age. And she ought to have that happiness
after such a life as hers."

Graeme sighed, and was silent.

"If we had golden guineas to bestow on her, where we have copper coins
only, we could never repay her love and care for us all; and it will be
a matter of thankfulness to me to know that she is secure in a home of
her own for the rest of her life."

"But, papa, while we have a home, she will never be without one."

"I know, dear, while we have a home. You need not tell me that; but
Graeme, there is only my frail life between you and homelessness. Not
that I fear for you. You are all young and strong, and the God whom I
have sought to serve, will never leave my children. But Janet is
growing old, Graeme, and I do think this way has been providentially
opened to her."

"If it were quite right to marry for a home, papa--" Graeme hesitated
and coloured. Her father smiled.

"Mrs Nasmyth is not so young as you, my dear. She will see things
differently. And besides, she always liked and respected Mr Snow. I
have no doubt she will be very happy with him."

"We all liked him," said Graeme, sighing. "But oh! I dread changes. I
can't bear to break up our old ways."

"Graeme," said her father, gravely, "changes must come, and few changes
can be for the better, as far as we are concerned. We have been very
happy of late--so happy that I fear we were in danger of sitting down
contented with the things of this life, and we need reminding. We may
think ourselves happy if no sadder change than this comes to us."

The thought of Menie came back to Graeme, with a pang, but she did not
speak.

"I know, dear," said her father, kindly, "this will come hardest upon
you. It will add greatly to your cares to have Mrs Nasmyth leave us,
but you are not a child now, and--"

"Oh, papa! it is not that--I mean it is not that altogether, but--"
Graeme paused. She was not sure of her voice, and she could not bear to
grieve her father. In a little, she asked.

"When is it to be?"

"I don't know, indeed, but soon, I suppose; and my dear child, I trust
to you to make smooth much that might otherwise be not agreeable in this
matter to us all. The change you dread so much, will not be very great.
Our kind friend is not going very far-away, and there will be pleasant
things connected with the change. I have no doubt, it will be for the
best."

"Shall I light your lamp, papa?" said Graeme, in a little while.

"No, love