rdness over his nature which was years before it quite melted
away. Common observers might not perceive it--Mr. Cardross even did
not; still it was there.

The thing was inevitable. Right or wrong, deservedly or undeservedly,
most of us have at different crises of our lives known this feeling--
the bitter sense of being wronged; of having opened one's heart to the
sunshine, and had it all blighted and blackened with frost; of having
laid one's self down in a passion of devotedness for beloved feet to
walk upon, and been trampled upon, and beaten down to the dust. And as
months slipped by, and there came no Helen, this feeling, even against
his will and his conscience, grew very much upon Lord Cairnforth. In
time it might have changed him to a bitter, suspicious, disappointed
cynic, had there not also come to him, with strong conviction, one truth
--a truth preached on the shores of Galilee eighteen hundred years ago
--the only truth that can save the wronged heart from breaking--
that he who gives away only a cup of cold water shall in no wise lose
his reward. Still, the reward is not temporal, and is rarely rewarded
in kind. He--and He alone--to whom the debt is due, repays it;
not in our, but in his own way. One only consolation remains to the
sufferers from ingratitude, but that one is all-sufficing: "Inasmuch as
ye have done it unto the least of these little ones, ye have done it
unto Me."

All autumn, winter, and during another spring and summer, Helen's
letters--most fond, regular, and (to her father) satisfactory--
contained incessant and eager hopes of return, which were never
fulfilled. And gradually she ceased to give any reason for their
non-fulfillment, simply saying, with a sad brevity of silence, which
one, at least, of her friends knew how to comprehend and appreciate,
that her coming home at present was "impossible."

"It's very true," said the good minister, disappointed as he was: "a man
must cleave to his wife, and a woman to her husband. I suppose the
captain finds himself better in warm countries--he always said so.
My bairn will come back when she can--I know she will. And the boys
are very good--specially Duncan."

For Mr. Cardross had now, he thought, discovered germs of ability in his
youngest boy, and was concentrating all his powers in educating him for
college and the ministry. This, and his growing absorption in his
books, reconciled him more than might have been expected to