Lizzie Belton and Minnie Smith looked quite abashed, hiding their faces as Madeline proudly took Roland's arm, and left the room. As soon as they were out of hearing, she exclaimed-- "There, Roland, don't say that I am not a prophetess; I knew the day would come when you'd make these silly upstarts feel ashamed of themselves. I felt proud of you to-night, Roland, for I saw that they were mortified as soon as they knew who it was. I suppose that they would like to obtain the notice of Roland Bruce now." "Madeline, is not this very much of the old leaven?" "Yes, I suppose it is, guardian; but it was in this very room where they used to be so mean, and I could not help the feeling. They have heard you make your speech in Maple Lane School, and it did some good, too; I am thankful for that. Now I'm going to prophesy a little more--don't shake your wise head, good sir, at my folly--you'll be an 'Honorable' yet. I expect to address letters to the 'Honorable Roland Bruce, U.S. Senate.'" Roland burst out laughing. "Of all the scheming little heads that ever sat upon the shoulders of a woman, yours exceeds. What possesses you, Madeline?" and Roland laughed again most heartily; "how can you ever dream of such a thing? I shall never be a politician." "No, I know that, I should be very sorry for that; but worth and talent sometimes meets its reward, even here." "Madeline, I have but one ambition,--to serve my God faithfully in whatever station he appoints, and to walk hand in hand with one of the purest and loveliest of God's creatures in the path that leads us home to Heaven." CHAPTER XXIX. BEATITUDES. A mariner on the broad, mysterious ocean is sailing homeward; he has encountered many fearful storms, laid by wearily in exhausting calms, and steered safely amid rocks and shoals, with the blessed haven still in sight of faith's eyeglass. He is nearing home; chart and compass awaken a thrill of hope and love, as they point so surely to the same familiar outline of approaching land. A small speck, as of a distant star, is gleaming on him through the atmosphere; sometimes very faint, then brighter, clearer, fuller, until the beacon of the light-house, with the steady brilliancy of a small, well-defined orb, speaks to his heart the one sweet word of "Home."