whom we mourn, Who know not yet thy healing ray; Quicken their souls, and bid them turn

To Thee, the Life, the Truth, the Way.
Shine on those unseen things displayed
To faith's far-penetrating eye;
And let their brightness cast a shade
On every earthly vanity.

Shine on those tribes no country owns,
On Judah, once thy dwelling-place;
Thy children think upon her stones,
And long to see her day of grace.

Shine on the missionary's home,

Give him his heart's desire to sec;
Collect the scattered ones who roam;
One fold, one Shepherd let there be.

Shine till thy glorious beams shall chase
The blinding film from every eye,

Till every earthly dwelling-place

Shall own the day-spring from on high.

Shine on, shine on, Eternal Sun,

Pour richer floods of life and light,

Till that bright Sabbath be begun

That glorious day that knows no night.

Nellie, as we have said, dwelt on each verse in thought and prayer. In praying for the friends for whom one can only mourn, her heart turned, as it always did, to the cottage where her father lived, where the sound of prayer was never heard, and the name of God never mentioned, save in oaths and curses. She thought of Joe, too, for Nellie did not believe Joe knew God yet; but she was not very unhappy about him. Where there was so much hope, there could not be much mourning. She never could think of Joe as a lost sheep, only as a wandering one, whom the Good Shepherd was even now going after with the crook of his care and love. But her father! Nellie was very unhappy about her father. He never came to see her; during the whole of her stay at Heath Farm, he had not paid her a single visit. But Nellie went regularly to see him, and had paid longer visits since learning the Ten Commandments.

Once a month she went to that dreary cottage in the wood, and, though she always came away dispirited, her father seemed to care so little for her visits, indeed sometimes appeared unwilling to see her come, and relieved to see her go, yet she persevered in going. Mrs. Stokes had always allowed her to go and see him once a month, and she was to have the same liberty at the Park. Next Tuesday would be the day, and, whenever it was drawing near, little Nellie always repeated this verse of her Sunday hymn with especial fervour. Her dressing over, she knelt in prayer, then took her little Bible, and was still reading it when the

clock struck seven; and immediately a large bell above it began to swing backwards and forwards, sending forth such a clanging noise, that Nellie thought Mrs. Anstey might well say she was not likely to sleep through it.

CHAPTER XXX.

THE FOURTH COMMANDMENT.

HILST the bell was still sounding, Nellie's

tap was heard at Mrs. Anstey's door, and

her morning began cheerfully by a word of praise from that personage on her punctuality. She was then shown the rooms of which she had charge, and two of which she was now to prepare ; the one for Miss Audley's dressing, and the other for Mrs. Jolliffe's use. She was told to sweep and dust them, and not to pry into anything. These were Mrs. Anstey's orders, and Nellie strictly obeyed them.

The great clock had sounded eight before Nellie saw anything of the two persons upon whom she had chiefly to wait; then they both came into the room together, but only for a minute, for the large bell in the turret rang out again; this time to summon the servants to breakfast. Mrs. Jolliffe, the nurse, and Mrs. Soper and Mrs. Anstey, the two maids, all prepared to go down and take it in the servants'-hall, Mrs. Jolliffe telling Nellie that she would breakfast afterwards, and that she must always be ready to go down about half-past eight,

as there would not be any bell to call her. However, she would be sure to see them come up, and then she must go down.

Poor Nellie was beginning to feel very nervous, and to realize what a different thing it was to be a servant, even an inferior servant, in such a place as Audley Park, to being only servant at Heath Farm; but she did exactly what she was told-step by step she set her little feet down on the precise spot pointed out to her, and in doing this she found, as many another has found also, that this simple rule made easy a path which would otherwise have been altogether too puzzling for her to follow.

As soon as she saw Mrs. Jolliffe and Soper returning, she took her way downstairs; not but what she would much rather have gone without her breakfast than have gone thus in search of it, and she thought it was rather unkind of Soper, at all events, not to go down with her, if only to show her the way. But Soper was not much in the habit of thinking of others, or of what she could do to help them.

The way to the servants'-hall, however, was as easy to find as Mrs. Jolliffe had told her it would be, for it stood exactly at the foot of the staircase, and several servants were going in, all young girls, though none as young as she was. One of them was the same girl who had opened the door of the "house" to her and Mrs. Stancombe's maid last night; and to Nellie's thankful relief the girl recognized her, and took her into the room under her wing. There, at the top of a long table, sat