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tated a letter to her godson, asking for his advice and assistance. A portion of the reply, in which the latter recommended Mrs. Langton to her notice, ran as follows:

"I have known her for four years, and believe her temper to be perfect, and her disposition and principles excellent. She has known much, both of sorrow and temptation, nor do I aver that her life has been altogether blameless; but during the years that I have known her, she has never failed in one duty; but has been an example for good to all around her.'

Helen was very urgent with the Archdeacon to reveal the whole of her story to Miss Lennard.

• I cannot endure,' she said, “to be a second time an impostor. Is it right to give what may be called a false character? I have beard you say how dishonourable is such a deed in the case of a servant; why is it not equally so in mine?' 'Because,' replied the Archdeacon, 'I con


sider that there comes a time (after deep repentance and expiation) when a fault may be pardoned, and its punishment may cease. And does that punishment cease if we blazon to the world that woman's error, on which of all others, society has the least mercy? Were I to be asked the character of a man who, for confirmed habits of drunkenness, idleness, or theft, had been discharged from my service, I should certainly deem it a grave act of dishonour, were I to conceal his faults from the person who made the inquiry concerning him. But. had a man of whom I was called upon to give an opinion failed once, and that years before, and had his afterconduct proved that his repentance was sincere, then I should not feel justified in depriving him of the means of earning an honest livelihood, which Providence had placed within his reach. No-certainly I should not betray him.'

Helen was but half convinced by these arguments. “I wish,' she said, 'that Miss

Lennard could be made aware of all that you know against me. I should be much happiermuch more satisfied that I was doing right.'

Make the old lady your friend,' said the Archdeacon, cheeringly, let her judge for herself, let her (as Esther says) learn to love you; and then, all things seeming fitting, you can make her your confidante. If I mistake not, my old friend (little as she knows of the world and its ways, and exempt as she has been from the trials and temptations of life) will say with me that the time for pardon has arrived, and that while she pities your sorrows, she will, by kindness and affection, help you to forget the past.'

God grant it!' ejaculated Helen, with a deep sigh, for as the time drew near when she was to say “farewell to the kind friends who had sheltered her under their roof, and to the children whose young affection had twined itself round her heartstrings, her courage seemed to ebb, and a feeling of despondency stole over her usually elastic spirit. "God grant it! but even in the event of harm arriving from this concealment, it is not to you-to you who have been so far kinder to me than I deserve, that I will turn in my desolation; no-to my own heart only will I whisper that I was wrong-wrong under any circumstances, and under any guidance, to cross a threshold with a falsehood in my right hand!

On my head be it,' was the Archdeacon's reply, while his wife, as she bade adieu to her departing friend, reminded her (with tears in her soft eyes) that there would ever be a home for her in the house she was leaving, and in the hearts of all within it.

The little children clung round her with tearful eyes, and when the last embrace had been given, and Helen looked back at the kind friends who were grouped at the door to witness her departure, she deeply mourned the necessity that compelled her to seek another home among those who knew her not. If only she had possessed a better brother! one at least who would have allowed her the privilege of retaining her own humble fortune, she had not needed to trust herself to the small mercies of a merciless world. But regrets for the past were vain, and only served to increase her uneasiness for the future; so with a vigorous touch she swept them from her mind, while she pursued her lonely way to the next haltingplace on her life's journey.

The traveller was received kindly at · Darrow House,' which was the name of a frightful old pile of buildings on the chilly eastern coast. It was a place that by no possibility could be considered interesting to any but its owners; and Helen shuddered when she first caught sight of the tall, dark pine-trees, swayed to and fro by the strong winds that did battle against that inhospitable shore. Their bowed heads and tossing arms gave a wild welcome to the stranger, who, but that her nerves were young and braced, would have shrunk from the ominous greet

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