Selina began to undress. She then took her Bible to read as usual before saying her prayers. “Matilda,” she said, after a few minutes, “may I read you this text which I have turned up?” There seemed a silent assent. Selina read, “There hath no temptation taken you, but such as is common to man; but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that you are able, but will with the temptation make a way to escape, that you may be able to bear it.” “Yes,” Selina said, “and it is by praying to God that we shall obtain His assistance,” and she knelt down by the side of her bed. For some time after she had lain down, all was still in the room. Selina had turned her face from her sister, that she might not seem to watch her. After some time Matilda rose; she stood for a moment by the bed, then put something very gently below the pillow; she started when Selina said, “Matilda, I am not asleep;” but she knelt down, said her prayers, and then got into bed. “How very cold you are, dear Matilda,” Selina said; “and how you tremble. O why will you not tell me all?” Matilda pressed her hand. “Good night, dearest; try to sleep.” Matilda seemed more composed; Selina felt comfort, she knew not why. After a considerable time Selina did sleep. She was awakened early by the bright morning sun, but when she opened her eyes she saw Matilda was not there. She called to her, there was no answer. Much alarmed, she sprang out of bed and flew to the window. She saw Matilda fully dressed, standing below a tree speaking to the gardener’s boy; she put a small packet into his hand, and pointed across the lawn in the direction of Mr. Mildmay’s. The packet was larger than a letter, Selina felt sure it was the _etui_. She retreated from the window, and when Matilda returned, took no notice of what she had seen. At the breakfast-table there was no Matilda with her smiling face. All the morning she continued in her room, seated by the window; she had her work in her hand, but was generally looking out along the approach as if she expected some one. About the middle of the day a servant in livery was seen approaching; he held a letter in his hand; as he stopped below her window, she strained her eyes to catch the address, but could not. Poor Matilda! how her heart beat, and how her colour went and came; but no one entered her room--the letter then could not have been for her. She called to Amy, who said she believed the servant had brought a letter for Mrs. Stanley. At that moment Selina came running in. “Matilda,” she said, “Mrs. Mildmay has written to say that Lydia has lost her ruby ring, and she begs it may be carefully looked for; she returned home, she says, with only one glove, and Mrs. Mildmay thinks she may have pulled it off in the glove, and trusts we may be able to find it.”