stence failing her!"

"I never heard my mother complain," replied Jennie, "There was one time
when our miserable room was quite cheerless and cold, and we knew not
where to look for fuel or food, then my poor father seemed almost
frantic with grief for my mother and myself; but I well remember her
holy smile, as she calmly said, 'My husband, trust in the Lord, and
verily thou shalt be fed.' I never met with a firmer confidence in the
love and over-ruling providence of God than my mother possessed,"
continued Jennie. "Her example is ever before me, and yet how difficult
to attain to!"

"Were you often in so desperate a condition, my child?" asked Mr.
Halberg; "and did your mother's patience never fail her, so that she
would speak accusingly of her relatives?"

"There was seldom a day," replied Jennie, "after my father's illness,
that we knew how to provide the necessaries of life; and the only time I
ever surprised my mother in an outburst of sorrow was when I took my
broom for the first time, and went out to sweep the crossings. That day
she called me to her, and tying back my curls, so that none of them
could be seen beneath my hood, she clasped me convulsively to her, and
wept until I ran away to escape the agony."

"Were you not afraid in the crowded streets?" inquired the uncle, as
Jennie paused.

"Oh, yes! very often, dear uncle--that is, of the ugly wheels; but there
seemed a guardian presence around me and few ever spoke rudely to me;
and I was never injured, excepting on that blessed night when God's time
had come to help us through my physical hurt. Don't let us think any
more about it," continued she, looking up at her uncle, and perceiving
how deeply he was moved; "it was all right, and if it had not happened
we might have been wicked and thoughtless instead of feeling that our
heavenly Father's will is always better than our own."

Mr. Halberg arose and walked around on the other side of the church, and
on his return to his niece he said, in a calm yet earnest tone, "My
child, you must pray for your uncle--his life will be weary indeed
without you!" and pressing her fondly to him as they stood by the old
man's grave, he too murmured "Dear little Jennie!" and they left the
spot to the breath of the winds and the twittering of the birds that
hopped about upon the willow branches.

CHAPTER XXVII.

Meantime Ellen lay upon her couch, tossed with many conflicting
emotions. Her better nature repro