Giles smiled good-humouredly as he turned the crown-piece round and round. "Four shillings and five make nine," he muttered, "that's an odd number, and would buy an awkward lot of stamps to send in a letter. I'll do the handsome thing myself—and follow this new fashion set in the nursery; 'tis but one shilling more to give—I'll turn all the silver into one little bit of gold, and send it safely in a registered letter to Exeter Hall. We'll have a grand dinner-party amongst us, and invite forty young folk at once." It was keen delight to Susan to feel that her little offering of one piece of silver had been—as it were—changed into gold; that where she had meant to give food to four, she had been the means of spreading the table for forty! But far more important than the extension of this little work of charity in the dwelling of Mrs. Fairley, was the good which Susan's influence was silently working around her in the hearts of those who could watch the "tiny night-light" of her example. The little Fairleys were learning lessons of piety and love which were likely to make them, when they should grow up, holy and happy Christians, influencing in their turn, perhaps, hundreds of their fellow creatures. Let no servant of God, in however lowly a state, think that "one talent" may safely be buried, or the feeblest light safely be hidden. Especially let those who live amongst children remember how great the power of their own influence may be for evil or good. Those who have showered blessings on thousands may have received in the nursery their first impressions of religion. A servant girl of whom the world never has heard, may be found on that day when all secrets are known, to have helped to form the character of a Wilberforce or a Howard. To some Christians whose lives have been very obscure, may yet be fulfilled that glorious promise, "they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever." * * Daniel xii. 3. A THANKFUL GUEST OR, A CHRISTIAN IN COMMUNION. CHAPTER I. Back Again. "THAT's he—that's he—hurrah! Look, wife, look! He's a-sitting on the box of the coach that we may see him the better! Hurrah!" And with a cheer which came from the heart, Michael Garth lifted the straw hat from his wrinkled brow and grey hair, as a carriage drove rapidly along the country road, by the side of which stood his neat little cottage. "Bless him! Bless him!" faltered old Martha, grasping eagerly her husband's arm with her trembling fingers, and straining her dim eyes to see the vicar's sailor son returning after ten years' absence from England. "He sees us—he minds us!" said Michael. "He's a-lifting up his cap—cheer, Mat, cheer—are ye dumb, lad!" cried Martha to her grandson, a red-haired lad of sixteen, who had come running from the plough to see the officer drive past.