Glendale is a blessed sanctuary, and Calvary Church the centre of a holy influence in the midst of the homes of Woodcliff. Harry and Charles have not learned wisdom yet, for their youth was one of folly, and they are reaping the fruits, in advancing years, of uselessness and discontent; affections withered, intellects wasting, time flying, and their Lord coming for his reckoning--such is the life of thousands--who can bear to read their everlasting destiny? "Cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness." Uncle Malcolm's visit is drawing to an end, and he seeks an occasion of private conference with Edmund. "My son, I feel as if I canna gae hame wi'out ye and Annot; I am growing auld, Edmund, an' the cares o' life begin to weigh heavily upon me; why na move yer family to Scotland?" "It would be just the life that I should love, Uncle Malcolm; for years I have longed for the country. I am not calculated for commercial pursuits, and I know that Annot would only be too happy to be once more in her dear old home; there is but one difficulty--my mother would so mourn over the separation." "I hae enow to occupy us baith, Edmund; an' there are sae mony openings for usefu'ness, I am sure that we should be happy together. Then I am anxious that Annot's bairns should be trained in Scotland, for their inheritance will be there." Edmund spoke to Annot on the subject. "Can it be, dear Edmund? I hae sae langed for a return to my ain land, an' I agree perfectly wi' Uncle Malcolm that Scotland is the hame for our bairns." Mrs. Lindsay most earnestly added her influence, and Mrs. Norris, convinced that it was for Edmund's worldly prosperity, finally consented. American friends were pained to miss the dear faces of Annot's family from among their circle, but both Roland and Madeline saw that it was right. Uncle Malcolm had learned to love his little namesake, and, on the evening before their departure, took the child into his own room, and, after warm, affectionate counsels, prayed with the dear boy for God's blessing on his childhood and his youth. Going to his secretary, he brought out a handsome rosewood writing-desk, completely furnished. "This, my boy, is frae Uncle Malcolm; as soon as ye are auld enow, I hope that ye will mak guid use o' it. Ye will find i' the stable, too, a dear little pony that I hae bought for my namesake to ride; he is quite safe, an' papa will teach ye how to ride; ye maun ca' him Selim, after mamma's pony." "Thank you, dear good Uncle Malcolm; I'll try to be a good boy, and then you won't be sorry for these gifts," and the boy kissed the good old man again and again. Going down stairs, he called the little girls to his side. "Noo, Mary, what do ye think that Uncle Malcolm has for his bonnie lassie?" "I know just what I want, uncle." "What is it, my bairn? dinna be afraid to tell." "I want a pretty baby-house, uncle, for Lilian and me."