ds, and that upward dreamy look that always came
upon her sweet little face when talking about serious things, 'but
she's got through tribulation safely. Mr. Russell told me how she bore
all the pain of her illness for a whole year without a grumble; and
pain and suffering is tribulation, isn't it?'

'What do you know about tribulation?'

How often had Betty been asked that question!

'I know a great deal about it,' she said, looking at the major very
earnestly; 'and though I haven't had it, I'm expecting to. Have you
had it?'

'No, I don't know that I have,' was the amused reply. Then, a shadow
crossing his face, he added: 'Trouble and I are not strangers. I think
I have had my share.'

'And a big trouble is tribulation, isn't it? And it's on the way to
heaven.'

Then the major smiled his sweet smile. 'That's it, Betty, on the way
to heaven. We must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of
God.'

'And have you had a big trouble?' persisted the child.

'Yes, I have,' the major said slowly; 'a very big trouble, Betty. At
one time of my life it would have overwhelmed me, but I've learnt to
take things differently now.'

'You'll hear my friend sing about tribulation, p'raps, if I ask her to;
she will be here directly. Where will you sit? I like to sit on the
chancel step, and Prince sits in my lap.'

'I will find a seat for myself. Perhaps I shall slip away into the
sunshine again.'

And Major St. Clair sauntered round the church, looking at the old
tablets until he heard the door open, and then he slipped into a seat
at the side of the church behind an old stone pillar.

Betty seated herself on the chancel steps after her greetings with her
friend were over. The picture she made as she sat there was long
riveted on Major St. Clair's memory: the golden sunshine streaming in,
the old carved pews in the background, and the dainty little white
figure hugging her spaniel in her arms, would have charmed an artist's
eye. But it was not this sight that made the strong man suddenly turn
pale and clutch the back of the seat in front of him with nervous,
trembling hands; his startled gaze was no longer upon Betty, but upon
the slight, graceful figure that was now taking her seat at the organ.

Betty's clear, childish voice was heard,--

'Please sing about tribulation. I've brought some one with me who
would like to hear it. He's listening at the back of the church.'

Nesta gave a hasty lo