T'URNS OF FORTUNE. » 4

a thing of life, then brawling around sundry
large stones that impeded its progress, again
subsiding into silence, and flowing onward to
where a little foot-bridge, over which they had
to pass, arched its course ; beyond this was the
church, and there Mabel knew they were to
await the coach which was to convey them to a
village many miles from their old homes, and
where Sarah Bond had accidentally heard there
was a chance of establishing a little school.
Mabel paused for a moment to look at the ve-
nerable church standing by the highway, the
clergyman’s house crouching in the grove be-
hind. The hooting and wheeling of. the old
owls in the ivied tower was a link of life. Sa-
rah Bond passed the turn-stile that led into the
church-yard, followed by Mabel, who shudder-
ed when she found herself surrounded by damp
grass-green graves, and beneath the shadows
of old yew-trees.

She knew not where her aunt was going, but
followed her silently. Sarah Bond led the way
to a lowly grave, marked by a simple head-
stone. She knelt down by its side, and while
her bosom throbbed, she prayed earnestly,
deeply, within her very soul—she prayed, now
a faded, aged woman—she prayed above the
ashes, the crumbling bones of him she had loved
with a love that never changes—that is green
when the head is gray—that Mabel might never
suffer as she had suffered. Relieved by these