LITTLE DOXIE. was only what she expected, when, as she watched, the clouds drew their thin mists away, and passed onward, leaving the little silvery moon shining steadily down upon Doxie. She seemed to smile, or the motherless little child thought she did. Doxie laughed out aloud in her pleasure, and curled herself up for her pleasant sleep in the warm bed. With the next day's dawn, bright sunshine poured in upon the children in the nursery. Soon they were all sitting at the high table where nurse presided, discussing bread and milk, handed to each in her large white bowl. Before the meal was over, an elder sister appeared on the threshold. She was a pretty, bright girl usually, but to-day her fair face was stained with tears, and her eyes looked sorrowful. "No; I want Doxie," she said, turning to her favourite, as all the children rose at her entrance, and sprang to her with a rush; she can finish her breakfast down-stairs with me." "A great many persons, Doxie." 479 "Well, but I mean one," Doxie continued, unmoved; "and I saw her crying, and I asked God to stop her being frightened and cold, and not to let her cry; and he did directly." "What person was that, Doxie ?" "I'll show you her," said little Doxie, brightening into dimples, and flushing. "She's so-so pretty!" "You must show her to me, Doxie," Madelon said, smiling at the child's energy. "I didn't know we numbered any one so lovely among our acquaintance. When may I see her ?” "To-night," Doxie said, mysteriously, "when I am in bed, and nurse has gone down to her supper. Don't guess, Madelon ;" and Doxie held her little hand over Madelon's mouth. "Indeed, I won't guess," Madelon promised; "no need to strangle me, Doxie dear." The day passed heavily enough for Madelon, and her heart was very weary and sad, as she ascended the So Doxie had some attention paid to her curls, and nursery stairs to fulfil her promise to Doxie. As she departed hand in hand with "sister." The breakfast down-stairs presented extraordinary attractions for Doxie. Whole pots of preserve and marmalade, eggs lying upon toast, and delicious thin bread and butter. It was very like going into "Wonderland." But soon it became apparent to Doxie that Madelon did not eat. She rested her head on little Doxie's curls, as the child sat upon her lap, and sighed wearily. "What's the matter?" asked Doxie, a little inarticulate by reason of the good things, but with sufficient anxiety. "I am very sad," poor Madelon told her. entered the nursery she was astonished at its brilliancy. The moonlight poured in a clear stream upon the floor. The children, sleeping on white pillows, showed like little angels in the flood of bright light. And Doxie, pattering to her side, looked the least earthly, perhaps, of them all. "You have come," she said, in an enchanted whisper. "Yes, I have come. How bright you have it here, Doxie. Where is your beautiful friend ?" Madelon, as she spoke, sat down on a low chair in the window, and gathered her little sister up into her lap. "There she is," Doxie said, with an outstretched "A good many people are sad," returned Doxie. finger, and a whole world of satisfaction and emphaher thoughts travelling back to last night. sis in her voice. "Isn't she pretty and white to Oh, so many people, Doxie !-so many, many night?" Well, you know," said little Doxie. But Madelon shook her head. "Do I?-I don't think I do-to-day at all events." "Oh, Madelon!" Doxie's hands relaxed their hold, and Madelon had to see that her little sister did not fall off her lap, in her shocked surprise. "Yes-yes, my darling, I know. You mean that we should ask God to comfort to make us happy, Doxie." "And he would," said Doxie-"I know he would. A person was crying yesterday” And you prayed for her, Doxie ?" the girl asked softly. “Yes, I prayed,” little Doxie answered her simply; "and she is not crying to-night." "No, indeed, she is not. She looks so calm. I want you to pray for me to-night, Doxie dear." I always do, of course," said Doxie; " and brothers and sisters, and take care of me this night evermore. Amen." "Yes, but I want you to say more than that tonight, dear." "What am I to say ?" the child asked, looking up with innocent, glad eyes in her sister's face. Madelon spoke hesitatingly, as if the framing her sad thoughts for the little one's hearing was difficult to her. "There is a great trouble come, Doxie, and papa is very, very unhappy; and I am unhappy-" Madelon caught her breath suddenly, only just in time to prevent a sob. "THE QUIVER" BIBLE CLASS. 215. Name the occasion on which man first exercised the power of speech. 216. Who was the Apollo of the Greeks, and the inventor of wind and stringed instruments? 217. How many patriarchs form the bridge that connects the creation with the deluge, and across “And mamma is unhappy," said Doxie, supposing what period of years does it stretch? that to be the end of the sentence. "No-no, Doxie, mamma is not unhappy; God has made dear mamma happy." "Oh," said little Doxie, and kneeled down at her sister's feet. "O God!" she said, in her sweet childish voice, "I am so very, very glad you have made dear mamma happy. O you good God, make poor Madelon happy quite through the bad trouble. 