you know; but the reel thing is doin' your duty, and when that's done, why, there's solid comfort; and this world don't end it."

Happy was much moved by this confidence of Miss Lavinia's; it is a great encouragement to know that others have tried the depths of pain and loss before us, and come up out of them alive and whole. It is in this that the power of Christ's life lies; that he did not come as king and conqueror, but as one who endured all the trials of our own existence, for the poor he tasted poverty, for the tempted, trial; for the forsaken, desertion in his sore need, the desertion of his dearest friends; for the dying, the very bitterest bitterness of death! There is no pang of ours he has not known, from the sorrows of childhood to the last agonies of violent death; no grief he cannot feel with us; no anguish he does not understand and pity. His sympathy is the sympathy of experience, the experience of humanity; but his love and help are all divine, all powerful. Wonderful union of heart and hand! mighty provision of God for man; truly Immanuel, God with us; and who can be against us?

But who is sufficient for these things! If they were our daily thought and hope, life would lose its terrors and death smile. As it is, let us all pray,

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Lord, increase our faith." Happy had need to use this petition now, for her heart failed her. She

could only give Miss Vinny mute tokens of her gratitude; and when the time came she went home without a word, and left the honeysuckles behind her. Miss Lavinia did not remind her of them.

There were a few things to do after she reached home; Mrs. Holden's pitcher of ice-water and plate of biscuits to prepare, and her room to arrange for the night and Ruth's hair to be brushed and braided. She went through this mechanically; though Ruth, seeing how heavy her eyes were, and how listless her motions, asked if she were ill. Happy said yes, because she had no explanation to offer, and she did indeed feel sick unto death; but it was heart-sickness.

There was little sleep for her that night. She pined as never before for her mother's face, her voice, her tender arm. Many times she fell on her knees by the bedside, and with burning tears prayed for help to do right. Prayed, as she thought, for strength to make her own life miserable forever; to break her own heart, and that heart itself rebelled against the prayer. daylight before she fell into troubled sleep.

It was

CHAPTER XX.

HAPPY had plenty of work to do the next day, and it proved a blessing, as work always does to the troubled; but still a heavy cloud hung over her. She did not doubt her duty, it was plain before her face; the way in which she should walk was hard, steep, toilsome, lonely, but it was unmistakable, and though flesh and heart failed, she knew she must pursue that path. She had tried in her weakness and distress to see how she might evade it, but her upright conscience baffled every such attempt; she had prayed then for strength, and God had given her that certainty of duty which is in itself strength. The temptation that conquers us is that which blinds us first, which assails our reason with potent but specious arguments, to which we listen because we do not see the face of the tempter, and have no will to refute his reasoning; but Miss Lavinia had done Happy good service, her eyes were opened. Now she only longed to have it over. It is so hard for women to wait, either for good

or evil, and

was over.

Happy was a timid woman. She did not know when she should see Fred Park again: she both dreaded and desired to see him, and she could not expect to do so till Thursday; on that day he generally waited for her after the evening lecture; she thought he went too, but now this little delusion vanished. The week seemed very long, and she was sad and quiet as never before; but her dream She attended to her duties with punctual alacrity, forgot nothing, neglected nothing. Mrs. Holden had no fault to find, for as long as she was served well, it mattered little to her whether her servants were ill or well; she liked a placid, pleasant face about her, but, if everything else was right, she did not care much about Happy's sad eyes and pale cheeks; and she could not help herself here; no order of hers would restore the sparkle and color to that pallid, quiet countenance. Ruth noticed it, and was kind in a thousand little ways, every one of which went to Happy's grateful heart, for she was grateful; that rarest of human traits was both native and educated within her. Whoever did anything for Happy never was forgotten; a kind word, a gentle look even, won a place at once in her memory, and no bright flower, beautiful sunset, or unusual pleasure failed to lift up her heart thankfully to God who "giveth us all things richly to enjoy." Rare virtue! it is not of

this world! Here we may spend strength, time, health, life itself, in the service of those we love, and be dismissed and forgotten like a lame horse or a worn-out garment at the first caprice; the promises and vows of affection and interest all swept away, the ties of years snapped, the services that wasted our souls and bodies are all set aside, and we sent out with quivering, aching, bleeding hearts to find our way in the wilderness alone. But thank God! this is not the fashion of his children. Gratitude is a Christian grace alone; the ties of blood, the assurances of friendship, the vows of love, may do all fail us, but the brotherhood of God's family is true, unfailing, eternal. Madam Holden, too, perceived that something was very wrong with Happy, and in her gentle way tried to help her; but she was too well-bred to intrude herself even upon a servant's confidence. Instinctively she felt that the girl was in some strait that she must pass alone; but in her daily prayers Happy was earnestly remembered; and the gentle tenderness, unusual in its open demonstration, of every look and tone, showed such sympathy and consideration that it descended like the dew on that feverish, throbbing sorrow.

But Happy was not to escape without further distress. Mrs. Payson sent for her, when the dreaded Thursday evening came, to stop there on