Marion read the message with a heightened color. Her heart rebelled against being remembered in this general way; then, reading again, was pleased to see that this was only her aunt's rendering of his message. She fell into a revery concerning the absent one. "He told me I was the only confidant he ever had. In aunty's last letter she narrated exactly what he told her in regard to the triumphant death of a friend. She has no idea that I knew his sister, nor of the painful events of his early life. I will not betray his confidence; and yet it will be a trial to me to keep anything of interest to myself from my dear, kind aunty. I wonder whether he will write me, and when." She was interrupted by James, who brought the morning paper. "Nothing else?" she asked, in a tone of disappointment. "Nothing at all." Looking at her watch, she saw there would not be time to read the news before the carriage was due. She folded it in an abstract manner, walked to the rack to put it in, when she saw the end of a letter protruding from a newspaper inside. As this was not the place for letters, she took it out, and found to her surprise it was unsealed, and—"Yes, it is," she said aloud, "it is postmarked London." Mr. Angus began by asking,— Am I intruding too much on your kindness by sending you a few lines at so early a date? If so, forgive me, and remember that though I am in my native land, standing on the spot where my fathers stood, yet I am a stranger. I feel lonely to-night, and would gladly transport myself back to my adopted country. We had a prosperous voyage,— prosperous so far as it could be to one who was being removed farther and farther from home and home friends. How much would I give to have my little Ethel in my arms, and hear her sweet voice whispering in my ear, "I love you!" You will turn from my page, I fear, disgusted with my home-sickness, and I will tell you of other things. I have been occupied with business in London, but start to-morrow for Doncaster, and from that place shall proceed to Leyden. There is a post-office in Leyden. If I should find there a letter directed to me, it would make me very happy. I write Mr. Asbury by this same steamer, and shall send my messages direct to them. May God bless you, my dear Miss Howard, and reward you for all your kindness to me and mine, is the sincere prayer of your friend, HAROLD ANGUS. There was one person only to whom Marion spoke of the relief which had come to the Grantbury pastor, and this was to Mary Falkner. This young girl, in the midst of her own suffering, never forgot to pray that God would lead him into the light. It was Marion's precious privilege to change these prayers to praise for mercies already bestowed.