114 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS.

Christian woman often moved her to secret
earnest prayer, that God, of His mercy, would
infuse an humbler and holier train of thought
and feeling into Helen’s mind; and, above all,
she prayed that it might not come too late.

“ You do not think with Mrs. Ivers in all
things, I perceive,” said the gentleman I have
twice alluded to.

“Tam hardly, from my situation,” replied
Rose, “ privileged to think her thoughts, though
perhaps I may think of them.”

“© A nice distinction,” he answered.

“Our lots in life are differently cast. Ina
week I return to Abbeyweld; I only came to
be her nurse in illness, and was induced to re-
main a little longer because I was useful to
her. They will go to the Continent now, and
I shall rejurn to my native village.”

“But,” said the gentleman, in a tone of the
deepest interest, ‘“ shall you really return with-
out regret ?”’

‘¢ Without regret?’ Oh yes!”

_ * Regret nothing?”

“ Nothing.”

“ Suppose,” he continued, in a suppressed
tone of deep emotion—* suppose that a man,
young, rich, and perfectly aware of the value
of your pure and unsullied nature, was to lay
his hand and heart”

“TI pray, I entreat you, say not another
word,” interrupted Rose, breathlessly. “If