etter man, you shall not want for help."

"Thank you kindly, Mr. Raeburn, but I doubt it's too late. 'It's
mighty hard to tache ould dogs new tricks,' but if you 'll spake a good
word for me to the doctor about the brandy, I'll try."

At bedtime Molly kissed her father and mother Morton good night with
tender and tearful emotion, but without a word,--her heart was too
full. On reaching her pleasant chamber, where her trunk stood ready
packed for the journey, she sank on her knees beside her dear little
bed, and prayed for the parents she was about to leave, and for those
she was about to seek; for her generous friends, the Raeburns, and for
poor, sinful Patrick Magee, who needed somebody's prayers so much.
When she laid her head on her pillow, she could not sleep, but lay in a
tremulous, excited state, half joy, half sorrow. Then Mrs. Morton came
in to kiss her once more, and to tuck her in, as she used to do when
Molly first came to her a sad and feeble child. As she bent to kiss
her she fell on her neck and wept, saying, "My child, my child, how can
I give you up?"

"O mother, dear!" replied Molly, embracing her, "you must never give me
up. I must still be your child as well as _hers_."

"Do you want _very much_ to go to her, darling?"

"Yes, though you have been so good, so _good_, and I love you very
dearly, I have always had a sort of blind yearning in my heart for her.
It seems to me that the cry of my infancy, 'Mamma!' 'Papa!' which the
cruel blows of Mrs. Magee hushed, has always been whispering in my
soul, and _must_ be answered. But if I love them, and they love me
ever so much, I shall love you and dear father Morton all my life and
into God's forever."

"It is well, dear child, and the Lord's will be done. Good night!"

Molly was wakened early in the morning by the carol of an oriole, but
she could make nothing of his song but "Good by, good by, good by!" and
the clambering roses by her window seemed sending in sweet farewell
sighs. Soon after breakfast, Mr. Raeburn drove up in his carriage, and
so Molly set out to seek her fortune and her parents.

CHAPTER IV.

It was the afternoon of a cool, showery summer day, when Mr. Raeburn
and Mary drove through a handsome stone gateway, and up an avenue of
maples, to the fine old-fashioned mansion of Mr. Phillips. As they
stood on the steps, Mr. Raeburn noticed that Mary had been much
agitated by recognizing scenes once familiar to her baby e