to meet her again. They kissed her
affectionately and assured her of the happiness of their new life.

"When you were without a home," said the farmer, with tears in his
eyes, "we received you and your father into our own, and now that we
are old and had no place that we could call our own, you give us this
charming cottage in which we might spend our declining years."

"Yes," said his wife, "it is always well to be generous and hospitable.
We never know how soon we shall receive it again."

"Well, well," said her husband, "I am glad we did not think of that
then. We took Mary and her father in without hope of reward. However,
the maxim is not the less true, 'Do good to others and you will always
find some one to do good to you.'"

When Mary entered the cottage, the sight of the place where her father
used to sit raised a host of sad but sweet recollections in her mind.
She walked round the garden and kissed every tree planted by his hand,
seeing in each an old acquaintance. The little apple tree which had
been their favourite, was just now covered with blossom, and before it
she stopped to meditate for a little on man's brief life, which fades
away before the tree which he has planted. In the arbour where she had
passed so many happy hours with her father, she rested a little, and
gave herself up to reflection. Looking around on the garden, which he
had cultivated so diligently by the sweat of his brow, she fancied that
she could still see him, and tears streamed from her eyes, when she
remembered that he had gone from her for ever. But one thought soothed
her heart and made her calm, the thought that he had gone to a better
world, and was now reaping the reward of his beautiful life.

As long as Mary lived she spent some weeks every spring at the Castle,
cherished and honoured by every one there, and endearing herself to the
people of the village, and particularly to the children, among whom she
was a great favourite. Her delight was to take them apart and to talk
to them of the Saviour, and she had the happiness of believing that
many of them under her instructions gave their hearts to God.

A monument had been erected to her father in fulfilment of a promise
which Amelia had made to Mary that evening when she found her sitting
on her father's grave. It was an elegant monument of white marble,
ornamented with an epitaph in gold letters. Besides the name of the
deceased, his age and occupation, nothing in the wa