"Where shall I read, Mrs. Barnes?" But then turning to the place indicated, the fourteenth chapter of St. John, she read in a tolerably calm voice, that, and the three succeeding chapters. "It's like heaven, Miss," faltered the poor sufferer. "It's like hearing His voice calling to my poor heart, 'Father, I will that they also whom thou hast given me be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory which thou hast given me.' Think of that, Miss Helen, 'his glory'! When you pray, Mister Frank, ask Him to give me patience to wait his call." After leaving the hut, they were hurrying back to the parsonage, when they met Mr. Knowles. He saluted them with fatherly tenderness, taking Helen's hand and tucking it under his arm. But his face had a worn, anxious expression which did not escape their notice. "Is the sick man very bad?" inquired Helen. "All is well with him, my dear. His victory over death is complete through our Lord Jesus Christ. It was a privilege to see him die. More than ever my prayer is, 'Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his.'" Helen's lips quivered, as she murmured: "It scarcely seemed like dying when papa went home." "You are right, my child, to call it home. It shows me you are looking forward to heaven as your own abode." "No, I am not! I dare not!" passionately exclaimed the young girl, with a burst of tears. "In order to go to heaven, I must forgive, and I cannot do that. You would not love me at all if you knew how bad I have grown." "I shall never cease to love you, my poor child. But who has so deeply offended you that you cannot forgive? It is very unlike you, Helen, to feel so." "Mr. Knowles, if you had been our guardian, all would have been prevented." "Yes, sir," urged Frank, "we are dissatisfied, certainly Helen is, with Mr. Tracy. Would it be possible for us to request his resignation, and for you to assume the charge?" The clergyman gave a searching look in the young man's face, but did not speak for several minutes, walking on slowly, gazing upon the ground. Then he answered: "I must inquire into this. You shall tell me all about it at another time. Now I have a letter to write in answer to one I have just taken from the office. And by the way, Helen, did you ever meet a young girl in the city named Sarah Barrows?" Helen started, the color flashing into her face. "Yes, indeed, sir, I have seen her at Mr. Tracy's. I pity her with all my heart." "She writes me she is in great trouble. But you may read the letter for yourself. It will enlist your sympathies in her behalf." The epistle was as follows: "REVEREND MR. KNOWLES: "KIND PASTOR AND FRIEND: Excuse me for intruding once more on your time. But I am in sore distress, and know not another friend to whom I can appeal. My mother is very feeble; she cannot sit up an hour and the pain in her back is incessant.