Mrs. Hayes made no attempt to remonstrate with Mrs. Lewis on the decision to which she had consented. The thing was done; there was no use in controversy about it now, and she could readily understand how the mother's heart would cling to her only son.

"It will not be long," she said, "that I shall need an earthly home at all; and, while I live, earnest loving prayer will still in a way consecrate the dwelling of my boy. He seems a little nearer to God through a Christian mother's heart than when left to himself: then no prayer, no Bible, no blessing will be here."

"Well, Rhoda, you are a good girl, and you shall have the prettiest gown that money can buy," exclaimed Edward, as he surveyed all the little arrangements she had made for the reception of his bride. "I never thought my little Methodist of a sister half so good and kind. Everything is famous indeed, mother."

The furniture of the house was the property of Mrs. Lewis, who had also a very small income of her own; and now instead of Edward living with her and paying his share of the expenses, she and Rhoda were to live with him, paying their share both for board and lodging, and to no other terms would she consent.

Edward had purchased a few pieces of more modern furniture, and his sister cheerfully bore with the displacing of the old ones, setting off everything to the best advantage, and assisting in the choice of presents from her mother, from among little valuables to which she might have made some claim for herself."

But Rhoda was indeed " making the best of it ;" and when Mrs. Hayes came again, she was able to say in her own

peculiar way, and as nobody else could say it, as she laid her hand on Rhoda's head:

"The Lord bless thee, child. He has done it, He is doing it, and He will do it."

So the young Mrs. Lewis came home; home to smiles, and flowers, and kindness.

CHAPTER XXV.

TRYING CONSEQUENCES.

RS. TAYLOR and her son kindly interested themselves in choosing suitable lodgings for Matthew Hill and his little boy, when, all arrangements being made, the house given up, the furniture sold, his services permanently engaged by his new employers, Mr. Hill wished to settle in their neighbourhood.

A respectable widow with one little grand-daughter formed the household, and cheerfully undertook the charge of the boy in his father's absence. Then a school was fixed upon, and between school duties, visits to Mrs. Taylor, and games of play with the little pet grandchild, poor Josy found plenty to do and to enjoy. The sadness soon left his bright little face, good cheer and exercise soon strengthened his body, and Josy became as much admired and courted as any father's heart could wish.

But it was by very slow degrees that Matthew himself was recovering either in body or mind from the effects of the deep sorrows he had passed through. His happiest times were

spent with Robert and his family at their peaceful fireside, where sympathy, and kindness, and cheerful conversation were sure to be had, and he and Josy as regularly shared it on a Sunday as the happy day came round.

Matthew felt the sweetness and healthfulness of the atmosphere, and his child profited by the teachings of the young members of the family as they read and talked with him over their books and pictures.

Mrs. Hayes had returned to her country home, but this time she seemed to have left a larger piece of her heart than usual behind her, and if spared she promised to visit William and Susan again after a shorter interval.

She did not leave, however, before an event occurred which interested all the party very warmly, and she was prevailed on to wait for it.

There was a crowded church, and pathways strewed with flowers and hedged with garlanded school children, bands of workmen with white favours, dinners and teas and weddingcakes, and other significant doings. It was the marriage of Mr. Archibald Dixon and Miss Eaton.

When the young couple came out from the church Mr. Archy looked round for Robert Taylor. He stood by his father, at the head of the whole body of the men engaged in their extensive and flourishing works. A tremendous cheer burst forth as the young couple appeared, every hat was raised, and the white favours flourished in the air, while the foreman and his son stepped forward, the one bearing a beautiful little address, and the other an elegant Bible, in their hands.

"From your workmen, sir," said William Taylor, briefly. The young pair were deeply touched, and could not speak their thanks. Mr. Dixon, senior, advanced to the rescue,

though scarcely less overcome. "We will all come and thank you in the tent," said he. "Pardon us now; you have overpowered us with this beautiful surprise. God bless you all,

my men."

The bride recovered her voice by a great effort, sufficiently to say to Robert as she put out her hand, "We must be friends, Mr. Taylor, for my own sake as well as Archy's."

And then bride and bridegroom, Bible and address, drove away together to the hall, where all sorts of hospitalities and rejoicings were prepared for guests of all ranks and ages.

After this, people and things seemed to subside quietly into their places, and nearly two years passed peacefully away. Even two years will leave marks, and some left by these were noteworthy.

Mr. and Mrs. Dixon, senior, feeling that working days should be over for them, so far as the cares and exertions of business were concerned, left home with their daughter for a long foreign tour, and the services of Emily Taylor not being required for the young people, she was to spend a long holiday among her friends, doing only some needlework at her own convenience and pleasure.

It was joy to them all to have her at home, and when her young brother and sister clung fondly to her, little Josy would stand before them, and wish dear Milly had three arms instead of only two, that he might get a place like theirs.

Come, Josy, put your arms round my neck and hold fast till these saucy rogues choose to give way," cried Milly, laughing and shaking the big ones off.

Josy did as he was bid, and held on pretty firmly, while all made a romp of it, and amidst shouts of laughter and fun Milly was near being carried round the room as their queen.

"There, that's enough," said she, merrily; "mother will