nd his triumph to conquer; and
"according to the days in which he had been afflicted was he now to be
made glad." Comparative prosperity was soon to be enjoyed; but would
he endure the trial of its deceitful ray as well as he had that of the
obscuring cloud? We shall see.

Months passed away with little change. Mrs. Walters resumed her
scolding and commanding, while Mr. Walters grumbled and found fault to
his heart's content. But Jem Taylor, kinder than ever to our hero, no
longer assailed him with temptation to do wrong, for he felt that
"Bill's" integrity was not to be moved.

Thomas Burton had found, from a newspaper, the owner of the purse, who
was a boy and the son of a distinguished artist living in the suburbs.
As he described the low-storeyed house, with its wealth of natural
beauty without and tasteful embellishment within, William's heart beat
loudly; surely that boy was one of the happy children whom he had seen
on the day he peeped into the school-room; and a feeling of
disappointment stole over him that he had not been able to deliver the
purse himself. This, however, soon subsided, when Thomas told him that
the family were all from home, and that he had left it with an old
gentleman, who was the only person he saw.

The gloomy days of winter had long passed by, and spring, with its
green grass and many-hued blossoms, had cheered the country with its
beauty; but now its task was ended, and the glowing summer was at
hand. The weary dwellers of the pent-up city were leaving in search of
pure air and variety; the dust-covered marble steps in front of many a
shut-up house proclaimed it deserted for the season, and business,
much to Mr. Walters' dissatisfaction, was very dull. Shoes, however,
had to be worn, and as he still continued to furnish the needed
article, he was often called upon, although not quite so frequently as
in the winter.

One day he came in with a pair of prunella boots in his hand, which he
told Bill to carry to the house of Mr. Stewart, a painter who lived in
the outskirts of the city. "They are for Mrs. Stewart, to whom you
took a pair of shoes last autumn," said he. "Go straight to Number 200
----Street, and then keep on to the end of the street. The family, it
seems, have gone there for fresh air, as if they could not breathe
that of the city as well as others."

Never had he received a more welcome commission. He even felt as if he
could have embraced his stern master for such an i