side, the evening star and crescent moon, little more
than a gold line, reflected in one of them. The reed warbler was
beginning to sing, and little landrails were creeping out of the green
sedges, the lilies were closing and letting themselves down. There was
something so delightful, so calm, that Valentine felt his heart elevated
by it. The peace of nature seems a type of the rest of God. It reminds
man of that deep awful leisure in which his Maker dwells, taking thought
for, and having, as we express it, time, to bless and think upon his
creatures.

Valentine watched the gold in the sky, and the primrose-tinted depths
beyond. He was thankful for his delightful home; he felt a good impulse
in him, urging that he must do his duty in this his day and generation;
he seemed to respond to it, hoped the new church would be of use in the
neighbourhood, and felt that, even if it cost him some sacrifice, Laura
must be provided for; either he must settle on her something that she
could live on, or he must promise her a marriage portion.

As for himself, he was a good young fellow, better than many, and when
he went on to think of himself, he saw, in his vision of his own future,
nothing worse than an almost impossibly pretty girl as his bride, one
with whom he was to take a specially long and agreeable wedding tour;
and some time after that he supposed himself to see two or three jolly
little boys rolling about on the grass, the Melcombes of the future, and
with them and their mother he saw himself respected and happy.
Sauntering on still, he came past Becky Maddison's cottage, a pleasant
abode, thatched, whitewashed, and covered with jasmine, but too close to
the mere. "I will talk to that poor old soul again, and see if I can
make anything of her. I am sure Craik is mistaken about her."

"She fails fast," said the daughter, when accosted by Valentine; and she
took him up-stairs to see her mother. He first made himself welcome by
giving her a handsome alms, and then inquired about her health.

The daughter had gone down of her own accord. "I'n bin very bad with my
_sparms_" meaning spasms, she answered in a plaintive voice. Valentine
saw a very great change in her, the last sunset's afterglow fell upon
her face, it was sunk and hollow, yet she spoke in clear tones, full of
complaint, but not feeble. "And I'n almost done wi' this world."

"Mr. Craik comes to see you, I know; he told me to-day that you were
ill."

"Parson