“Dear Elsie, if the material and temporal good of mankind were first to be thought of, doubtless then it were better that wealth should be in the hands of the benevolent and philanthropic. But such is not the case. It is the spiritual and eternal welfare both of the individual and of the race that is provided for; and hence each individual is placed in circumstances, not where he can do the most seeming good, but where he can best develop his moral and spiritual nature. Thus, you have benevolence. You do not need to have that virtue cultivated by the contrast of your own wealth with another’s want, and by the exercise of almsgiving; hence, you are not schooled in prosperity and the duty of beneficence. But, Elsie, as you are not perfect, perhaps there are other virtues you lack, and which can be developed only in poverty. But I did not mean to preach you a little sermon, darling. And now, in requital of prosing, I will tell you two pieces of good news—first, that as this is the last year in which we shall be put to any expense for Hugh’s college course of lectures, we shall have a hundred or so dollars over our annual expenditures; half of this sum you shall disburse in judicious alms. That is my first piece of glad tidings, and my second is like unto it—Hugh himself will be home to-night.” “Hugh home to-night? Oh, you don’t say so!” “Yes; this afternoon, in post office, I got a letter that arrived yesterday. And this letter announces the arrival of Hugh this very evening.” “Hugh coming home this evening? Oh, I am so glad! Children, children, did you hear? Brother Hugh is coming home this evening.” “Brother Hugh is come!” said a pleasant voice, as the door opened, and Hugh Hutton stood among them. All arose, and Magnus and Elsie hastened to meet him. “Dear friends,” he said, shaking hands right and left, “I could not resist the desire I felt to go to the window and look in upon you while you were all at your quiet evening occupations. I have been watching you for the last two minutes.” “You rogue! But come to the fire, come to the fire. Supper is just ready,” said Dr. Hardcastle, while Hugh threw off his great-coat, and laid it aside with his hat. “Oh, Hugh, we are so glad to see you! Had you a pleasant journey? What time did you get to the village? You have traveled day and night, I am afraid? And then you have walked from the village here?” “Yes; I couldn’t have got a horse for two or three hours; and I really couldn’t wait, I was so eager to get home.” “Dear Hugh, you must be so tired and hungry! Here, sit down in this chair near the fire,” said Elsie, pushing a chair forward with one hand, while she held the child with the other arm. Hugh threw himself into the chair, and mechanically stretched out his arms and took the crowing, laughing infant from its mother, and set it upon his knee, playing with it all the time he talked to others.