A Brother's Graze. 87

so well as dear old St. Giles' !" There was
a pause. The two children were thinking of
their walk that morning; how they went
round the longest way to the church-door,
on purpose to have another look at their
brother's grave. They often went there; the
first Sunday Gilbert came home that long
round was invariably taken, and they both
had a lurking desire, whenever they walked
into the town, to go the road through the
churchyard in preference to the other and
shorter way. It would be long ere they
stood there again The spot rose before their
eyes-the little, low grave, close under the east
window, the stone with its touching inscrip-
tion. They could read the very words, as
it were, in their minds' eye: "In memory
of GEORGE," then the particulars of his age
and death, followed by the single line which
recorded their infant sister; and it ended
with, "They shall be mine, saith the Lord
of Hosts, in that day when I make up my
jewels." Jewels to deck the Saviour's brow
their loved ones should be! What honour,
what bliss, for mortals to be counted worthy
to shine upon His crown I
 "I liked the sermon so much to-day, Grace.
What a good man Mr. Fellows is! Didn't