"At the end of the fourth year of the Marquis's confinement the small-pox broke out in the village, and the infection was brought to the castle. The Marquis and Henri were both seized by the dreadful disease, and both died in consequence. After their deaths, the poor Marchioness, hearing that the Waldenses had been driven from their happy valleys by the King, removed into a small house in the village near, where the Governor supported and protected her till her dying day." A Story of Besetting Sins [Illustration: "Do you remember anything of the sermon?"] One Sunday, soon after the death of poor Miss Augusta Noble, Mrs. Fairchild, having a bad cold, could not go to church with the rest of the family. When the children were come home from church, Mrs. Fairchild asked Lucy what the sermon was about. "Mamma," said Lucy, taking her Bible out of her little basket, "I will show you the text; it is in Heb. xii. 1: 'Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us.'" When Mrs. Fairchild had looked at the text, she said: "And do you remember anything more of the sermon, Lucy?" "Indeed, mamma," said Lucy, "I did not understand the sermon; it was all about besetting sins. What are they, mamma?" "I will explain," said Mrs. Fairchild. "Though our hearts are all naturally sinful, yet every man is not inclined alike to every kind of sin. One man, perhaps, is inclined to covetousness, another to swear and use bad words, another to lie and deceive, another to be angry and cruel; and that sin which a man feels himself most inclined to is called his besetting sin." "Oh! now I know what besetting sins mean," answered Lucy. "Has everybody a besetting sin, mamma?" "Yes, my dear," answered Mrs. Fairchild; "we all have, although we do not all know what they are." "Have I a besetting sin, mamma?" said Lucy. "Yes, my dear," said Mrs. Fairchild. "What is it, mamma?" asked Lucy. "Can you not tell what fault you fall into oftener than any other?" said Mrs. Fairchild. Lucy considered a little, and then answered she did not know. "I think, my dear," said Mrs. Fairchild, "although it is hard to judge any other person's heart, that your besetting sin is envy. I think I have often observed this fault in you. You were envious about Emily's doll, and about poor Miss Augusta Noble's fine house and clothes and servants, and about the muslin and ribbon I gave to Emily one day, and the strawberry your papa gave to Henry; and I have often thought you showed envy on other occasions." Lucy looked grave when her mother spoke, and the tears came into her eyes. "Mamma," she said, "I am a naughty girl; my heart is full of envy at times; but I pray that God would take this sin out of my heart; and I hate myself for it--you don't know how much, mamma."