er arms about
his neck. "I 'll never, never leave you. Who would take care of you
if I were gone?"

The Rector smiled; but the old man answered gravely, "I know I shall
miss you, dear, very much; but the Lord will care for me, and He it is
who has provided this home for my darling. I bless His name for His
loving-kindness. You have always been a good, obedient child to me,
and I know you will obey me, even when I send you away from me,--for
your best good, mind, my darling."

Ruth still wept, and begged to be allowed to stay with him; but her
grandfather was firm, and she yielded at last. He led her to the
Rectory, kissed and blessed her, and placed her in the arms of Mrs.
Kingsley, then hobbled out of the gate, and back to his desolate
cottage, as fast as his poor old limbs could carry him.

Ruth was very sad all the afternoon, though everybody was kind to her,
and her new mother strove tenderly to comfort her. As evening came on,
her heart would go back to the humble old home, and the white-haired,
feeble old man, who she knew must be thinking of her, and missing her
so sadly. At length, Mrs. Kingsley conducted her to a pleasant little
chamber, which was henceforth to be her own. The good lady helped her
to undress, put on her a dainty little ruffled nightgown, and knelt
with her by her bedside while she said her prayers. After praying in a
broken voice for her poor old grandpapa in his loneliness, the child
remembered to ask God's blessing on her new parents. After seeing her
in her snowy little bed, Mrs. Kingsley removed Ruth's clothes to a
closet near by, and brought out a complete suit of garments suited to
her new condition. They were very neat and pretty, and Ruth, who loved
all beautiful things, smiled on them through her tears, and reaching
out her hand, felt of them with simple, childish delight. Then a
strange, thoughtful look passing over her face, she said, "Mamma!" Mrs.
Kingsley started. It was the first time she had heard that name since
her Lilly died, though she had asked Ruth to call her by it when she
was first brought to the Rectory. But she answered, with a smile,
"What, my daughter?"

"Why, mamma, laying off my faded clothes and putting on those lovely
new ones will be like Lilly, leaving the poor, pale body she used to
have, for her glorious angel body, won't it?"

"Yes, darling," replied the mother, to whose heart the simple
illustration brought a sweet, wonderful realization