the youthful pair drive off, those remarkable words suddenly occurred to her which have not been without their divine solace to many a wearied heart

"Blessed are they that mourn."

Never had they seemed to strike her with such force as at that moment. If she could exchange lots with Edith now, might it be for her good? How hard for one like Edith, beautiful and worshipped, with all the poetry of love around her, all the consciousness of joyous and hopeful life within her, all the sunny vista of bright years before her, to look steadfastly to the end!-to remember, not as a casual thought, a light cloud, obscuring for a moment her brilliant sun, and then passing away, but as a sober reality, that 'here' she had no abiding city,' but she must seek one to come;' to fix her heart, with such a treasure as hers on earth, on the unseen treasure in the heavens ! How difficult! how hard for frail humanity! But she, on the contrary-worn-strickenweary-hearted-where should she look, but to the end? What treasure had she, but the

เ

6

one pearl of great price?' In her heart there was no conflict between worldly wisdom

and heavenly injunctions between 'that covetousness, which is idolatry,' and the desire to • take up the cross, and follow Christ.' Her cross had been laid upon her long, and, instead of a burden, it had grown to be a privilege. She had learnt what sorrow was, and there was little now that it could teach her. Life had no dark secrets that she feared to read; its brilliant hues had not dazzled her sight, and, for her, death had no terrors!

Was it not better, after all, as it was? . . . .

And when the youthful pair had driven off, and she re-entered the drawing-room, where sat that noble and benevolent old man, (to whom, by the way, she owed her presence there,) surrounded by his worldly-minded relatives, who were drinking in with avidity every word he uttered, not for the love of him, but of his gold-it was with a feeling of greater comfort than she had known for many a day. She could look without rancour even upon them-it was only compassion they should excite ! For oh! how fearfully, as it seemed to her, did they mistake the true end and aim of life!

CHAPTER VII.

"Of all the vows, the first and chief request
Of each, is to be richer than the rest.'

JUVENAL.

-joy, and fresh days of love

Accompany their hearts-'

MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM.

"I SHOULD be quite satisfied with three thousand a year," said Edith, caressingly, as she tossed back the long curls of her silken hair, and gazed up into the eyes that were bent down so lovingly to meet hers.

"Three thousand a year! mean!pitiful!" exclaimed the joyous tones of

Lord Henry's voice-"no! no! when we are about it, let us wish for something worth having! In the first place, I say with Horace, I should always like to have a year's income in my purse, that I might not be continually perplexed with an anxious concern for tomorrow. Then, as to the income itself, not less than a hundred thousand a year would satisfy me!"

"Harry!"

"I could soon get through it.

Let us see. I would buy that beautiful place of Truro'sthat should be the first thing! Such covers there! Then I should keep a pack of foxhounds, of course."

“And I would have a phaeton, like the Duchess of Shetland's

"and Edith, too,

abandoned herself to the

pleasure of these

you should teach

châteaux en espagne-" and

me to drive."

"Then a moor, of course! one could not do without a moor!-And a yacht!"

"I should not like the yacht much! the sea disagrees with me"

"Oh! you would soon get over that!-and nothing so healthy-Then another thing

should be a band of wind instruments-a first-rate band!"

"We would have it play during dinner—” "Then we would buy that house of Wilmot's in London, and give three or four concerts and balls every season"

Edith clapped her hands

"I should like to see Lady Frant's face then! Fancy her fury!

"But, Edith! there are things I should enjoy more than all these.-I have often thought how delicious it would be, if one were rich-and two people who loved one another as we did, could not marry for want of means, to settle a few thousands on them, without saying a word about it. Imagine their surprise! That would be worth all the moors, and yachts, and fine houses in the world!"

Edith looked up with sparkling eyes from the low stool on which she was sitting, with one arm resting on her husband's knees

"You would enjoy that, my Harry," she

said.

"And if some poor d-1 of a younger brother were obliged to let a step go over his head in the regiment, for want of funds, what