st of their plans, that their poor
child would one day so keenly enjoy them all, and have such sore need
for these or any other simple and innocent enjoyments.

"Papa, how we do miss him!" said Helen one day as she walked with her
father through the Cairnforth woods. "Who would have thought it when he
first came here only a few years ago?"

"Who would indeed?" said the minister, remembering a certain walk he had
taken through these very paths nineteen years before, when he had
wondered why providence had sent the poor babe into the world at all,
and thought how far, far happier it would have been lying dead on its
dead mother's bosom--that beautiful young mother, whose placid face
upon the white satin pillows of her coffin Mr. Cardross yet vividly
recalled; for he saw it often reflected in the living face of the son,
whom, happily, she had died without beholding.

"That was a wise saying of King David's, 'Let me fall into the hands of
the Lord, and not into the hands of men,'" mused Mr. Cardross, who had
just been hearing from Mr. Mentieth a long story of his perplexities
with "those Bruces," and had also had lately a few domestic dissensions
in his own parish, which did quarrel among itself occasionally, and
always brought its quarrels to be settled by the minister. "It is a
strange thing, Helen, my dear, what wonderful peace there often is in
great misfortunes. They are quite different from the petty miseries
which people make for themselves."

"I suppose so. But do you think, papa, that any good will come out of
the London journey?"

"I can not tell; still, it was right to try. You yourself said it was
right to try."

"Yes;" and then, seeing it was done now, the practical, brave Helen
stilled her uncertainties and let the matter rest.

No one was surprised that weeks elapsed before there came any tidings of
the travelers. Then Mr. Menteith wrote, announcing their safe arrival
in London, which diffused great joy throughout the parish, for of course
every body knew whither Lord Cairnforth had gone, and many knew why.
Scarcely a week passed that some of the far-distant tenantry even, who
lived on the other side of the peninsula, did not cross the hills,
walking many miles for no reason but to ask at the Manse what was the
latest news of "our earl."

But after the first letter there came no farther tidings, and indeed
none were expected. Mr. Menteith had probably returned to Edinburg, and
in those days t