ur thoughts, and how little bliss there is
in the world that we have not!

FOOTNOTES:

[F] Since the above was written, there have been serious charges against
Mr. Mercer, but our praise must remain until the case shall be more
fairly made up.

DOCTOR JOHNS.

LIII.

Reuben, meantime, is leading a dashing life in the city. The Brindlock
family have taken him to their arms again as freely and heartily as if
he had never entered the fold over which the good Doctor exercised
pastoral care, and as if he had never strayed from it again.

"I told you 't would be all right, Mabel," said Mr. Brindlock to his
wife; and neither of them ever rallied him upon his bootless experience
in that direction.

But the kindly aunt had not forborne (how could she?) certain pertinent
inquiries in regard to the pretty Miss Maverick, under which Reuben had
shown considerable disposition to flinch; although he vainly fancied
that he stood the interrogation with a high hand. Mrs. Brindlock drew
her own conclusions, but was not greatly disturbed by them. Why should
she be, indeed? Reuben, with his present most promising establishment in
business, and with a face and air that insured him a cordial welcome in
that circle of wealthy acquaintances which Mrs. Brindlock especially
cultivated, was counted a _bon parti_, independent of his position as
presumptive heir to a large share of the Brindlock estate.

Once or twice since his leave of Ashfield he has astonished the good
people there by a dashing visit. Perhaps he has enjoyed (such things are
sometimes enjoyed) setting forth before the quiet parishioners of his
father his new consequence as a man of the world and of large moneyed
prospects. It is even possible that he may have entertained agreeably
the fancy of dazing the eyes of both Rose and Adele with the glitter of
his city distinctions. But their admiration, if they felt any, was not
flatteringly expressed. Adele, indeed, was always graciously kind, and,
seeing his confirmed godlessness, tortured herself secretly with the
thought that, but for her rebuff, he might have made a better fight
against the bedevilments of the world, and lived a truer and purer life.
All that, however, was irrevocably past. As for Rose, if there crept
into her little prayers a touch of sentiment as she pleaded for the
backslidden son of the minister, her prayers were none the worse for it.
Such trace of sentimental color--like the blush upon her fair