hrist died for the
ungodly."

Without strength--the ungodly. That was himself, and for him Christ
died!

The dawn was creeping up the eastern sky when John Gray softly closed
the window and went upstairs, and there was the dawn of hope in his
heart too, for in his life the Sun of Righteousness had risen with
healing in His wings.

It was the next day after this that Reggie Alston received a letter
with the Old Keston post-mark, but after the first glance he laid it
down indifferently. It was not from Gertrude.

After her birthday letter he had expected another pretty soon, because
it had been like her old letters and she had apologised for its
brevity, but none had come.

This was only from his aunt. She might, however, mention Gertrude! He
opened it and glanced at the opening words. When was she to expect him
for his holidays?

He sighed as he thought how long it was till the end of September,
when he was to have his holiday. He had so hoped it would be arranged
during the school vacation, but it had not been.

He turned the page of his aunt's epistle and then his face changed
from listlessness to keen interest.

"I think," wrote his aunt, "that you cannot have heard that little
Maud Brougham has been stolen. I thought Gertrude would of course
write you all about it, but you did not mention it in your last letter
to me, and perhaps, as Gertrude was to blame, she has not liked to
write."

And then his aunt proceeded to tell Reggie all the story, and all the
stories that had grown upon it. Perhaps in her delight in having so
interesting a tale to tell, she forgot what such a story might mean to
Reggie, for he had never made any secret of his whole-hearted devotion
to Gertrude, but certainly she did not spare Gertrude, and to do
Reggie's aunt justice, she fully believed most of the stories of
flirtation and coquetry.

Gertrude had been very little to see her of late, and in the light of
these tales, she naturally put her own interpretation on the neglect.

Reggie slept very little that night, and it was with a very pale face
that he knocked at Mr. Gray's private door in the morning.

"Are you ill?" asked the Manager kindly.

Reggie shook his head with a faint smile.

"Mr. Gray," he said, "you know my holiday is a fortnight in the end of
September. Could you possibly make an exception for me and let me have
four days now, and give up September entirely?"

"My dear boy! it would not be at all good for y