of the storm, it became clear,
to her how little she had come to trust to her husband's promises of
reformation. It was to her own efforts she must trust for the support
of herself and her children; her faith in him quite failed after so many
hopes and disappointments; and now what was to become of them all?

She was angry and bitter against herself, poor woman, because her hope
of better days had quite perished. She called herself faithless, and
said to herself that she did not deserve that it should go well with her
husband, since she had ceased to believe in him and trust him; but, sick
in body and sick at heart, she had no power, for the time at least, to
rally. She prayed in her misery often and long, but it was to a God who
seemed far away--a God who had apparently hidden His face from her.

The third day was drawing to a close. Sophy gathered the children to
their daily reading near their mother's bed, and, with great pains and
patience, found and kept the place for them. John was ten, and a good
reader--quite equal to Sophy herself, he thought; but Ned and little
Will were only just beginning to be able to read with the rest, and
their sister took all the pains in the world to improve them and to make
them really care for the reading; and almost always, this hour was a
very pleasant time. The lesson to-day was the fifth of Mark.

"Now, boys, you must attend carefully," said Sophy, when they were
seated; "because there are many wonderful things in the chapter. I read
it last night by the firelight after you were all in bed; and I want
each of you to tell me which part you think most wonderful. You must
begin, Will, and then Ned; and then I'll read your verses over after
you, so that you may understand them."

For the two little lads could make but little of anything they read
themselves as yet, though they listened with pleasure to the reading of
their sister. And, besides, the double reading would help to pass the
time and make her brothers contented in the house.

Mrs Morely was beguiled from the indulgence of her own sad thoughts,
first as she watched the little girl's grave, motherly ways with her
brothers, and then by listening to the words they were reading. First,
there was the story of the man who had his dwelling in the tombs. They
read on slowly and gravely, Sophy reading each verse again, except when
it was John's turn, till they came to the eighth, "For He said unto him,
Come out of the