He need not have beat about the subject so long, as fearing difficulty with Miss Churchill. Sophie was too natural, too simple, frank, and entirely unworldly to feel any doubts, fears, or scruples upon the subject. Her pastor proposed the plan—and that fact carried with it a weight of authority that would have constrained her acceptance of a much less agreeable proposition—for in her heart she liked this project—the only drawback being her dislike to leave as her home, the Hall of her own and her fathers’ nativity. She expressed her glad acquiescence in the plan—and Emily sealed the contract with a kiss on her brow. “Now, Emily, my darling, we will hurry home—the sooner that we may begin to fit up the rooms for Miss Churchill. This is Monday—by Saturday, Miss Churchill, we shall be ready for you—and on Saturday morning Emily shall drive over and fetch you and Hagar, so that we may all go to church together on Sunday. As for this old hall, it can be shut up for the present and left in charge of old Cumbo, who, Guinea nigger like, is never half so happy as when left entirely alone. You will like our little lad, as well as Emily loves your little girl, Miss Churchill—you could not help it if you were to try, my dear—and you and Emily and the children will be very happy—if I can make you so—for I love to see happy faces about me.” The old man smiled gravely and sweetly as he said this, and arose to take leave. “Mind, dear Sophie,” said Emily, “_we_ shall be ready—do _you_ be ready also—for I will be sure to be at your door early on Saturday morning.” “If it be the will of God,” said the pastor. “Oh! certainly, I always _mean that_,” said Emily. “Always _say_ it then, my dear—somehow or other my heart sank within me as I heard you promise so confidently to be here on Saturday morning. Alas! who can tell? Some of us may be in our graves Saturday morning!” A shadow had fallen on his brow. The two young women felt serious. He recovered himself with an effort, saying, “I must not darken young hearts with my gloom! Come! smile, Emily. Bid your friend good-by—and know that every event is ordered by infinite wisdom and love.” And they took leave and rode away. CHAPTER III. DEATH. “Why should death be linked with fear? A single breath—a low drawn sigh, Can break the ties that bind us here, And waft the spirit to the sky.” MRS. WELBY.