"He's wandered away from Christ's fold, but the Good Shepherd—Him your little maid talks about—He won't forget him; and one day I hope your husband will hear His voice," Mrs. Mugford said solemnly. "You must pray for him." "Oh, I do, I do! But I can't help complaining, and I've no patience, and life does seem so hard!" Mrs. Mugford nodded sympathetically, and then the neighbours sat down side by side, and indulged in a long, confidential chat; and by-and-bye Mrs. Lethbridge dried her eyes, and was comforted. When Mrs. Mugford said good-night, it was after promising to "run in again one evening soon," and she went home with the knowledge that she had been allowed to help and cheer one heavy heart. CHAPTER VI. THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL TREAT. THERE was great excitement in the little village of Sunleigh one day towards the end of June, and many an anxious glance was cast at the sky to see if the weather was likely to remain fair. But not one fleck of cloud was visible in the broad expanse of blue overhead, and the good folks of Sunleigh had every reason to be confident that it would be fine for the Sunday-school treat. Punctually at two o'clock, the children assembled at the school-house, and marched to the Vicarage grounds, where they spent the afternoon and evening in playing games and running races, with an interval for the all-important tea. Besides the children, many of their parents were present, not to speak of the teachers, who worked hard for the enjoyment of their little pupils. The vicar, of course, was at the head of everything. He was a grey-haired, elderly man, with a kind, sympathetic heart and manner, and a face that won one's confidence and trust. He had had much care and sorrow, for he had been many years a widower, and out of four children only Marian was left, the rest having died in early youth. Yet the vicar was always bright and cheerful, and never more so than when in the presence of young folks. It was a perfect day, every one agreed, and not too hot; for though the sun shone in a cloudless sky, there was a fresh, invigorating breeze, and it was delightfully cool under the tall elm trees that flanked the Vicarage lawn. It was in that sheltered spot that the mothers congregated, and discussed the behaviour of their children. "What a pretty little maid yours is," said one kindly soul to Mrs. Lethbridge, who was present with the baby in her arms. "I never did see such blue eyes before, and such golden curls!" Mrs. Lethbridge smiled, and turned a pleased look on the speaker, as she answered, "Molly's a good child, and that's better than her pretty looks, I take it. She's so sweet-tempered, too, and always as happy as the day is long." "And your boys are fine little chaps. How does the elder take to work, Mrs. Lethbridge?" "Oh, very well indeed; and Mrs. Mugford says he's trustworthy, and she's quite satisfied with him."