Fleda's next words were scarcely audible, but they contained a reproach to him for speaking so.

"We may as well look at it, dear,” said he, gravely; “it must come to that-sooner or later—but you mustn't distress yourself about it beforehand. Don't cry-don't dear!" said he, tenderly kissing her. “I didn't mean to trouble you so. There there -look up, dear-let's take the good we have and be thankfu for it. God will arrange the rest, in His own good way. Fleda! -I wouldn't have said a word if I had thought it would have worried you so."

He would not indeed. But he had spoken as men so often speak, out of the depths of their own passion or bitterness, forgetting that they are wringing the chords of a delicate harp, and not knowing what mischief they have done till they find the instrument all out of tune,—more often not knowing it ever. It is pity, for how frequently a discord is left that jars all life long; and how much more frequently still the harp, though retaining its sweetness and truth of tone to the end, is gradually unstrung.

Poor Fleda could hardly hold up her head for a long time, and recalling bitterly her unlucky innocent remark which had led to all this trouble, she almost made up her mind, with a certain heroine of Miss Edgeworth's, that It is best never to mention things." Mr. Ringgan, now thoroughly alive to the wounds he had been inflicting, held his little pet in his arms, pillowed her head on his breast, and by every tender and soothing action and word endeavoured to undo what he had done. And after a while the agony was over, the wet eyelashes were lifted up, and the meek sorrowful little face lay quietly upon Mr. Ringgan's breast, gazing out into the fire as gravely as if the panorama of life were there. She little heeded at first her grandfather's cheering talk, she knew it was for a purpose.

"Ain't it most time for you to go to bed?" whispered Mr. Ringgan, when he thought the purpose was effected.

"Shall I tell Cynthy to get you your milk, grandpa ?" said the little girl, rousing herself.

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Yes, dear. Stop,-what if you and me were to have some roast apples?-wouldn't you like it?"

"Well-yes, I should, grandpa," said Fleda," understanding perfectly why he wished it, and wishing it herself for that same reason and no other.

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Cynthy, let's have some of those roast apples," said Mr. Ringgan, "and a couple of bowls of milk here."

'No, I'll get the apples myself, Cynthy," said Fleda.

“And you needn't take any of the cream off, Cynthy," added Mr. Ringgan.

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is the safety and the strength alike of all the earth, and of them that wake or sleep upon it,—

66

"And if He takes care of them all, will He not take care of poor little me?" thought Fleda. Oh, how glad I am I know there is a God!-How glad I am I know He is such a God! and that I can trust in Him; and He will make everything go right. How I forget this sometimes! But Jesus does not forget his children. Oh, I am a happy little girl!-Grandpa's saying what he did don't make it so-perhaps I shall die the first-but I hope not, for what would become of him!-But this and everthing will all be arranged right, and I have nothing to do with it but to obey God and please him, and He will take care of the rest. He has forbidden us to be careful about it too."

With grateful tears of relief Fleda shut the window and began to undress herself, her heart so lightened of its burden, that her thoughts presently took leave to go out again upon pleasure excursions in various directions; and one of the last things in Fleda's mind before sleep surprised her was, what a nice thing it was for any one to bow and smile so as Mr. Carleton did!

FLEDA and her grandfather had but just risen from a tolerably early breakfast the next morning, when the two young sportsmen entered the room.

"Ha!" said Mr. Ringgan, "I declare! you're stirring betimes. Come five or six miles this morning a'ready. Well-that's the stuff to make sportsmen of. Off for the woodcock, hey? And I was to go with you and show you the ground? I declare I don't know how in the world I can do it this morning, I'm so very stiff-ten times as bad as I was yesterday. I had a window open in my room last night, I expect that must have been the cause. I don't see how I could have overlooked it; but I never gave it a thought, till this morning I found myself so lame I could hardly get out of bed. I am very sorry, upon my word!"

"I am very sorry we must lose your company, sir," said the

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