"Give my love to uncle. Tell him I would not have it different—I am going on first, that's all.—Don't let her know till after she's married.—Cleansed in the blood—Drawn with the bands of love.—Look, Millie! The silvery pathway is shining just as it did when you saw it.—Why—why, mother!—" Phil started up in bed, drew one deep gasp, and fell back upon his pillow—dead. * * * * * The knell tolled at Chormouth, and mingled its sounds with the distant echo of Miss Crawford's wedding bells, but she knew not till days after that Phil's happy spirit had passed away from earth on her marriage morn. Dr. Bethune is a famous physician now. "Little feet pattering and little tongues chattering—" are heard from morning till night in his house. His wife, amid all her duties, still finds time and opportunity to carry on the good work which she began years ago. Phil's picture hangs in her bedroom, and the story of his life and death is familiar to all her children. Richard Hunt never returned to his old habits of intemperance. He now lives in a healthy suburb of London, and is highly esteemed by his neighbours. He, too, has reasons to remember Phil. In speaking of him, he utters his name reverently, as if it bore a sacred charm. Millie and her father still live in the old cottage at Chormouth, but there are rumours abroad that a certain young farmer in the neighbourhood has asked her to become his wife and that she has consented. So there are changes in store for Millie. But after all, it will still be home, for her father will be near her; and from the windows of the farmhouse in which she will live can be seen two graves in a corner of the churchyard, those of her mother and her brother. A marble stone, placed there by Mrs. Bethune, stands between the two. It bears the name of both, and below are the words so full of memory to Millie— "WE LOVE HIM BECAUSE HE FIRST LOVED US." [Illustration] PRINTED AT THE OTTO WORKS FETTER LANE, LONDON. JAMES BEVERIDGE, MANAGER.