dily, even
when she came to the last verse in that passionate "Prospice:"

"Till, sudden, the worst turns the best to the brave,
The black minute's at end:
And the elements rage, the fiend voices that rave
Shall dwindle, shall blend,
Shall change, shall become first a peace, then a joy,
Then a light--then thy breast,
O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again,
And with God be the rest!"

To that life to come, during all the burden and heat of the day (no, the
afternoon, a time, faded, yet hot and busy still, which is often a very
trying bit of woman's life) she now began yearningly to look. To meet
him again, even in old age, or with death between, was her only desire.
Yet she did her duty still, and enjoyed all she could, knowing that one
by one the years were hurrying onward, and the night coming, "in which no
man can work."

Faithful to his promise, about the middle of July David Dalziel appeared,
in overflowing spirits, having done very well at college. He was such a
boy still, in character and behavior; though--as he carefully informed
the family--now twenty-one and a man, expecting to be treated as such.
He was their landlord too, and drew up the agreement in his own name,
meaning to be a lawyer, and having enough to live on--something better
than bread and salt--"till I can earn a fortune, as I certainly mean to
do some day."

And he looked at Janetta, who looked down on the parlor carpet--as young
people will. Alas! I fear that the eyes of her anxious friend and
governess were not half wide enough open to the fact that these young
folk were no longer boy and girls, and that things might happen--in fact,
were almost certain to happen--which had happened to herself in her
youth--making life not quite easy to her, as it seemed to be to these two
bright girls.

Yet they were so bright, and their relations with David Dalziel were so
frank and free--in fact, the young fellow himself was such a thoroughly
good fellow, so very difficult to shut her door against, even if she had
thought of so doing. But she did not. She let him come and go,
"miserable bachelor" as he proclaimed himself, with all his kith and kin
across the seas, and cast not a thought to the future, or to the sad
necessity which sometimes occurs to parents and guardians--of shutting
the stable door _after_ the steed is stolen.

Especially, as not long after David appea