nterfere with her still nearer, still dearer ties at
home. She knew how Herbert would have loved and devoted himself to the
mother of his Mary, and in this, as in all things, she followed in his
steps. Untiringly would she listen to and speak on Mrs. Greville's
favourite theme, her Mary; and now she sat beside her, enlivening by
gentle converse the hours that must intervene ere Alfred came. There was
an expression of such calm, such chastened thanksgiving on Mrs.
Greville's features, changed as they were by years of sorrow, that none
could gaze on her without a kindred feeling stealing over the heart, and
in very truth those feelings seemed reflected on the young and lovely
countenance beside her. A pensive yet a sweet and pleasing smile rested
on Ellen's lips, and her dark eye shone softly bright in the light of
sympathy. Beautiful indeed were the orphan's features, but not the
dazzling beauty of early youth. If a stranger had gazed on her
countenance when in calm repose, he would have thought she had seen
sorrow; but when that beaming smile of true benevolence, that eye of
intellectual and soul-speaking beauty met his glance, as certain would
he have felt that sorrow, whatever it might have been, indeed had lost
its sting.

"It was such an evening, such an hour my Mary died," Mrs. Greville said,
as she laid her hand in Ellen's. "I thought not then to have reflected
on it with feelings such as now fill my heart. Oh, when I look back on
past years, and recall the prayers I have uttered in tears for my son,
my Alfred, the doubts, the fears that have arisen to check my prayer, I
wonder wherefore am I thus blessed."

"Our God is a God of truth, and He promiseth to answer prayer, dearest
Mrs. Greville," replied Ellen, earnestly; "and He is a God of love, and
will bless those who seek Him and trust in Him as you have done."

"He gave me grace to trust in Him, my child. I trusted, I doubted not He
would answer me in another world, but I thought not such blessing was
reserved for me in this. A God of love--ay, in my hour of affliction. I
have felt Him so. Oh, may the blessings of His loving-kindness shower
down upon me, soften yet more my heart to receive His glorious image."

She ceased to speak, but her lips moved still as in inward prayer. Some
few minutes elapsed, and suddenly the glowing light of the sun was
darkened, as by an intervening shadow. The mother raised her head, and
in another instant her son was at her fee