"Certainly, dear Roland, and I shall go with you; good Mr. Stewart and I have always been the very best of friends; he is on excellent terms with our own pastor, for he is one of God's dear people, and I love him as such." Madeline is very happy, for she is busy in fitting up the pretty parsonage of Glendale; as soon as the finishing touch shall be given, Helen will take her place there, as the pastor's gentle wife. Early in the autumn, the preparations were completed, and Stanley has brought his bride to the pleasant home. "What a beautiful study!" said Helen, as she looked around at the neat furniture; "such a complete table for a minister! such a pretty book-case! and so well filled! such a comfortable lounge! and cosy rocking-chair! I really think, husband, that I shall often bring my work here, when you are not too much occupied." "You will be welcome any day after twelve o'clock, Helen; for I must be alone until then. I have a system to live by. In the afternoon we shall ride out to visit my people, for I must make you acquainted with the humblest." "What a happy work is ours, dear husband! laboring together for that blessed kingdom which is to prevail upon the earth, and at last to sit down at the marriage-supper of the Lamb." At the appointed time, Edmund brought home his young Scottish bride, and settled in New York for the winter, spending their summers near Woodcliff; Annot retaining her connection with the church of her fathers, but often worshipping at Calvary, with the friends that she loved so well. * * * * * * * Ten years have passed--their rolling cycles bringing the changing seasons--spring, with its fresh young buds of life, summer with its ripening fruits, autumn with its fading glories ready to drop into the lap of winter; nursed tenderly through the night of nature, until the children of another spring proclaim their joyous advent, by the swelling buds, the winged songsters, the smiling skies, the music of babbling brooks, and balmy breath of the resurrection season. This, without the walls of Woodcliff--within also, there is growth, harmony with the visible works of the Divine renovator. The little seed planted so long ago by feeble boyish hands has germinated; often seeming almost lifeless; hidden from the light and the sun, but not from the great husbandman, who has watched its mysterious life. First the little sprout, then the delicate leaflets so tender and faintly green, then the stronger plant. Thus hath it been with the spiritual world at Woodcliff--the Divine workman invisible, the work so silent, yet so powerful! "The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit." The changing culture appointed each day, each hour, each minute, on to the very latest breath of mortal life, by the great husbandman of immortal fruits.