He had, in the meantime, received a letter from his wife, and each of his children, breathing out love to him. Each one expressing the deepest anxiety as to the nature and result of his illness, and praying that he would soon be back with those who loved him so truly. "Ashton," said Mr. Rumsey, his host, one morning, "this is the thing which will just suit you, if you can secure it," and he handed a copy of the _Daily Globe_ to Ashton, at the same time pointing to an advertisement which read as follows: "A good managing clerk wanted for a dry goods and clothing establishment in the town of Bayton. He must be a man of matured experience. Apply Box 152, Post Office." "That will just suit me," said Ashton. "What is the distance to Bayton?" "About ninety miles. I suppose you think of applying personally? I should advise you by all means to do so." Ashton immediately set about making the necessary preparation, and next morning started for the above-mentioned town, upon which journey we will leave him for the present. CHAPTER VII. MR. AND MRS. GURNEY. Mr. and Mrs. Gurney sat in their cosy sitting-room, which was plainly but tastefully furnished; but though quiet, one could not fail to realize that it was the home of people of more than ordinary intelligence and culture. They both had passed life's meridian, and were, at the time we introduce them to our readers, verging upon three score years. They were dressed in deep mourning, and the look of subdued sadness which overcast their thoughtful faces told they had lately "passed under the rod." But suffering had not made them hard and cynical, but richer in grace and goodness, riper, sweeter, mellower. Each had learned to say with Asaph, "My flesh and my heart faileth, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion for ever." They certainly had reason to mourn. God had blessed them with four children; children of whom they had just cause to be proud, for they early displayed talents which marked them as above mediocrity, but one after another, just after they had reached manhood and womanhood, they had fallen victims to that insidious disease, consumption, and the aged couple were left in their declining years, sad and lonely, like two aged trunks stript of their foliage, bare and alone. Mr. Gurney had been for years engaged in the dry goods and clothing trade, and had intended his last surviving son should take the business, but Providence had ordered otherwise, taking him away just at the time when the father was about to carry out his long cherished scheme. After they had laid in the grave the body of their beloved, for a while a cloud of intense sorrow hung over their home, though they had faith to believe it was lined with the silver of their Father's love.