very best that could have happened. I'll never
give way to unbelief again!"

Poor Otto! He did not at that time know how deeply doubt and unbelief
are ingrained in the human heart. He did not know that man has to be
convinced again and again, and over again, before he learns to hope
against hope, and to believe heartily at all times that, "He doeth all
things well."

It was with very mingled feelings that the Rigondas, Dr Marsh, and
Brown-eyes parted next day from the friends with whom they had
associated so long. It is no exaggeration to say that there was
scarcely a dry eye in the two vessels; for, while the settlers wept for
sorrow, the crews and passengers wept more or less from sympathy. Even
the dead-eyes of the ship, according to Malone, shed tears! As for poor
Brown-eyes, who was a prime favourite with many of her old friends, male
and female, before she got away she had been almost crushed out of
existence by strong arms, and her eyes might have been pea-green or pink
for anything you could tell, so lost were they in the swollen lids.
Long after the vessels had separated the settlers continued to shout
words of good-will and blessing, "We'll never forgit ye, Miss Pauline,"
came rolling after them in the strong tones of Joe Binney. "God bless
you, Miss," came not less heartily from Hugh Morris. "We loves ye,
darlint," followed clear and shrill from the vigorous throat of the
widow Lynch, and a wild "Hooray!" from Teddy endorsed the sentiment.
Nobbs, the blacksmith, and little Buxley, ran up the rigging to make the
waving of their caps more conspicuous, and when faces could no longer be
distinguished and voices no longer be heard, the waving of kerchiefs
continued until the rounding of a cape suddenly shut them all out from
view for ever.

"Thank God," said Dr Marsh, with a voice deepened and tremulous from
emotion, "that though they have lost their queen, they shall never lose
the sweet influences she has left behind her."

The great ocean steamer had now cleared the land; her mighty engines
seemed to throb with joy at being permitted once more to, "Go ahead,
full speed," and soon she was cleaving her way grandly through the
broad-backed billows of the Southern sea--homeward bound!

Let us leap on in advance of her.

The little old lady with the gold spectacles and neat black cap, and
smooth, braided hair, is seated in her old arm-chair, with the old sock,
apparently--though it must have been the