'It's all right now," said little Doxie, when, as she rose from her knees, she found that her sister was crying; "you won't feel unhappy long, now. God is going to take care of you." Madelon walked across the nursery floor, which was shining and sparkling in the white light, holding little Doxie in her arms. She deposited the child in her snowy little bed, and kissed the pretty, tired eyes that, despite little Doxie, were beginning to close of themselves. Madelon was leaving the room, when Doxie's sleepy little voice, soft like some distant echo, arrested her. "How good of Him to make dear mamma happy!" And Madelon dried her tears. 1 218. For the first 987 years of the world three cases of departure from this life occurred in different ways. Name them. 219. Who was the first patriarch who, by a natural death, departed this life before his father; and mention a subsequent instance notified as such in the Bible. 220. How many women are mentioned by name in the Bible from the creation till twenty centuries after? ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS ON PAGE 448. 199. 2 Chron xxiv. 21, 22; Luke xi. 51. 200. That in the upper room, awaiting with the apostles the outpouring of the Holy Ghost (Acts i. 14). 201. He that ruleth his spirit (Prov. xvi. 32). 202. " 'Whosoever committeth sin is the servant (slave) of sin" (John viii. 34). 203. In connection with the mother of Sisera (Judg. v. 30). 204. The high priest (Lev. xxi. 14). SUBSCRIPTIONS TO "THE QUIVER COT FUND."-SECOND LIST. A TALE OF TO-DAY. 66 BY THE AUTHOR OF ESTHER WEST," ETC. ETC. CHAPTER XIV.-THE LAST LINK. ELLY went out now with the Macnaughtens, like any other young lady of her age. In the winter evenings she had learned to sing, and enjoyed music greatly. Miss Macnaughten found that NE VOL. V. she had seen little society; and so, gathering together two or three young friends who lived in the neighbourhood, she got up a series of little parlour parties, at which, from being an onlooker, Nelly soon began 242 to take an active part in assisting at charades and young ladies not to be alarmed, should they come other amusements. down before I return. I shall be back again in less than half an hour.” The New Year had come, and they were going to a large party. Nelly's preparations had been very simple, and she was dressed in her evening dress of plain white net, lightly trimmed with black, long before the other two were ready. It was Nelly's first and only party dress; but Jane and Grace found it difficult to choose among theirs. Nelly had gone into their room to help them in this important particular, and had just persuaded Jane-who, seeing her looking lovely in her airy net, was inclined to wear her Limerick lace-to put on a newer dress of amber satin, which showed her brilliant dark complexion to the best advantage, when the servant called her away. Some one was waiting for her in the morning room, with a message from her mother. As they drove along, Nelly laid her hand on Miss Macnanghten's, and she, though not given to cares sing, held it in one of her own. When they reached the house, the woman, rather more collected than before, informed them that Mrs. Chapelle was asleep—that she had run up-stairs every half hour after getting her to bed, and found her sleeping. They stole into the room where she lay. To Nelly she seemed profoundly slumbering; but to Miss Macnaughten's ear the deep, hard breathing signified something other than natural repose. They watched her for a few minutes in silence, and then, telling Nelly to stay quietly beside her mother, Miss Macnaughten hurried away. She flew down-stairs. A respectable-looking woman," I will send the doctor," she said, "and come again past middle age, rose from her seat as she entered myself, to-night;" and she left her. the room, and she recognised the keeper of the lodging-house in which her mother lived. "Nelly's mother is ill," Miss Macnaughten had said to Jane and Grace, when she returned and found "I'm sorry to trouble you, miss; but I thought it them waiting, and rather nervous about what had right to come for you at onc't, you see.” my happened. "I have left her with her, and shall call Nelly cut her short. "Has anything happened to as we return." mother?" she asked. "What is the matter?" she said, addressing the enjoy it half so much." woman in her tones of command. "Mrs. Chapelle was seized with a kind of fit this afternoon, and I thought I would come round and let the young lady know." 'What else could we do?” replied her sister. "It would have been absurd to take off our things and sit moping in the house because she was obliged to stay at home with her mother. Only fancy how such "You ought to have come at once," said Miss an excuse would sound." Macnaughten. "Of course it would be absurd," answered Grace, "but it seems hard-hearted to go, all the same." The party was at the house of an eminent physician, whose young wife had been an élève of Miss Macnaughten's, and who added a love of gaiety and social distinction to a very considerable love and knowledge of literature. Her parties were very pleasant, and the Macnaughtens were frequently invited. Music and conversation were the usual "Oh, thank you!" and Nelly kissed Miss Mac-entertainments provided, but sometimes a little naughten fervently, and leant for a moment, as if dancing closed the evening. The host generally for support, upon her ample bosom. "You must wrap up, though," said Miss Macnaughten; and, seeing Nelly look utterly oblivious, she went and fetched a thick cloak, wrapped her up in it, and, throwing on her own, led the way to the door, saying, "Come with us, my