After a consultation of eminent physicians, the painful alternative was proposed to Mr. Hamilton. When they had gone, he sent for his daughter. "Madeline, you remember that I told you in all things we must trust in God; you have now great occasion for that holy confidence. I have never told you until now the nature of my disease. It has been a long and painful process that has brought me to the crisis; an operation is necessary, my child;" observing Madeline's pallid face, he continued, "do not be alarmed; all is in the hands of a wise and gracious God. It may be successful, or I may sink under the operation; but nothing else can be done, and we must prepare our minds; it will be speedily over, there will be no very long suspense. Be the end what it may, I trust that I am prepared; my hopes are all upon the 'Rock of Ages.'" "When will it take place, papa?" asked the trembling girl. "In about ten days," was the answer; "and now, darling, we will talk no more about it; to-morrow will be Sunday; you must go to church, Madeline, and have prayers offered for me; Aunt Matilda will stay with me." It was a season of sweet and holy refreshment to the young pilgrim, for she needed the heavenly manna for her weary, anxious spirit. Passing out of church, what was her surprise to see Roland, the friend of her youth, standing at the door in company with two gentlemen; the one elderly, of noble presence, and the other a young gentleman, of whom she had no remembrance. Roland advanced, extended his hand, and said-- "How is it that you are here alone, Miss Hamilton?" "My father is very ill; my aunt is staying with him, and he sent me to have prayers offered for him. I need them, oh, how much! remember me, Mr. Bruce." Madeline was pale and worn, and Roland was touched by the expression of deep sorrow upon her fair young face. He took the little hand as in days of yore, and said, in low tones-- "Do you dream, Miss Hamilton, that I can ever forget you at a throne of grace? You are always remembered there and everywhere." Roland then hastily introduced his friends, but Uncle Malcolm had recognized the young lady that he had once met before in a carriage. A glance at the earnest gaze of Roland, and at the downcast blush of Madeline, caused a smile to flit across the face of the good man, as he remembered the days of his youth, and the sweet blushes of Mary Gordon in the first days of their innocent, unhappy love. "Where are you staying, Mr. Bruce?" asked the young lady; "I may need your presence ere long." Roland gave his address, and they parted. "Well, Roland Bruce!" said Edmund, "of all the sly fellows that I have ever met, you exceed--here have I been prating to you of Madeline Hamilton's beauty, and behold, she is an old acquaintance!" Roland smiled, as he replied, "Yes, I knew her in America, ever since she was ten years old; and I am therefore somewhat acquainted with the young lady." "And why, then, do you not visit your old friend?"