es, "I think that if I have to
endure much more of the anguish which I sometimes suffer, or get any
more shocks, I shall go mad? I try to look to the future only and to
rise superior to my sorrows, and to a certain extent I succeed, but my
mind will not always carry the strain put upon it, but falls heavily
to earth like a winged bird. Then it is that, deprived of its higher
food, and left to feed upon its own sadness and to brood upon the bare
fact of the death of the man I loved--I sometimes think, as men are
not often loved--that my spirit almost breaks down. If you can tell me
any cure, anything which will bring me comfort, I shall indeed be
grateful to you."

"I think I can, Angela. If you will no longer devote yourself to
study, you have only to look round to find another answer to your
question as to what you are to do? Are there no poor in these parts
for you to visit? Cannot your hands make clothes to cover those who
have none? Is there no sickness that you can nurse, no sorrow that you
can comfort? I know that even in this parish there are many homes
where your presence would be as welcome as a sunbeam in winter.
Remember, Angela, that grief can be selfish as well as pleasure."

"You are right, Mr. Fraser, you always are right; I think I am selfish
in my trouble, but it is a fault that I will try to mend. Indeed, to
look at it in that light only, my time is of no benefit to myself, I
may as well devote it to others."

"If you do, your labour will bring its own reward, for in helping
others to bear their load you will wonderfully lighten your own. Nor
need you go far to begin. Why do you not see more of your own father?
You are naturally bound to love him. Yet it is but rarely that you
speak to him."

"My father! you know he does not like me, my presence is always a
source of irritation to him, he cannot even bear me to look at him."

"Oh, surely that must be your fancy; probably he thinks you do not
care about him. He has always been a strange and wayward man, I know,
but you should remember that he has had bitter disappointments in
life, and try to soften him and win him to other thoughts. Do this and
you will soon find that he will be glad enough of your company."

"I will try to do as you say, Mr. Fraser, but I confess I have only
small hopes of any success in that direction. Have you any parish work
I can do?"

Nor did the matter end there, as is so often the case where parish
work and young ladie