MARTIN found the time spent in church a time of refreshing, and returned to his home in a quiet, tranquil mood, better able to bear and to forbear, with the charity which hopeth and endureth all things. It grieved him, however, to see his wife dressed in as flaunting a style as their narrow means would allow, and his child also decked out in tawdry finery, wearing a faded red sash, and a blue bead necklace round her neck. The dinner was as uncomfortable a meal as the breakfast had been, though Mrs. Laver now put on gaiety of manner, in a spirit of defiance to her husband. She took pleasure in talking to her child of the delights of the coming treat, the band that would play on the deck of the steamer, and all the mirth and fun there would be amongst the company there. Annie was too young to understand or to care much about such things; she was rather frightened at the idea of going amongst strangers, and looking up with her arch innocent eyes into her father's face, she lisped out, "Daddy come too!" Martin shook his head, and replied, as he stroked the soft hair of his child, "No, Annie, father is not going in the steamer, father is stopping behind." "Then Annie 'top too!" cried the little one, thrusting her small hand into that of her parent. "You little goose, do you mean that you will not go with me, and have all the fun?" asked Ann, in an angry tone, which certainly had not the effect of making the child desire to do so. "No, Annie 'top with Daddy!" repeated the little one, beginning to cry at the idea of being taken away. "Oh! I'm sure I don't want you, you'd be only a plague; there's nothing so tiresome as having children dangling about one in a steamer; one's always afraid of the stupid brats falling overboard," cried Ann, with a passionate jerk. "It's time I was off," she said, rising from the table; "your father will have had enough of your company, I guess, before I come back in the evening." But here Mrs. Laver was wrong. Never had the invalid more enjoyed a walk than he did the quiet stroll which he took into Kensington Gardens on that warm afternoon, to give his pale little girl fresh air. How pleasant felt the breeze on his cheek, how bright were the rays of sunshine that streamed here and there through the trees, what a thankful heart was lifted up to God from him who so lately had left a sick-bed, as he sat quietly on the green grass, with his darling playing at his feet! Annie's simple prattle was to her father's ear sweeter than any music, and scarcely disturbed the holy thoughts which were passing through his mind.