orrowful thing. Dr. Jeremy, who shared her curiosity,
asked a few questions, in hopes to obtain some clue to his new friend's
history; but in vain. Mr. Phillips' lips were sealed on the subject.

The doctor now felt very weary, and seating themselves by the roadside,
they awaited the arrival of the coach. There had been a short silence,
when the doctor, looking at Gertrude, remarked, "There will be no church
for us to-morrow, Gerty."

"No church," exclaimed Gerty, gazing about her with a look of reverence;
"how _can_ you say so?"

Mr. Phillips smiled, and said in a peculiar tone, "There is no Sunday
here, Miss Flint; it doesn't come up so high."

He spoke lightly--too lightly, Gertrude thought--and she replied with
some seriousness and much sweetness, "I have often rejoiced that the
Sabbath has been sent _down_ into the _lower_ earth; the higher we go
the nearer we come, I trust, to the eternal Sabbath."

Mr. Phillips bit his lip, and turned away without replying. There was an
expression about his mouth which Gertrude did not like; but she could
not find it in her heart to reproach him for the slight sneer which his
manner, rather than his look, implied; for as he gazed a moment or two
into vacancy there was in his absent countenance such a look of sorrow
that she could only pity and wonder. The coaches now came up, and, as he
placed her in her former seat, he resumed his wonted serene and kind
expression, and she felt convinced that it was only doing justice to his
frank and open face to believe that nothing was hid behind it that would
not do honour to the man.

An hour brought them to the Mountain House, and to their joy they were
shown to some of the most excellent rooms the hotel afforded. As
Gertrude stood at the window of the chamber allotted to herself and
Emily, and heard the loud murmurs of some of her fellow-travellers who
were denied any tolerable accommodation, she could not but be astonished
at Dr. Jeremy's unusual good fortune. Emily, being greatly fatigued with
the toilsome journey, had supper brought to her own room, and Gertrude
partaking of it with her, neither of them sought other society that
night, but at an early hour went to rest. The last thing that Gertrude
heard before falling asleep was the voice of Dr. Jeremy saying, as he
passed their door, "Take care, Gerty, and be up in time to see the sun
rise."

But she was not up in time, nor was the doctor; neither of them had
calculated upon