sister, was the object of my undisguised scorn and aversion. Last midsummer I awoke to a better life; old things began to pass away, and many new things presented themselves to my troubled conscience which before had never even crossed my mind. Then came my long painful illness, and its weary hours of slow recovery; and in that quiet time I learned more than in all the previous years of existence. Insensibly my heart softened towards those with whom I had so long been at enmity. My father I had long forgiven, for his resolution, which I interpreted as severity, had been my earthly salvation; but towards Lady Harriet and Augusta I was altogether changed. We did not come to any verbal understanding, but somehow we became friends, and though from want of congeniality Augusta and I must ever remain to a certain degree reserved towards each other, yet now we continue to adjust matters very amicably, and I am so much happier! To dwell at warfare with those around you is to live in a state of perpetual hostility with all good and lofty feelings. Enmity and scorn debase the heart as much as love and kindness ennoble it."

"Very well," replied Fred, half seriously, half jestingly. "I believe all you say, Miss Finch; but I am such a bad fellow that I fear I am beyond hope of amendment. Grace knows I am a regular-—_—___”

"Grace knows you are a dear, good brother," said his sister, interrupting him; "and now go away, for Margaret is coming, and I want to have her all to myself."

FIRELIGHT SHADOWS.

149

CHAPTER XIII.

""Tis good for thee

To walk by faith and not by sight;
Take it on trust a little while;

Soon shalt thou read the mystery right

In the full sunshine of his smile."

KEBLE.

WHEN Ernest left the dining-room, he wandered, almost unconsciously, into the library. The fire there burned brightly, but the lamps were turned down, and threw a dim light over the centre of the wide apartment; the corners were almost lost in gloom. This shadowy twilight suited better with his mood than the glare and lustre he knew he must encounter if he joined the family. Besides, his thoughts were of a nature to demand solitude, and, almost with a sense of relief, he threw himself into the cushioned arm-chair that stood upon the hearth, and tried to still the throbbings of his weary brow and the excited beatings of his heart. Till then he had hoped, though he would not own it even to himself—he had certainly cherished a vague sort of belief, that, after all, his father, finding that he had made his choice, would at once withdraw his opposition.

Now such vain hopes were finally extinguished;

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A RAY OF SUNSHINE.

nothing remained but to wait patiently-for how long an interval? It was sickening to contemplate the long, unmeasured vista that seemed to stretch away in wearying perspective between him and the happiness he sought. When might he hope to see the desire of his heart fulfilled?

Then he remembered that verse of promise, "Delight thyself also in the Lord and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart." Like a ray of sunshine, it came and lighted up the darkness which had gathered around him; that word could not fail; all in the end would be made clear; and though the end might really be afar off, till then there must be faith, and patience, and diligence in well-doing.

And so for a long hour Ernest Hamilton sat musing in the quiet, twilight room, his heart communing with its God, and garnering up for strength and comfort many a precious promise, that gleamed, like a diamond, all the brighter for the surrounding darkness.

Was he gaining energy for a fresh struggle? Was this brief period of prayerful seclusion the preparation for another and fiercer conflict? It seemed so; for just as he had begun to think of retiring for the night he could not trust himself to meet Margaret before the morroww-Mr. Hamilton's stately tread resounded in the hall, and immediately afterwards he entered the room, and turned up the lamps, so that the sudden burst of light scared away all the "shadows of the fitful firelight," and well nigh overpowered the vision of the solitary being who had so long been shrouded in gloom.

"Ernest!" said Mr. Hamilton, with the air of a man who is about to make an unexpected concession; "I wish to speak further with you on the subject of your engagement to Miss Whittaker."

66

Certainly, sir," replied his son.

"I have been considering your position, and I have come to the resolution to sanction your immediate marriage with the object of your choice."

For one instant Ernest's heart bounded high; what was there he would not do, or suffer, to win his Margaret! The next, the pulses throbbed more evenly. A moment's thought told him, that only by the sacrifice of what he could not and dare not relinquish would this precious consent be yielded ?

"And the conditions, sir ?" inquired Ernest, trying to maintain at least an outward composure.

"The conditions are very simple. Your predilections in favour of a profession altogether different from that I have wisely chosen for you have not escaped my observation. I know that you are foolish enough to dislike the mode of life which you are, and have been for some years pursuing, and I see also that the lapse of time in no way lessens your prejudices. It is quite clear to me, that did any opening present itself, you would escape at once, and make for the goal which is the aim of your highest ambition. If I were to die, for instance, I feel no hesitation in saying, that you would, at any loss and at any inconvenience, immediately relinquish your standing, both that which is, and that which may be, in the mercantile world, and enter, without loss of time, upon the

152

UNEXPECTED MODERATION.

necessary preparation for the ministry. wrong ?"

Am I

"No, sir," returned Ernest, firmly, but respectfully. "If free to follow the dictates of my own heart, I should, as you say, at any cost, relinquish the golden prospects of the mercantile profession, for a calling which seems to me more blessed and glorious than any other occupation on earth!"

"And I also believe," continued Mr. Hamilton, in the same moderate tone, "that if, through time already lost, or any other formidable barrier, you found it difficult to gain access to the ranks of the ministry in the Established Church, like some of your friends, you would not object to preach without the authority of bishop or archbishop."

"Most likely not. I will be candid with you, sir; I always intended, if the time ever came when I should be free, to seek the great distinction and privilege of being numbered among the labourers in my Master's vineyard; and if that time should be in years to come, when ordination in the Establishment would be next to impossible, to yield somewhat of the prejudices of early years, somewhat of the sweet associations which have from my infancy twined themselves with the worship of the sanctuary; and under the banner of Nonconformity, take up my commission to win immortal souls to Christ."

"Thank you for your candour," returned his

father, not ungently though; for there was something in the solemn earnestness of his son that subdued for the moment even his worldly heart. In after years,