She did not raise her eyes, though the sudden flush on her brow told that his words had struck deep. It passed away, and she said-betaking herself to Bible words as if she would not trust her own

"I speak as unto wise men-judge ye what I say.'Every man that hath this hope in him, purifieth himself even as He is pure.'

And Thornton turned and left her.

How he despised himself for what he had said! for the implication his words had carried! And against herupon whose sincerity he would have staked his life.

Christian in the Slough of Despond struggled to get out, but always on the side next the wicket gate; while Pliable, having no desire but to be at ease-even in the City of Destruction-was well pleased to set his face thitherward to be clear of the Slough.

Thornton soon got rid of his discomfort,-only the remembered touch of his sister's hand was harder to shake off than the hand itself. Perhaps on the whole he was not sorry for this. In pursuit of birds' nests he was swinging himself over a precipice, with but one visible stay-and that stay the hand of a frail girl. He knew he had hold of her, or rather that her love and prayers had hold of him; and with little thought of her life of watching and anxiety, he swung himself off-and rejoiced in his freedom.

He resolved, as he walked up Broadway, that he would go home to tea that night, but not alone, anything was better than a tête-à-tête with his sister; and besides, as he remarked to himself, "it will never do to let her suppose there are no men in the world but Henry Raynor."

Rosalie sat alone in her room, half reading, half dreaming in the warm spring air of the afternoon, -now applying herself to her book, and now parleying with some old remembrance or association; sometimes raising her eyes to take in most unworldly pleasure from nature's own messengers, and then trying to bring her mind back to more fixedness of thought. But a sunbeam that at length fell on her book wound about her its silken bands of spirit influence; and laying her folded hands in the

warm light, Rosalie leaned her head back, and let the sunbeam take her whither it would.

It went first athwart the room to little Hulda; who, tired with the day's play, had curled herself up on the bed in childish attitude and sleep. Her doll lay there too, not far off; and a little silk scarf with which she had been playing was still about her, and answered the purposes of adornment more perfectly than ever. On all the sunbeam laid its light hand tenderly; and then it darted to the table beyond, where stood the little sleeper's dish of flowers. The camellia was there too, and one look Rosalie gave it; and then turning her head towards the window and leaning it back as before, her eye again followed the sunbeam-but this time upward, her face a little graver perhaps—a little more removed from earth's affairs, but no less quiet than it had been before. And proving the truth of George Herbert's words,

"Then by a sunbeam I will climb to thee,"

it was not long ere her mind had laid fast hold of the promise," Unto you that believe, shall the Sun of Righteousness arise, with healing in his beams."

The ray had done its work and gone, and "the lesser light" had held forth her sceptre, when Martha Jumps, whose head and shoulders had been enjoying the afternoon out of an upper window, suddenly rushed into

the room.

"Here's a whole army of men coming!"

Americans, I hope," said her mistress.

"La sakes, ma'am! to be sure they aint British! and when I said army I only meant the short for multitude. But it's such an unaccountable start for the Captain to come home to tea and bring people with him!"

"He so seldom brings a multitude, Martha, that I wish you would go and tell Tom to make sure that we have bread and cake enough for tea."

"Let Tom Skiddy alone for that," said Martha," he has a pretty good notion of his own how much bread it takes for one man's supper, and if he hasn't I have; and I'll go tell him as you say; but you see if there aint a

LITTLE SWEETBRIER.

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multitude. To be sure one hat does look like a dozenviewed out of a three-story, but I wouldn't wonder a bit if there was five. And, Miss Rosalie, you mayn't be conscious that your hair is walking down the back of your neck. There they're knocking at the door this blessed minute!"

But in spite of this announcement, Rosalie's eyes and mind went out of the window again so soon as she was alone. For Sorrow had put her out of society, and Joy had not as yet offered his hand to lead her back; and the gentle spirit which had once amused itself with and among people, now found their gay words but as the music of "him that singeth songs to a heavy heart." Her mind found rest and comfort in but one thing; and these visitors-"they knew it not, neither did they regard it." And she must not only go among them, but must go as a Christian-to take and maintain that stand alone. To do nothing unbecoming her profession, to be neither ashamed of it nor too forward in making it known, to be ready always to speak the truth with boldness and yet with judgment.

