"Helen tells me Mr. Rice cannot accommodate the horse. And therefore, not to be behind your anonymous friend, I invite you to keep him in my barn, at my expense, on condition Christopher does not object to the care. Betsey, will you ask him to come here a moment?" "I'll go," cried Helen, darting from the room. "It is too much, Mrs. Prescott, after all your other kindness," murmured the young man. Christopher, having received his instructions, entered the room, and having listened to the story of the mysterious animal, was asked to take it under his charge. The man made sundry little bows,—after his usual fashion, and took a moment for reflection. Then he said he'd be happy to do any kindness for Miss Helen's friend. And if Mr. Knowles would assure him the horse didn't bite, he'd feed him and groom him with pleasure. CHAPTER XXI. THE FRENCH CHATEAU. THE spring and early summer passed both pleasantly and profitably to Helen. She had begun her work in the parish, had her own district for visiting, and had gathered a class of seventy children, from the outskirts of the town, which she had formed into an infant Sunday School, and taught them by oral instruction. Though under twenty years, her zeal and energy infused new life into the labors of the younger church members. By her own example, she proved what could be done toward inducing those who had long neglected public worship to frequent the house of God. She assisted in the formation of a Young Ladies' Charitable Society, and from her own purse, provided material for clothing, for many of the poor of the town. In this Society it was her endeavor that the law of charity, as described by St. Paul, should govern the members. She proposed playfully, that every one who was guilty of speaking ill of another, should pay a fine into the treasury. In this way the tone of morals was raised, and the popularity of their pastor's wife elect was not decreased. But in the midst of all this prosperity, sad news came to Helen. News of the decease of Miss Constance DeWolf, and afterward of her brother's failing health. It was indeed true, that the loss had deeply affected the young lawyer. His depression of spirits brought on an attack of fever; and then a sudden cold was followed by a severe and obstinate cough, which his physician feared would seriously affect his lungs. Helen, overpowered by the arguments of her pastor, had just consented to be married in September, when a telegram came to her from the physician, that her brother's life was in danger; and that in order to avert the threatened calamity, he must take a sea voyage, and reside for the winter, at least, in a more salubrious climate. Before Helen showed the telegram to any one, she decided, with a burst of tears, that it was her duty to accompany her brother abroad. Many were the headaches and heartaches before she embarked with her charge on board ship, leaving so many dear ones behind her.