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He resolved, long before the arrival of daylight, to visit Mr. Hope again - this time to ask him to spend an evening at the Hall. He found himn in, but more shy, if aught, than before. He couldn't say then if he could come ; time was to him very precious. Mr. Hunt mentioned his library as an inducement. But what is that in the doorway that first blanches and then mantles the face of the tenant of Winnley Hall? It is a tall, wellbuilt figure, that answers to the name of Ware. It answers slowly, coldly, though. This is a very important discovery. He'll soon be at the bottom of the well. Not so soon, may be! For see! The figure-Mr. Ware, uncle to the deceased Miss Ware, with whom Mr. Hunt became acquainted when wooing that lady-wheels round, and stalks along the passage. There is a touch of scorn in his eye, and of indignation in his manner. Those in the room bear him snatch up and caress a child, and say to it :

“ Thou'lt never be a deceiver, I hope, darling. Let thee find a home in yon quiet graveyard sooner!”

A deceiver! The word was clearly meant for his ears. Then had he become, by some mystic chemistry, unconsciously, a hollow, villaivons, dissembler. The whole proceeding smote him with the profoundest perplexity ; more, it stirred within him a pulse of keenest agony, and threw around recent events a shade of deepest, darkest mystery. Of course he felt ill at ease, anything rather than at home, beneath a roof where were entertained such views and convictions respecting him. His rery presence must be insupportable to the house; hence, having received the promise of a visit that evening from Mr. Hope, he took a hasty departure.

The rev. gentleman was a welcome-though not a talkative, not even a cheerful-guest at Winnley Hall. To talk, to be cheerful, entered, hor. ever, prominently into Mr. Hunt's programme. He was determined to be understood by, if possible, and to understand, Mr. Hope. Not merely was that look an inducement. There were the additional inducements of Mr. Ware's vile insinuation and the rev. gentleman's altered manner. He would give him his history ; lay bare his heart. As they sat alone after supper, he did so; did so without reserve. The his. tory was graphic; the heart-dissection minute. Mr. Hope felt the throbbings of the former; saw each bleeding fibre of the latter. When be had placed in a clear light the great fact of his history-of his life-his guest, who had bit his nails and thrust back his bair times innumerable, and toyed hard with his pencil-case, jumped suddenly to his feet, and asked, looking earnestly, even sternly, at Mr. Hunt, if what he said were true. Of course it was. Why? He desired that no questions might be pressed on him. He wished for solemn affirmation ; for reiteration of affirmation. Mr. Hunt obliged him. He then begged to be excused, promising to return in an hour. Stranger still! The mystery seemed deeper than ever! Un. fathomable!

In less than an hour there was a knocking at the door. Not Mr. Hope-he had been summoned to a death-bed-but Mr. Ware. His. face beamed with smiles, and his hand exercised its wonted, warm

pressure. Mr. Hope had spoken to, and sent him. Explanations, and vows of eternal friendship, followed. It appeared that Mrs. Hope was the “married relative"-sister to the late Miss Ware--with whom the uncle and his other niece “ had gone to reside;" that they had been made to believe, by the jealous landlord, that Mr. Hunt was unfaithful, treacherous ; that his long absence in the north of Ireland, coupled with his silence, during which Miss Ware died, bad unfortunately confirmed the calumnies of the crafty widower ; that after the Christmas entertainment, Mr. Ware surmised he must be the same Mr. Hunt he had known; and that when he visited them, and when Mrs. Hope, who snatched up the child from the doorway, saw it was the same—she had seen him at her sister's—they were all indignant, and resolved not to receive either the visits or patronage of one capable of acting so unprincipled, so perfidious a part, as trifling with the affections of a lady whose very life was in her love.

Mr. Hunt approved all they had done. He indulged in no censure ; cherished no unkind feeling. He himself was solely to blame. He ought not to have tarried so long; to have been so sparing of letters. If they would allow him, he would do whatever he might be able in the way of reparation.

How cheerful Mr. Ware was! What could it mean? Perhaps his niece was not dead ? He had found it difficult to realise the fact, and ventured to express a hope that they had been deceiving him. No-she was dead. Yes-she was dead. How strange! More mystery! Why that hesitancy?

" Then I am miserable for life, sir.”

“Oh not so, Mr. Hunt! Hope not. Hope on, sir. Hope ever.” What does he mean?

“ Miss Ware is really dead, sir ?"
“ Yes-yes-she is dead. She's dead, sir."

In no figurative sense ?" "Oh dear, no!”

Mr. Ware became sad and silent. Whilst he mused, our friend Hunt conceived a grand idea-a substantial New Year's gift to Mr. Hope. It would be some amends; and what a luxury to him—the tenant of Winnley Hall! He mentioned it to Mr. Ware.

“Do, sir, do. Yes; he's just what he seems; except-except that he's a hundred times more worthy than an on-looker would suppose."

