he had heard him speak out of the abundance of his
heart, he had left behind him a faint brown ray of hope in hers. It was
very peculiar of him to break out in prayer after such an abrupt
fashion--in the presence of an older minister than himself--and praying
for him too! But there was such an appearance of reality about the man!
such a simplicity in his look! such a directness in his petitions! such
an active fervor of hope in his tone--without an atom of what she had
heard called _unction_! His thought and speech appeared to arise from no
separated sacred mood that might be assumed and laid aside, but from
present faith and feeling, from the absolute point of life at that
moment being lived by him. It was an immediate appeal to a hearing, and
understanding, and caring God, whose breath was the very air His
creatures breathed, the element of their life; an utter acknowledgment
of His will as the bliss of His sons and daughters! Such was the shining
of the curate's light, and it awoke hope in Dorothy.

In the evening he came again as he had said, and brought Juliet. Each in
the other, Dorothy and she recognized suffering, and in a very few
moments every thing was arranged between them. Juliet was charmed with
the simplicity and intentness of Dorothy; in Juliet's manner and
carriage, Dorothy at once recognized a breeding superior to her own, and
at once laid hold of the excellence by acknowledging it. In a moment she
made Juliet understand how things were, and Juliet saw as quickly that
she must assent to the arrangement proposed. But she had not been with
them two days, when Dorothy found the drawing-room as open to her as
before she came, and far more pleasant.

While the girls were talking below, the two clergymen sat again in the
study.

"I have taken the liberty," said the curate, "of bringing an old book I
should like you to look at, if you don't mind--chiefly for the sake of
some verses that pleased me much when I read them first, and now please
me more when I read them for the tenth time. If you will allow me, I
will read them to you."

Mr. Drake liked good poetry, but did not much relish being called upon
to admire, as he imagined he was now. He assented, of course, graciously
enough, and soon found his mistake.

This is the poem Wingfold read:

CONSIDER THE RAVENS.

Lord, according to Thy words,
I have considered Thy birds;
And I find their life good,
And better the better understood;
Sow