ent, and longed to see the home she had been
ruthlessly turned away from. This desire was intensified by a passion
to feel the thrilling of the sea winds that came from the moaning
ocean. What insufferable cruelty to refuse the appeal of a sweet girl
who had been wronged, and who was passing from earth and would soon be
put to rest in a grave within easy reach of the springy links and
glossy sands where so many days of her joyous girlhood had been spent
in innocent and jovial scenes! A last appeal was made to the hard old
squire, who, to do him justice, believed he was an instrument in the
hands of divine Providence to enforce the cultivation and carrying out
of high ideals. Human fallibility was not sanctioned on his demesne
outside his own personality or household. The poor, grief-stricken girl
wrote to him hoping that her wishes might become known to his wife and
touch her to have compassion, and her plan succeeded, for on receipt of
her letter permission was given to have her brought home. Here is the
simple, pleading request:

"SIR,--I ask you for pity's sake to forgive me and allow a poor
girl who is humbly and bitterly penitent, wrecked in body and soul,
to be taken from here to her father's home so that she may seek
forgiveness of him before she is called to appear before her God. I
have only a few weeks at the most left to me, and then I shall pass
from the scene of conflict and grief into that long sleep which
never endeth.

"I am, yours obediently,

"MARY ROUTLEDGE."

The day following the receipt of this letter Mary was brought home, and
the good Mrs Humbert engaged a nurse to look after her. Mr Logan, the
parson, was sent for, and he administered what he regarded as a
passport into heaven. He pronounced a stern reproof, and then impressed
on her the idea of the great sin she had committed, and in the good old
ecclesiastical style admonished her to say her prayers and read her
Bible night and morning, and if she did that there might yet be hope
for pardon. The girl did not think the prescription comforting enough,
so after a few days' misery she asked for Mr Burnside. She had heard
him both pray and preach in days gone by, and the impressions made then
came back to her vividly. On entering the little home he chatted with
her in his accustomed cheery way, never even hinting at her great
sorrow, and then he asked if she would like him to pray with her before
he went. Sh