It was agreed there should be a party, a family-party; and Mr. Hunt agreed with himself that there should be something beside,-a present for each, up to Mrs. Hope, and down to the baby. He called to invite them to the Hall. The first of January was the day fixed on, as a matter of course. He was deeply struck with Mrs. Hope's face and figure. How like her sister! Was there some mistake? Was she Mre. Hope ? Yes, without a doubt she was. Was her sister dead? Yes. But why that smile? It was torture to himn.

The same day he popped off to , to have another look at the grave, and to see the sexton. A stone had been erected to the memory of Miss

Ware. There was, now, no more room for doubt. On the stone he offered to her worth a tribute of sighs and tears.

Shortly after his return, he received a visit from his friend Ware. Instead of insisting on the family coming to the Hall, would he, Mr. Hunt, join them at home on New Year's Day? He besitated. But he must. Mr. Ware wished to present to him a small New Year's gift, in his foolish, eccentric way, and it could not be done elsewhere. It would put Mr. Hope to expense. Oh, but Mr. Ware would look to that. At length he was constrained to consent; conditionally, that Mr. Ware would accept of something towards the cost of the entertainment, and promise that it should be as little formal as practicable.

We need not inform the reader that the day was looked forward to with intense excitement and immense expectations, -by the children, at least. Nor need we add-although we do add-that it was anticipated with no smail degree of interest by Mr. Hunt. Well, it came,-and dinner hour came,-and the guest came, loaded with presents for the little ones, and carrying something in his purse not less acceptable to those of larger growth. It was a merry hour, the family meal; and merrier still, that which witnessed the distribution of the presents; and even merrier than either, that which was allowed the children for play. Never had there been so much of life, of joy, of sunshine--although a damp, cold atmosphere did embosom the dark earth--in the home of the Rev. Mr. Hope.

But what did Mr. Ware mean by a New Year's gift to Mr. Hunt? And where was he? And why were Mr. and Mrs. Hope so fidgety? And why didn't they call in the children, and begin tea? What was the meaning of that hush outside ? And the measured pace of that procession along the passage? And who was that leaning on the arm of Mr. Ware-pale, slender, fair ? And why should her appearance startle Mr. Hunt? And then send a cold tremor through his framo? And, ultimately, drive him to the verge of a delirium of joy ? And why should Mr. Ware make a present of her to Mr. Hunt? And what did they mean by rushing out of the room, and leaving the lady alono with their new friend and guest? The answer to these questions is found in the fact, that Miss Ware and Jane Ware were not one person, as Mr. Hunt had supposed, but two. Miss Ware was dead, but Jane lired, and that evening took tea at the same table with her lover, happy and hopeful. It was a bold experiment, Mr. Ware, and might have proved a serious shock to your friend ! Fortu. wately all was right. It was, indeed, a valuable New Year's gift!

We have done when we have added that Jane became a happy wife; that Mr. Hope found a friend ; that his children found a second home; and that Mr. Hunt never deserted those paths of charity in which he had found a lost treasure, and by which he had been led into acquaintance with a wisdom which is a better than the merchandise of silver; yea, than fine gold.”

“I have taught thee in the way of wisdom ; I have led thee in right pathe."


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beyond description. Evangelino rose,

and shut the heavy doors betworn SON E, 1 the rooms,--it seemed impossible to Dand on enjoy the tea which had been placed

Christ. upon a table at Ler side, unless she

mas Eve! could forget the vacant chairs and (G The cheerless hearth which lay in shadow

words beyond them. She drew a readingSwere easel towards her as she sat down,

spoken in and, from a pile of new bcoks on a sadness rather than | couch behind her chair, selected a discontent. Evange- pcem which, at another time, would line Herbert was not have been deeply interesting. But wont to rebel against though she began to read with the the decrees of Provi. air of one who is deterrnined to be

dence, and tbat her absorbed in occupation, one glance at ) loneliness that night the blazing coals sufficed to awaken

was of God's appoint reflections which it was scarcely ment she did not for a moment possible to banish. Her thoughts doubt. The path of duty had been went back to the Christmas of "lang mnade plain to her when, a few weeks syne,” to days in which the sunshino before, her uncle and his family had of a mother's smile had brightened been invited to spend Christmas her existence, to hours in which the beneath the roof of a patrician warmth of Christian love had wado gambler, whose title, in the opinion a place of less pretension home. of the world, was sufficient to hide 1 Evangeline had been nursed in a multitude of sins. She could not luxury. It was a common thing to go, because her standard of rectitude her to wear costly garments, and sit was a book in which she read, “See in splendid rooms, and shut out then, that ye walk circumspectly, not everything distasteful to a refined as fools, but as wise, redeeming the and cultivated taste. At twenty she time, because the days are evil.” And had been left an orphan, but her yet, that evening, as she sat beside orphanhood had rather increased thall the fire, and remembered with what lessened her temptations to self-ineagerness her cousins had left her to dulgence, for her father, by his will, spend a solitary Christmas, tears required her to reside with his elder glistened in the light which the log brother until she should attain the threw upon her pensive face, and her age of five-and-twenty. The Herheart yearned for human sympathy. berts of Roster were a gay and worldly

