The village has grown into a town: tall rows of houses stretch along the coast, on one side a square is commenced, and though "the season" is now nearly over, enough of life and bustle remain to denote a flourishing watering-place. There is, however, little change to be seen in the small humble dwelling of Viner, and almost as little alteration in the appearance of its master, who, save a few more gray hairs, a few more furrows on his cheek, looks much the same as when he appeared before us last. We shall, however, scarcely recognise Nelly in the tall, delicate girl, who has almost grown into the young woman; or the convict's son in the powerful youth, who still serves in the shop of his benefactor. How has time passed with them during these long years? They seem to have made little progress in the road to fortune—has the promise of the Lord been to them in vain? No; though life has been a struggle with poverty and care, it has been a struggle cheered by love and hope; the bread earned by virtuous industry has been so sweet, the sleep after labour so calm; unkind words, peevish complaints have in that dwelling been unheard, the peace of God rests like sunshine upon it! I cannot, however, say that Walter's spirit never fretted against poverty, that he never longed to place those whom he loved above all danger of want. He had learned much of religion beneath Viner's roof; he had seen its power to comfort the soul under trials, but he was yet young and impetuous in all his feelings, his faith was weak, his will unsubdued; in life's school he had yet much to learn. And never had his faith been more tried than now, for Nelly, without any apparent complaint, seemed gradually losing all strength and colour, and looked like a flower fading away. She had for some years taken in needlework, to eke out her father's scanty living; she had worked early and late with cheerful industry, and perhaps overtasked her powers. With deep anxiety, Viner and his adopted son watched her pale cheek and drooping form, and the gentle smile which seemed to belong rather to heaven than to earth. Viner consulted a doctor for his daughter, who shook his head, said that she had been overworked and under-fed, and prescribed as necessary for her recovery nourishing food and rest. Oh! How Walter longed for riches then—how Viner felt the cross of poverty lies heaviest when those whom we love are in want! The father laid his trial before his Lord; he earnestly prayed, with a child-like faith, for a sufficiency of daily bread! He rose from his knees submissive and calm; he had placed his sick child at the feet of his Saviour, and while he determined that no lawful means should be left untried to increase her comforts, he rested his hopes upon Him who once said, "According to thy faith be it unto thee."