For a moment it tried her,-for a moment she shrank from the trial; and then throwing off care and weakness upon the strong hand that could provide for both, she got up and lit a candle, and began to arrange her hair.

Thornton came up-stairs and through the open door so quietly while she was thus employed, that the first notice of his presence was its reflection in the glass before her.

"Well, little Sweetbrier," he said,-"beautifying yourself as usual. Are your pricklers in good order ?" "As blunt as possible.'

"Defend me from wounds with a blunt instrument!" said Thornton.

"As dull as possible then, if you like that better." "I do not like it at all, my dear, only that you never were and never will be dull. There is nothing dull about you," said he, passing his hand over her hair.

"Whom have you got down-stairs ?"

"Nobody."

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Nobody! Oh, I am so glad. Then Martha was mistaken."

"Martha is as often mistaken as most people; but when I said nobody, Alie, I did not speak very literally, and not at all prospectively. I should have said nobody to signify, at present. A few entities to come and a few nonentities to pave the way. So the re-arrangement of your hair will not be thrown away.'

"Oh, it would not have been thrown away upon you," she said. "But where did you pick up such a peculiar name for me?"

"What, Sweetbrier?-out of the abundance and exuberance of my fancy, my dear. I never attempt to argue with you, that I do not scratch my own fingers and find out how particularly sweet you are-and the sweeter the more provoked. So you see- -Come!"

CHAPTER XVI.

My name is Mr. Stephen, sir, I am this gentleman's own cousin, sir, his father is mine uncle, sir: I am somewhat melancholy, but you shall command me, sir, in whatever is incident to a gentleman.-BEN JONSON.

"Ir is one of the singular properties of Sweetbrier, gentlemen," said Mr. Clyde, as he presented his sister to the three or four young men who were variously disposed about the drawing-room; "that while seeming to be one of the meekest and sweetest of the rose tribe, it is yet. armed at all points, and capable of making war with considerable fierceness."

"'Tis excellent to have a giant's strength!'' said: one of the guests, who was given to quoting Shakspeare.

"And it is safe enough, lodged in such delicate hands,' said another who came forward with the air of an old acquaintance. "We all know that Miss Clyde is never tyrannical, except in the way which is every lady's prerogative.

"The tyranness doth joy to see The huge massacres which her eyes do make."

"What a pleasant image!" said Rosalie smiling. "It reminds one, Mr. Clinton, of the Bill of Mortality in the Spectator; where you find 'Will Simple, smitten at the Opera by the glance of an eye that was aimed at one who stood by him.'

"I think I need no further explanation of Sweetbrier, after that," said the gentleman.

"Mr. Raynor-" said Tom, suddenly throwing open the door; and more than one of the party looked round with a little start, which subsided as quickly when they found themselves mistaken.

The new comer was a most flourishing combination of youth, good looks, imperturbable good nature, a gay dress, and a most jaunty manner. As if the air were buoyant under his feet, so did he come forward, and his face was radiant as if Miss Clyde had been the sunshine of his existence.

"My dear Miss Clyde!-it is ages!-two whole ages -and a half-since I had the pleasure of seeing you. And how in the world I didn't get here as soon as I came home, I can't imagine; but the first thing I knew I found myself at Washington."

"The power of attraction, Mr. Penn," said Rosalie. "Did you suppose that you of all people could resist its

power ?"

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“I never did think so before," said Penn, "but it really seems to me that I must have resisted it pretty strongly when I went to Washington. I feel remarkably drawn, to-night."

"Drawn and quartered-in a pleasant sense," said one of the gentlemen, as Mr. Penn threw himself down on the sofa by Rosalie.

"Mr. Talbot is apparently one of the people who think sense is everything," said Mr. Clinton.

"Ah, that's a mistake," said Penn. "But, my dear Miss Clyde, is there anything remarkable about your appearance to-night ?"

I hope not," said Rosalie, while the others laughed and Mr. Clinton remarked

"You ought to be able to answer that yourself, Penn." "Couldn't trust myself, that's all," replied Mr. Penn,