———

‘We are so many, you see,’ said Gracie; but when
Eva said sweetly, ‘Yes, dear: what a pity!’ Gracie
laughed and answered, ‘Oh, but not one too many.’
Then Eva stared a little. She could not understand
unselfish family affection. She so much preferred
her solitary condition, with a thousand a year, to
Gracie’s, surrounded by clamoreus young sisters,
and dressing on twenty-five pounds a-year.

But still the boys could not see beneath the beau-
tiful, smooth surface ; and even the mother thought
Eya’s faults not so grave as Robbie imagined—
Robbie who was young, and had an unwavering
standard of goodness for grown-up people.

The shock, therefore, to them when they had a
glimpse into Eva’s real nature was very great.

It came in this wise. A certain Mr. Hillier in the
neighbourhood took great notice of pretty Eva; but
as he was a wild young fellow, not much known to
Mr. Farington, her guardian felt it right to put a
stop to the intimacy. Aunt Farington spoke very
gently to Eva, and the girl kissed her aunt and pro-
mised to think of what she said. Next morning,
however, Cousin Eva was missing, and a little in-
quiry established the fact that she had flown with
Mr. Hillier to Paris, where they were shortly
married.

Then Frederick and Gerald were loud in their
condemnation of the ‘ deceitful thing,’ so fair without,
80 hollow within.

Eva, however, was not a whit disturbed by the re-
proving letters of her uncle and aunt. Her fortune
could not be taken from her, and as a married
woman in Paris her life was far gayer than in the
country-house at Maylands. She thought that she
would never miss her cousins, nor need the love she
had so carelessly cast from her. And for a while
this seemed true. George Hillier was really fond of
her, though he squandered her money in all possible
ways, winding up at last by permanently settling
down where he could spend his life at the gambling-
table. Eva did not like that, and for the first time
her fair face was clouded by the fear of a shadow
which she could not get rid of.

Troubles now came thickly: a baby was born; she
was long ill; and then her husband fell ill, lingered
some months and died, all in that far-away corner of
Germany. He had grieved in his dying hours over
his wasted life, and the trouble he had brought on
Eva, advising her to go tc her aunt and uncle, who
were good people, and would take her back, he felt
sure.

Eva did go to England, with her diminished
fortune and her baby, but not to Maylands.

She was too proud, and as yet she could do with-
out them; though George was gone, she had her
baby.

And love for that was already softening Eva’s
selfish heart.

Mrs. Hillier took a house. in London, and resolved
to live for herself and baby.

When one day, however, baby fell ill of croup,
and the doctor despaired of its life, she was nearly
frantic, and in her agony she telegraphed to May-
lands. ‘Oh, do come to me, my baby is dying!’

And next day, when baby was a shade better,

and the doctor came for his second visit that day, |

Mabel Farington crept in behind him, looking so
ready for loving help, with her hat thrown down in
the hall, that Eva at once put the child out of her
tired arms into the fresh, young, strong ones, and
threw herself on the bed in an agony of grief.

Mabel let her cry a little, and then, when nurse
took baby, she coaxed Eva into letting her undress
her and put herto bed, where she soon fell asleep,
quite worn out.

On waking, Mabel had tea and more petting for
her; the poor woeful thing in widow’s weeds had
roused her deepest pity.

Eva was surprised and touched by loving words
and looks. ‘How can you love me?’ she asked. ‘I
behaved so badly to you all; even George said so
before he died.’

‘Never mind that,’ said Mabel; ‘it is forgotten;
you are our own Cousin Eva now, and you must
come back to us; mother wishes you. She would
have come too, after the telegram, but she was ill of :
bronchitis, and Gracie could not leave, so I came.’

‘But I have lost nearly all my money,’ Eva said,
plaintively. ,

Mabel laid her face against hers, and whispered,
‘Darling, you have better than money now; you have
love in your heart, and you will still have baby.’

So, when that little treasure was better, Eva gave
up her house in town and went down to Maylands;
not the fair, sweet girl of two years back, her beauty
faded, her riches vanished, but less selfish, less self-
engrossed.

‘The cousins gathered, however, even more closely
around her, and Lisabee was not now pushed away ;
she might tumble the new crape and the fresh ruffles
without rebuke, for Eva had learned to value and
desire love—the love of her fellow-creatures and the
love of God. The two hang very closely together in
this world of ours. _ H. A.

 

 

UP A MOUNTAIN.

T was ona fiftie July: morning that a
party of four left Glasgow for a trip
to Ben Lomond. We were anxious
to reach the summit of that famous
hill, and we found. that if nothing
untoward happened we could make
a hurried visit to the top, and find

_ our way to our friend’s house on the
other side of the Firth before sun-
set. We drove to the station, and

got booked for Rowardennan, a place at the very foot

of the mountain. —

Rowardennan! It struck us all as a. beautiful
name; but what it means we did not discover. The
train stopped a minute or so at Dumbarton, and from
the window of our carriage we had an excellent view
of the peak we were going to climb. A cloud capped
his summit, but it did not seem inclined to tarry
there. In fact, ere we reached Balloch the cloud
was gone. wus

Balloch is at the southern end of the lake, and

 

‘boasts a small railway-terminus and‘a piér.” Here
we left the train,.and stepped on board the Prince

of Wales, and soon we were churning the waters -
a = PGP? APS0 State Rites