Mr. Markland, fervently. His
heart was touched by this real but unobtrusive kindness.

"When do you purpose leaving here?" next inquired Mr. Willet.

"As early as I can make arrangements for removing my family," was
answered.

"Where do you think of going?"

"Into the city."

"Would you not prefer remaining in this pleasant neighbourhood? I do
not see how my mother and sisters are going to give you all up. Mrs.
Markland has already won her way into all their affections, and they
have mourned over your misfortunes as deeply, I believe, as if they
had been our own. Pardon the freedom of speech which is only a warm
heart-utterance, when I say that there is a beauty in the character
of Mrs. Markland that has charmed us all; and we cannot think of
losing her society. Walker told me to-day that his wife was
dissatisfied with a country life, and that he was going to sell his
pleasant cottage. I offered him his price, and the title-deeds will
be executed to-morrow. Will you do me the favour to become my
tenant? The rent is two hundred and fifty dollars."

Mr. Willet spoke very earnestly. It was some moments before there
was any reply. Then Mr. Markland raised his eyes from the floor, and
said, in a low voice, that slightly trembled--

"I saw a house advertised for rent in the city, to-day, which I
thought would suit us. It was small, and the rent three hundred
dollars. On learning the owner's name, I found that he was an old
business friend, with whom I had been quite intimate, and so called
upon him. His reception of me was not over cordial. When I mentioned
my errand, he hesitated in his replies, and finally hinted something
about security for the rent. I left him without a word. To have
replied without an exposure of unmanly weakness would have been
impossible. Keenly, since my misfortunes, have I felt the change in
my relations to the world; but nothing has wounded me so sharply as
this! Mr. Willet, your generous interest in my welfare touches my
heart! Let me talk with my family on the subject. I doubt not that
we will accept your offer thankfully."

CHAPTER XXXVI.

"OUR Father in heaven never leaves us in a pathless desert," said
Mrs. Markland, light breaking through her tear-filled eye. Her
husband had just related the conversation held with Mr. Willet.
"When the sun goes down, stars appear."

"A little while ago, the desert seemed pathless, and no star
glittered in the sky," was answered.

"Yet t