he
cried, "It is enough, Griselda; fear no more, nor be thou longer sad.
I have tried thy faith and thy sweetness, as faith and sweetness have
never before been tried."

His arms were around her, and he kissed her. Griselda looked at him in
wonder. She could not understand.

"Griselda," he said, "thou art my wife. I have no other. This is thy
daughter; her brother is my heir. Thine are they both. Take them
again, and dream not that thou art bereft of thy children."

When Griselda heard all this she fainted away in her great joy. When
she woke again she called her children to her. Timidly they came, but
soon they were caught close to her breast. While she fondled them, and
kissed them, her hot tears of joy fell on their fair faces, and on
their hair. Then she looked at Lord Walter, and said, "Death cannot
harm me now, since thou lovest me still." Then she turned back to the
children.

"Oh tender, oh dear, oh little ones, my children! Your sorrowful
mother thought that cruel dogs or other fearsome beasts had torn you!
but God has kept you safe."

Once again the ladies of the court dressed Griselda in royal robes.
Once again they set a golden crown upon her head. Once again the
wedding-ring slipped into its own place on her finger.

Ere she entered the hall of feasting again, swift messengers had
brought her old father, Janicola, to the castle, never to leave it
again.

Then Griselda sat with her children beside her husband. To her feet
came lords and nobles, peasants and farmers, eager to kiss her hand
and to show the joy they felt in her return.

Never had the walls of the castle reechoed the laughter of so glad a
people. All day long till the stars shone in the cool clear sky the
feasting went on.

For Griselda this was the first of many happy days, happier than she
had known before.

In her home sounded the gay voices of happy children as they played
with, and cared for, the old grandfather whom their mother loved so
dearly. And ever as she moved about the castle she met the eyes of
Lord Walter, that told her again and yet again that he trusted her
utterly.

THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS

By JOHN BUNYAN

ADAPTED BY MARY MACGREGOR

As I slept I dreamed a dream. I dreamed, and behold, I saw a man
clothed with rags, standing in a certain place, with his face away
from his own house, a book in his hand, and a great burden upon his
back. I looked, and saw him open the book, and read therein, and as he