"Think of it, my dear. We shall see Abraham, the father of the faithful, Isaac, Jacob, and all the patriarchs, Moses, the great lawgiver, Joshua, the captain of Israel's hosts, Samuel, the prophet, David, the sweet Psalmist, Solomon, the wise king, Isaiah, Jeremiah, and all the host of worthies who followed. We may hope to converse with Matthew, the Publican, with Mark, the Evangelist, Luke, the physician, and John, the beloved disciple; we may hear from Paul the account of his wonderful conversion, of his stripes and suffering, cheerfully endured for the sake of his divine Master; and more than all, we may see our Saviour; we may examine the print of the nails. We may look on his matchless form, may hear his voice full of love and tenderness. We may do all this, while exempt from the infirmities which subject us in this world to sin and sorrow. Can we not imagine what the bliss of heaven will be?" "Thank you," murmured the young girl, "I shall always remember what you have told me." Mr. Knowles then explained that an aged member of the church had died and was to be buried this day. "I came," he said, "by my son's request, to aid him in the funeral services; and I then expected to remain over the Sabbath while Frederic who would be near to Maytown, preached for me. Now as Frederic will naturally desire to be here, I shall probably return to-morrow." "I can't spare you yet, I have so much to tell you, and—if I consent to be what Frederic wishes, I must have you here." He patted her glowing cheek, with a smile as free from care as if no thought of death had entered his mind. At this moment Betsey opened the door. "Will you come to breakfast, Miss?" she asked, trying to speak in a formal tone, but failing most lamentably. Her eyes were so full of mirth and her whole manner so different from the usually grave Betsey, that Helen stared at her in surprise. But she turned to the aged man and gave him her youthful arm for a support. She had, however scarcely left the hall before she heard a familiar voice talking to her aunt in hurried, excited tones: "Where is she? Has she left her room?" Leaving her companion in the hall, Helen bounded up the stairs, and in a moment more was in the young clergyman's arms. For one instant he gazed into her blushing face, and then whispered: "Thank God, I have you once more." "Not a rich heiress, Frederic, but a poor ignorant girl, who will need constant care and teaching to make her good for anything." "We wont quarrel the first moment of meeting," he said, "but I give you warning that I will not hear my wife slandered in that way; and by the by, Helen, it must be soon. "That's a good child," he went on, taking her silence for consent. "With the help of God, I'll make you so happy you shall never regret it." "I have already made the arrangements with your father," she answered, with one of her roguish glances. "He is to perform the ceremony."