There was a tone of deep despondency in the voice which spoke these words--for recently the change in their child had become marked. Unusual absences from her home--a sadness foreign to her natural cheerfulness of manner--a sudden and frequent outbreaking of tenderness toward her mother and himself--tears often springing overflowingly to her eyes--all these circumstances could do no more than excite uneasiness and anxiety in the minds of her parents. A low murmuring sound was presently heard at the little wicket-gate outside, and immediately after the door was softly unlatched, and Grace Bartlett glided into the room. The anxious glances of the pastor and his wife at once discovered by the light of the fire, which blazed brightly upon the hearth-stone, that the young girl’s eyes were dimmed with a slight expression of sorrow, and that her lovely cheek was a shade paler than its wont. She moved gently forward, knelt down at her father’s side, and kissed his brow. “Grace,” said the old man, sadly, as he laid his hand among her beautiful tresses, “we have awaited your return, my child; it is past our customary hour for prayer. Do you tire of the happiness of home, that you seek for enjoyment elsewhere?” he added, as he gazed down on the face of the lovely being so emphatically the light of his home. The girl’s countenance betrayed a confused consciousness as her beautiful “forget-me-not” eyes encountered those of her parent; but she made no reply, and a moment after arose from her knees. Untying her bonnet and hanging it against the wall, while her golden hair, disobedient to previous arrangement in modest bands by its owner, fell luxuriantly around her neck, she took a seat to signify that she was now prepared to join her parents in the devotions of the evening. At that moment the little low-roofed apartment, so unostentatious in its old-fashioned furniture, so exact in its modest neatness--its bare walls unornamented with ought save a piece of faded tapestry, or an occasional nail whereon was hung sundry bunches of dried herbs and bags of rose-leaves--this, with the girl in her youthful simplicity and grace, kneeling by the side of her venerable parents, the eyes of all closed, and their hands clasped in devotion, while the old man’s lips were parted in the act of prayer, formed altogether as complete a picture as possible of colonial economy and piety.