now; for oh! no one in my home speaks of God and
heaven, or talks softly of Jesus and his love, and I can't be good if
none will stretch out a helping hand and show me the way."

Miss Latimer drew the little quivering figure closer in her embrace as
she answered, "Don't say that, child, don't say that. A human friend
often leads astray--God never. We must not rest our entire confidence
on human guides, or lean altogether on earthly props, but, holding out
our hands to the great Father above, with all the simplicity of little
children, leave ourselves unreservedly in his keeping. Sometimes the
way is dark--so dark, dear" (and the gentle voice faltered for a
moment), "sometimes the path proves rugged and steep; but, little
Winnie,--

'The easy path in the lowlands hath little of grand or new,
But a toilsome ascent leads on to a wide and glorious view;
Peopled and warm is the valley, lonely and chill the height,
But the peak that is nearer the storm cloud is nearer
the stars of light.'

And so, dear, in the time of shadow rest in the hollow of God's hand,
and Christ himself will help you to lead his own perfect life."

The conversation at this point being interrupted by the arrival of
Dick, Miss Latimer found no opportunity of renewing it that evening;
but while Winnie, who had once more dashed the tears from her eyes with
a child's abandonment of grief, was busily engaged with Miss Deborah
and Nellie, she drew the boy aside, and with his aid was able to gather
together the scattered threads of his sister's disconnected story.

Dick could not very well understand how, but there was something about
Aunt Judith which seemed to inspire confidence; and although Miss
Latimer with delicate tact retrained from asking more than was
absolutely necessary, the boy found himself laying bare his heart quite
unintentionally, and ended by confessing his determination to run away
to sea. "I must go," he finished doggedly; "I can't stand this kind of
life any longer, and--I won't."

Miss Latimer looked very grave.

"I have no right to interfere, Dick," she said quietly, "and perhaps I
should scarcely have listened to your story; but from what has been
told me and my own eyes have seen, I thought Winnie's brother one who
would scorn to do a cowardly, dishonourable action."

The boy looked amazed at the strong, emphatic language; while Aunt
Judith, nothing daunted, continued,--

"Yes, it is perfectly true, Dick.