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Next Sunday was one of the gloomiest of April days--a day of thick, dark clouds, and heavy showers None of the Murrays were disposed to attend church in the afternoon, excepting Rosalie: she was bent upon going as usual; so she ordered the carriage, and I ith her: nothing loth, of course, for at church I ht look without fear of scorn or censure upon a for to ht listen without disturbance to a voice ht seem to hold communion with that soul in which I felt so deeply interested, and ihts and holiest aspirations, with no alloy to such felicity except the secret reproaches of my conscience, which would too often whisper that I was deceivingGod with the service of a heart more bent upon the creature than the Creator

Soh; but so--it is not the s are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are honest and of good report, think on these things' We do well to worship God in His works; and I know none of them in which so many of His attributes--so much of His own spirit shines, as in this His faithful servant; whom to know and not to appreciate, were obtuse insensibility in me, who have so little else to occupy my heart

Almost immediately after the conclusion of the service, Miss Murray left the church We had to stand in the porch, for it was raining, and the carriage was not yet co forth so hastily, for neither young Meltham nor Squire Green was there; but I soon found it was to secure an intervieith Mr Weston as he ca saluted us both, he would have passed on, but she detained hireeable weather, and then with asking if he would be so kind as to cohter of the old woirl was ill of a fever, and wished to see him He promised to do so

'And at what time will you be most likely to come, Mr Weston? The old woman will like to knohen to expect you--you know such people think es in order when decent people come to see them than we are apt to suppose'