“Dear child!” he murmured, instantly subdued; “there is a Providence, or such love as yours would never have been given to sustain me in this extremity, and to teach me patience, reliance, and hope in something above the world and its corrupting moth. For your sweet spirit, that holds me up in these dark trials, Heaven knows I am thankful. Let the worst come. All will not be dark. There will be one star in the midnight sky, shining ever through rifted clouds.” In this better state of mind, Mr. Townsend joined his family that evening. Something in the expression of each face he met at home, surprised him. At dinner time, a dead silence, broken occasionally by a word, had pervaded the cheerless circle. If one looked into the eyes of another, it was with a meaningless kind of gaze. But now, there was light in the faces, and something so cheerful in the tones of his wife and daughters, that he looked from the one to the other, involuntarily, with surprise. But he did not ask, though he wondered, what could be the reason. He missed something, too, from the little parlor, though he did not think enough about this to inquire, even of himself, what it was. It was more an impression than a thought. Tea was announced, and they retired to their little dining-room, and gathered around the table. Eunice looked into her father’s face with a sweeter smile than he had seen for a long time, and her voice had a more cheerful expression than it had borne of late. Eveline was more silent; her spirit was oppressed with the good tidings about to be poured in such a grateful stream upon the heart of her father. Mrs. Townsend’s hand trembled as she served the tea, but even in her eyes her husband noticed an unusual light. Wondering, he could not help looking from face to face. Eunice tried to talk at first, in a pleasant, indifferent way. But she soon found that her voice was growing tremulous, and that, if she continued, she would betray the emotion she felt; so she, like Eveline, became silent. Mr. Townsend felt no inclination to talk, and therefore the meal proceeded in silence. At its close they all returned to the parlor. They had been seated there for only a few minutes, when Eunice said, “Will you be able to meet your heavy payment, papa?” Mr. Townsend half started at the question, which considerably disturbed him. But he made an effort to appear calm, and replied, in a low, subdued voice, “No, child, I shall not be able to meet it.” “Perhaps something unexpected will occur,” she said, with a tone and smile that half betrayed her secret. Her father looked into her face with renewed wonder. As his eyes wandered away from the calm, but evidently changing countenance of his daughter, it fell upon the part of the room where her piano had stood, and suddenly he made the discovery that it was gone. “Where is your piano, Eunice?” he asked quickly, and with a strong expression of surprise.