Roland was not in New York when they first arrived, having gone to a neighboring town on important business. Madeline was devoted in her attendance upon Effie; reading to her, and in every way that affection could invent, trying to turn her thoughts from herself. Effie was, however, in habits of daily self-communion, schooling her young heart to what she felt was coming. "God help me!" was her constant cry; and when was that feeble prayer ever disregarded by the dear Father in Heaven? CHAPTER XIX "AULD LANG SYNE." Madeline's presence in New York is soon known among her friends; numberless cards are left at her house, but as her errand is one chiefly of business, she returns but few calls; a few exceptions, however, are made; for she wishes Effie to have some cheerful society. Occasionally, excursions are made around New York for the purpose of amusing her young friend, for Madeline spares no pains to cheer her drooping spirits. Roland has returned; he has been absent on exceedingly annoying and troublesome business, and somewhat to throw off care, takes a boat for the bay. It is a beautiful evening, and has invited a merry party of ladies and gentlemen to take the same excursion. Roland does not relish the companionship of the light-hearted, and withdraws himself from their neighborhood; not far from where he stands, he observes the form of a lady leaning over the side of the boat; sometimes gazing dreamily upon the water, then upon the heavens above; it looks like a familiar form. He recognizes the face of Madeline, but avoids recognition, because he wishes to watch her movements. She seems melancholy and abstracted, and hums sadly a familiar air, one that he had taught her; the dear old song of "Auld Lang Syne." "Does she remember those happy times?" thought the young man, "and surrounded as she is by so much to make her forget those early days; does she still cherish the memory of her boyish friend?" He observed her wipe a tear silently away, and as she turned to renew her walk, Roland moved towards her, and she recognized the object of her thoughts. "Mr. Bruce!" "Miss Madeline!" were the hasty salutations, as each extended a hand of welcome. "How came you here, Miss Madeline?" was Roland's first question. "I am here with Effie, for advice with regard to her eyes." "Is she with you to-night?" "She is not, for she has but little heart for amusement; she insisted on my coming, and I have left her in good company for the evening." "You were musing, Miss Madeline," said Roland, in a lower voice, "and singing that old Scotch song; did it recall former childish days?" For a minute, Madeline did not reply; at last she said, "I shall never forget those days; how often do I need just such a friend as I had then." "There is a friend, Madeline, 'that sticketh closer than a brother;' have you found him yet?" "I am trying, Roland, but there is much to hinder; my faith is very weak; my heart very deceitful."