good woman." To the servant who opened the door, she said, "Tell the made his appearance only towards the close, and on the brother of the hostess, Mr. Dalrymple, devolved the duty of helping to make the evening as agreeable as possible. He did not find his task a difficult one. Every one was willing to find the attentions of a par ticularly handsome man, possessed of a nice property, agreeable. He did not dance, though his youth TWO YEARS. could hardly be said to be over. He had no objection to the amusement, but did not like it; so when dancing commenced he was given over to the dowagers. On such occasions he looked out for Miss Macnaughten and enjoyed her racy talk. He had also found out that Nelly could talk on some subjects; and as Jane and Grace had each given him a version of her history, he frequently did talk to her in this way. The guests had assembled when the Macnaughtens arrived. The host they encountered at the top of the stairs, just in the doorway of the drawingroom, where his jolly face would be seen at intervals throughout the evening, taking care, as Miss Macnaughten told him, not to breathe the atmosphere within. The hostess was doing duty not very far off, receiving her friends as they entered. Mr. Dalrymple was, as usual, on the look-out: he always seemed on the look-out for some one who never came. When the footman announced the Macnaughtens, he gave a start forward, but remained where he was till they had shaken hands with his sister. Then he advanced to meet them, with always that look beyond, which was more marked to-night than ordinary. He had a sentence for each-grave for the elder lady, smart for Jane, and pretty for Grace. Then he asked abruptly, "What has become of Miss Chapelle ?" Miss Macnaughten answered, "Her mother has had a rather sudden seizure, and she has been obliged to stay with her." "Indeed, I am very sorry," said Mr. Dalrymple. "She meant to enjoy herself," said Jane; "so you are none the worse." "Did she ?" he said absently. They were still standing, when one gentleman came up to speak to Miss Jane, and another presented himself to her sister. "We may go to the wall now," said Mr. Dalrymple, addressing Miss Macnaughten, and offering her his arm with a smile; 'my duties will be exceedingly light to-night." They sat for some time in silence, Miss Macnaughten watching through her gold eye-glass the movements of her charges. She made up her mind that Jane was not looking so well as usual. She did not seem in spirits. It was Mr. Dalrymple who spoke first. He also had been following the two slight figures, as, they flitted about in evident enjoyment among the other guests. 483 "And she is under your care till her marriage takes place ?" "Who told you about her marriage ?" asked his companion. "Oh, those girls! I ought not to have trusted them." "I fear I must not attempt to screen my informants; but I will venture to defend them. It is not fair to allow a young lady of Miss Chapelle's attractions to go about under false pretences: she might do any amount of damage." Nelly has not a spark of coquetry about her, and is, I believe, very much satisfied with her intended husband." "Satisfied! Is that all you can say? I thought there was something doubtful about the engagement," and his face brightened. "If it is not a breach of confidence, he added, "would you tell me all about it ?" "I don't think I ought," she answered. "I would not like Jane and Grace talked over, and neither do I like Nelly's engagement to be canvassed. You have no right to know," she added, mischievously. "I have the best possible right," he answered, speaking low and earnestly. “My own happiness is at stake in the matter." Miss Macnaughten looked up keenly in his face to make sure that he was serious, and what she read there made her serious too. "The sooner you give up every thought of the kind the better," she replied, kindly but unsympathisingly. "Nelly is bound by every tie of love, and honour, and gratitude to a most deserving young man." "I wish I had been that deserving young man," he said, trying to put a cheerful face on the matter, and looking rueful. "You must keep my counsel," he added. She promised, and he rose and turned away; and Miss Macnaughten saw him no more till suppertime. She was lost in astonishment at what had taken place. There was a man who might pick and choose among a hundred or so, and his choice must fall on Nelly-on Nelly who was engaged already, and whom he had not met more than half-a-dozen times; while Jane and Grace, whom he had known as many years, were passed by. Well, there was no accounting for tastes. After supper, Miss Macnaughten and her nieces left; the former, according to her promise, to call "I am sorry you were not able to persuade Miss on Nelly. Chapelle to come," he said. "What was Mr. Dalrymple talking about so ear "I never thought of persuading her," Miss Mac-nestly ?" inquired Jane, during the drive. naughten replied; "her mother was much too ill to be left. She is dying, I fear, though I did not say so for fear of shocking the girls." "Then she will be alone in the world, will she not: she has no other relations ?" "None that I know of." Miss Macnaughten hesitated: she was the worst person in the world to tell a secret to: she was sure to let it out. "Nothing very particular, love," she answered. 'Oh, aunty!" laughed Grace, "I'm sure it was. That's the way you speak when you don't want us to |