Under the eye of the glorious three, the silent, wondrous work is going on. The _Father_, planning the scheme of man's redemption; the _Son_, executing it by sacrifice of himself; the _Spirit_, with his powerful breath vivifying the sleeping germs. And then the glorious harvest, when the reapers come to gather in the sheaves! O, blessed day of jubilee, when Jesus comes! There has been but little of the discipline of sorrow thus far in the life of Madeline. That refining process was deemed best for Roland in his early days--now, a long season of sunshine hath succeeded, and the deeper incisions of grafting and pruning are reserved for future years. Blessed are they who wait in patience on the hand of the wise and loving cultivator! Ten years have passed over husband and wife, each year deepening and purifying their love. Each anniversary of her wedding day, Madeline has learned to look under her pillow for some sweet token of affection. A faithful likeness of himself, finely set, a handsome pin with his mother and sister's hair, a rich diamond ring, with united initials engraved within the circlet, and various other dear mementoes, have marked each returning wedding day. Three lovely children are added to the domestic circle; Malcolm Graham, a boy of seven, Mary Gordon, a child of five, and Lilian, a sweet prattler of three years, fill the halls of Woodcliff with their merry voices. One lovely boy, their little Lewis, sleeps in the quiet cemetery, and the infant spirit has formed another tie to beckon the parents heavenward. Another anniversary morning has arrived, and the pictures of her household darlings greet Madeline on her first awaking. "This is indeed a treasure!" said the happy wife, "how perfect is the likeness! you could have given me nothing that can please me better! and now, dear, here is my own little keep-sake for this happy day," and Madeline produced a beautiful miniature of herself, in the bloom of her ripe womanhood. "Ten years, Madeline, have passed, and I can say truly 'how much the wife is dearer than the bride,'" and Roland fondly kissed the sweet lips, and calm, pure forehead, of the one he loved so well. Stephen Bruce grows cheerful in the society of his grand-children, and seems to be renewing his youth among these dear prattlers; his piety is becoming more and more simple-hearted, more like that of a little child. Roland is daily growing more influential; and notwithstanding his high principles of integrity, after a few years, there is found virtue enough to send him to the Senate of the United States, and Aunt Matilda is becoming quite reconciled that Madeline should be the wife of a Senator. At Washington in winter, Madeline is too truly a mother to leave her children at Woodcliff, and too faithful, as a wife, to part from her husband; consequently, the house is left under the care of a housekeeper, and the family-circle take up their abode at the capital.