SUSAN GRAY. 127

seized upon me, although I did not know it.
What is our life? It ts even a vapour, that
appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth
away. (James iv. 14.)

But I forget that, perhaps, to-morrow my
soul may be required of me; let me, then,
hasten to finish my story.

I felt increasing pain during that night, and
my few hours of sleep were disturbed by un-
pleasant dreams concerning what I had heard
that day in the hay-field.

The night was rainy. Mrs. Flemming had
told me, the evening before, that, as her hus-
band would have no more work for me till
Monday, she would employ me in weeding a
garden, which was at some distance from the
house, by the water-side.

She had given mea basket, and a small weed-
ing-knife; and having directed me which way
to go to the garden, bade me be there betimes
in the morning.

Now this garden was no other than that which
was formerly tenanted by my dear father: when
he died, Farmer Flemming had taken it, and the
house being a very old one, it had never been
inhabited since my beloved parents had quitted
it. It was now all fallen to ruins, and was only
used as a place for seeds and gardening-tools.

When I reached the garden, the rain had
ceased; but the ground was very damp, and a
very thick fog arose from the river, insomuch
that I could scarcely see the willows which
grow by the water-side. It went to my heart,
to see the cottage, which I so well remembered,