Seldom had the young Christian poured forth such earnest petitions for help as now. Realizing, as she did, the impulsive passion of the young wife, the excuses she would make to her conscience,—that her husband had forsaken her,—the impossibility of earthly effort to restrain her, Marion called upon God to appear for them in their trouble, to touch the heart of the young mother, to put barriers in her path to ruin, to fill her soul with purer joys. Feeling as she did at that moment, perhaps as never before, how sheltered and protected her own life had been, how brightly the future was opening before her own path, her tears gushed forth afresh at the thought of the dangers threatening this beautiful, unprotected child-wife. She prayed too that the absent husband might be brought to a sense of his wrong-doing in forsaking her whom he had sworn to cherish, and return to them with new purposes and new resolves. Nor did she forget the absent father, so long unknown to those connected with him by the closest ties. She prayed that if he were still an inhabitant of earth, God, who knew all things, would lead him back to them, to be their comfort and joy. "O Miss Howard!" cried the afflicted mother, clasping her hands, "what a blessing that we can go to our heavenly Father and tell him all our sorrows! I have an assurance that He will answer; that He will in some way protect my dear, deluded child. It may be by my death. I would willingly give up my life, could I be assured of her safety. It may be that He will touch Arthur's heart, and bring him home to his family. I would submit to any privation, any inconvenience, to have him, her lawful protector, with her." "Or," added Marion, "He may restore to you the husband you have so long mourned. A father would be a great blessing to Juliette now." "A Christian father," murmured the lady, raising her eyes to heaven. "Every day my prayer for him is, Lord, if he is living, lead him to Thyself." After a short silence, the lady added, "I thank God I can say with truth that, since the hour my husband left me, believing I was lost to virtue, I have always maintained the strictest reserve toward all of the opposite sex. I was young, and often called handsome. I believe my husband had been proud of my beauty. I could play the piano and guitar as an accompaniment to my voice; but I only played for my parents and most intimate friends. I have always tried to impress upon Juliette, both by example and precept, that a wife so unfortunately situated must be doubly guarded in her conduct. Character is a plant which must be kept in good soil, free from blights and mildew. It must be watched and tended with care. It is too sacred to be trifled with." Mrs. Douglass wept as she talked, and Marion, desirous of soothing her, said,— "Mrs. Cheriton's love for Eugene is a great preservative." "Yes, that is true," sighing. "Poor boy! He needs a father's restraining hand."