you. You were envious about Emily's
doll, and about poor Miss Augusta Noble's fine house and clothes and
servants, and about the muslin and ribbon I gave to Emily one day, and
the strawberry your papa gave to Henry; and I have often thought you
showed envy on other occasions."

Lucy looked grave when her mother spoke, and the tears came into her
eyes.

"Mamma," she said, "I am a naughty girl; my heart is full of envy at
times; but I pray that God would take this sin out of my heart; and I
hate myself for it--you don't know how much, mamma."

"My dear child," said Mrs. Fairchild, kissing Lucy, "if you really
grieve for your sins, and call in faith upon the Lord Jesus Christ, you
will surely in God's good time be set free from them. And now, my
dear," added Mrs. Fairchild, "you know what is meant by the sin which
doth so easily beset us; and you understand that every person has some
one besetting sin."

"Yes, mamma," said Lucy, "and you have told me what my own besetting
sin is, and I feel that you have found out the right one. But mamma,
you said that many people do not know their own besetting sins."

"Yes, my dear," answered Mrs. Fairchild. "Careless people do not know
their hearts, and have no idea of their besetting sins; indeed, they
would laugh if you were to speak of such things before them."

Whilst Mrs. Fairchild was speaking these last words, they heard the
dinner-bell ring; so they broke off their talk and went downstairs.
Whilst Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild and all the family were sitting at
dinner, they saw through the window a man on horseback, carrying a
large basket, ride up to the door. Mrs. Fairchild sent John out to see
who this person was; and John presently returned with a letter, and a
haunch of venison packed in a basket.

"Sir," said John, "the man says that he is one of Mr. Crosbie of
London's servants; and that he has brought you a letter with his
master's compliments, and also a haunch of venison."

"Mr. Crosbie's servant!" said Mr. Fairchild, taking the letter and
reading it aloud as follows:

"DEAR MR. FAIRCHILD,

"I and my wife, and my sister Miss Crosbie, and my daughter Betsy,
have been taking a journey for our health this summer. We left
London three months ago, and have been down as far as Yorkshire.
We are now returning home, and have turned a little out of our way
to see you, as it is as much as twelve years since we met; so you
may look for u