tunity
offered by the loss of his children, to press upon him the necessity of
a reformation in his own course of life, which, I am thankful to say,
has been gradually effected. They became very intimate, and, I suppose
by mutually comparing notes concerning Old England, found one another
out, so to say. But he seldom spoke of me. If my sister tried to draw
him into the subject of his acquaintance with me, he changed it as soon
as possible, as if it were disagreeable to him. And no wonder.

'However, my sister looks upon this man as her greatest benefactor--him,
whom I, in my pride and ignorance, considered beneath me in every
respect; and when he left Melbourne a year or two ago, she said they had
lost their best and dearest earthly friend, and that the children cried
when he wished them good-bye, as if they were parting from a father.'

Whilst Miss Hall was telling this simple narrative, Freda was very
attentive. As it drew to a close, she rose from her drawing, and
kneeling, as she sometimes would do, by Miss Hall's side, put her arm
affectionately round her. There was something in the action at that
moment which drew tears from Miss Hall's eyes.

'But he is not married, Serena, I know he is not married,' she
exclaimed. 'Who knows!'

'My dear child,' said Miss Hall, smiling, and stroking Freda's shining
hair, 'I have long given up all thoughts of matrimony. But the
recollection of old times always affects me, and your love affects me
still more. I have not told you this because I regret not being married
to Mr Jones--it was mercifully ordained that I should not marry any one.
What would my dear father have done if I had? but simply to show you how
the very people we think the least of frequently become our best
friends; the "weak things of the earth confounding those that are
mighty," in scripture phrase.'

'Oh, Serena! do you hear?' interrupted Freda, 'there is Miss Nugent in
the hall. Of all the bores! we never can be free from those people. Yes
it is; I hear her _lithp_;' and Miss Nugent was announced.

She had walked over, she said, to ask how they all were after the
delightful Harvest Home, and to bring an invitation from her mamma to
dinner the following Tuesday.

'I do hope you will come, Freda, and you, Mith Hall, and bring that
charming Colonel Vaughan with you. He ith tho nithe. Don't you think
tho.'

'Very,' said Freda, drily.

'But, do you know, I don't admire him half ath much ath Mr Rowland