The sermon which followed was from the text: “Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? And one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.... Fear not, therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows.” The sermon that followed was almost worthy of the text, not quite, for no man’s nor angel’s words can add to the Word of the Lord; but it was faithfully, lovingly and practically applied, and it did good service. At the end of the worship Stuart, as well as Palma, came out into the sunlight refreshed and comforted. That morning Stuart, in his dark mood, had shrunk from the exertion of going to church. What would be the use? he had thought in his secret heart; and he had tried to excuse himself to Palma, but she, from a feeling of duty, had persuaded him to go. Now as they walked uptown through the sunny air he said: “I am very glad we went to church to-day, dear.” “So am I. We got our daily bread, our heavenly manna there, did we not?” “Yes.” They reached home and found their pleasant little parlor aglow with the bright fire in the grate, and inviting with the neatly spread table and the simple midday meal of the Sabbath. Mrs. Pole had also been to church at a much nearer point, and had got home before them in good time to lay the cloth. Dinner over, they spent the afternoon in reading. They had an early tea, and then went out to church for the evening service, walking there and back again. They reached home after ten o’clock, for the way was long. They were revived in spirit and wholesomely fatigued in body, so that they soon retired to rest and slept well. Even Stuart slept, though he believed that this night ended their last day in their pretty home, and that the next morning would send them adrift, bereft of all their effects, except the clothes they wore, and Heaven only knew whither! But—they would be in their Father’s world! No one could turn them out of that. So they slept in peace. I have been particular in describing these last two days of Stuart’s and Palma’s experience, for they were ever after memorable in their lives. On Monday morning they arose early, as usual. It had been Stuart’s daily custom to go out after breakfast in search of employment. He had continued this under all discouragements. Yet this morning he stayed at home to see the landlord’s collector, who always arrived the day after the bill had come by mail. As the bill had arrived on Saturday, and the collector could not come on Sunday, he would certainly put in an appearance on Monday, and Palma must not be left alone to receive him—under the circumstances. Palma took her knitting—a pair of mittens for Mrs. Pole—and sat down to work near the window, from which she could look below upon the housetops and above to the glorious December sky. Stuart took a book and threw himself into a rocking-chair by the table, but he did not read. He was waiting—for what? He did not know.