THERE* IS NO HURRY. 165

the children God had given to our ont. We
have not been as gay as our neighbours, whose
means were less than ours; we could not be
so, seeing we had to provide for five children;
but our pleasure has been to elevate and render
those children happy and prosperous. Mary
will be so happy, dear child—so happy! Only
think, John, she will be six years the sooner
happy from our care in time!”” This was more
than his niece could bear. The good father
was so full of his:daughter’s happiness, and the
doctor so overwhelmed with self-reproach—
never felt so bitterly as at that moment—that
neither perceived the death-like paleness that
overspread the less fortunate Mary’s face. She
got up to leave the room, staggered, and fell at
her father’s feet.

‘‘ We have murdered her between us,” mut-
tered Dr. Adams, while he raised her up; “ mur-
dered her; but J struck the first blow. God
forgive me! God forgive me!”

That night the brothers spent in deep and
earnest converse. The certainty of his own
prosperity, the self-gratulation that follows a
just and gareful discharge of duties imposed
alike by reason and religion, had not raised
Charles above his brother in his own esteem.
Pained beyond description at the suffering he
had so unconsciously inflicted on_his niece—
horror-struck at the fact, that thousands upon
thousands — lavished, yet nothing done

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