"I saw a house advertised for rent in the city, to-day, which I thought would suit us. It was small, and the rent three hundred dollars. On learning the owner's name, I found that he was an old business friend, with whom I had been quite intimate, and so called upon him. His reception of me was not over cordial. When I mentioned my errand, he hesitated in his replies, and finally hinted something about security for the rent. I left him without a word. To have replied without an exposure of unmanly weakness would have been impossible. Keenly, since my misfortunes, have I felt the change in my relations to the world; but nothing has wounded me so sharply as this! Mr. Willet, your generous interest in my welfare touches my heart! Let me talk with my family on the subject. I doubt not that we will accept your offer thankfully." CHAPTER XXXVI. "OUR Father in heaven never leaves us in a pathless desert," said Mrs. Markland, light breaking through her tear-filled eye. Her husband had just related the conversation held with Mr. Willet. "When the sun goes down, stars appear." "A little while ago, the desert seemed pathless, and no star glittered in the sky," was answered. "Yet the path was there, Edward; you had not looked close enough to your feet," replied his wife. "It was so narrow that it would have escaped my vision," he said, faintly sighing. "If it were not the safest way for you and for all of us, it would not be the only one now permitted our feet to tread." "Safest it may be for me; but your feet could walk, securely, a pathway strewn with flowers. Ah me! the thought that my folly--"