The drawing-room in which she sat family, but they received their young was small but lofty. It communi relative graciously, and gave her all cated by folding-doors with another, she asked, except love and sympathy. and both were tastefully and even The years which followed were luxuriously furnished. I'he stainless devoted by Evangeline to music, paper on the walls was of white painting, and the acquisition of relieved by gold, and curtains of rich several languages. She went but damask hid the windows. On every seldom into society, for her aunt's hand were couches, chairs, and circle was ultra-fashionable, and soliottomans, arranged in a very orderly tude was preferable to the ball-room confusion, beside tables covered with or the card-table. It was a peculiar rare treasures from many lands; life for one so young. while, from the ceiling of each room,

“Alone, and on Christmas Evo!” depended a chandelier of peculiar for the second time the words were grace and beauty. With a few friends, spoken, as, thrusting aside her books, the place would, on such a night, Evangeline crossed the room to her have been one of the most desirable

piano, and sat down to express, as on earth--without them it was lonely! far as possible, the thoughts of her

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heart in music, Soothing and low at those of her young mistress. A pang
first, but gradually rising into a full of self-reproach shot through Evan-
burst of harmony, the sound appeared | geline's heart, as she remembered
to float upon the air, to fill the room, how seldom she had thanked God
to mount to God's heaven of glory, I heartily, for giving her “so much,
to bear her with it into the very but she only said, “Go on.”
midst of the unseen and eternal. It “I heard it all, Miss Herbert, **
seemed most natural, after that, to continued Rebecca, "and, whether I
pray, to tell God all the story of her would or no, it melted me. I under-
loneliness, to ask him to direct and stood it better than you would think.
comfort her. She knelt, and her cry You have your troubles, too, and you
was heard. With hope and courage are wiser than I am, for you ask
in her soul, Evangeline Herbert rose, God to help you to bear them
and as she did so a slight movement well."
in the next room attracted her atten. The girl was excited, yet her tone
tion, and gave her reason to suspect was quiet and respectful. Evange-
that she had been overheard. Advanc- line was touched by the ready sym-
ing to the folding doors, and suddenly pathy which she bestowed at a time
throwing them open, she discovered when a less generous heart would
Rebecca, her maid, in tears over an have been absorbed in its own dis-
open letter. The girl was a stranger tress. She was relieved, too, by the
whom Mrs. Herbert had engaged consciousness that she had found a
before leaving home, but Evange sphere ; that although none might
line's eyes grew dim, and her voice minister to her, she had the power
trembled, as she inquired the cause of of ministering to otbers; that the
all this sorrow.

very wealth which had seemed to
“My brother, Miss Herbert,” re mock her loneliness might be the
plied the poor girl sobbing, “my means of spreading joy around her.
only brother is dying, but it was “Rebecca,” she exclaimed, after a
your prayer just now that made me few moments' thought, “Your friends
cry. I could not help it, I heard reside in London ; I will go with you
almost every word.”

and see what can be done. Tell
At this Miss Herbert started, but Robert to get a cab, while I ask Mrs.
said nothing.

Bond to accompany me.”
“My sister is a fine scholar, Rebecca hesitated. “It is a poor
ma'am,” pursued the girl, “for we | place, Miss Evangeline,” she argued,
have seen better days, and she wrote *not fit for the like of you." But
what the doctor said-how Willie Miss Evangeline only smiled, and
was dying for want of jellies and went her way.
things, and how she and mother, not The housekeeper's room was warm
being strong, could scarcely earn and comfortable, her tea-tray had
enough to buy common food-let been carried out, and she was pre-
alone dainties like that. She told paring for a quiet three hours
mne to ask leave to go home to-night knitting, when Miss Herbert came
and see him. I came up the back downstairs. She did not like to be
stairs, so I had to cross this room disturbed, for she was by no means
Before I could get to you. I did not of a generous disposition :"What,"
crv, for I was angry with God and she asked mentally, “were all the
everybody; I thought of all the poor in the world to her, on Christmas
furniture in this great house, and
how a thousandth part of the money “To-night, Miss Evangeline," she
it cost would buy my little brother cried, “and to see a dying child; is it
such things as would save his life. I

compared myself-just out of the “Yes, Mrs. Bond, it is possible.
hospital-and miserably poor, with I have decided, and, if you please, I
you, so rich and prosperous, and I will have you for a companion."
asked why you had so much and I Her manner was irresistible, and
so little. Then I came on towards Mrs. Bond prepared to go. Perhaps
these doors, and listened. You were some vision of a more costly Christ.

mas gift than usual flitted before her
Rebecca paulsed, and her eyes inct ! mental vision as Miss Herbert turned

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