melancholy spectacle. He once had been a father, though all that remained to earth of his darling one was left to mingle with the dust again, in a quiet country churchyard far away. And no second Lillie had ever appeared to gladden his bereaved heart, or fill the void that death had made in his household.

Gently he bent over the little suffering girl, and inquired in a tone of sympathetic tenderness, "What is the matter with you, my poor child?

The large blue eyes unclosed, and fastened upon the stranger's countenance with timid distrust; but the kindly look they met there was reassuring, so she faintly replied, "Oh, sir! I ha'nt got anybody to love me, and I am no good to any body."

"Poor child," said M. Lennard, compassionately, "where is your home?"

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I ha'nt got none, sir,” she replied, sadly.

"No home, my child! Where are your parents ? " "They are both dead, sir," was the answer. "Father was drowned in the deep sea, last year, and soon after mother died too; and since that I ha'nt had anybody to love me or care for me, and I can't do without her at all, at all. O mother! mother! why did you die, and leave Annie alone!" And she hid her face in her hands, while the tears flowed fast afresh, and forced their way through her slender fingers.

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"Hush! hush! my child," said he, soothingly; you have shed tears enough for one day, so dry your eyes now and look up, and tell me to whom you belong."

"I don't belong to any one now, sir, for the old woman I lived with died last night."

“This is a sad story," said he, kindly; “and I suppose it is her loss that affects you so much at present ?"

"Oh no, sir! I ain't sorry she's dead," she ex

claimed, in an impassioned tone, for she was wicked, and bad, and cruel; and I didn't like her, and never could. I didn't want to live with her, only I was obliged; but I shan't have to do so any longer now, and I'm so glad."

"My child," said be, in a slight tone of reproof, "it is wrong for you to speak so against her. Has she not provided you with food and clothing always?"

"No, not always, sir, for sometimes when she's cross, she won't let me have nothing to eat for a whole day, and she wouldn't care if I had been starved."

She had grown so wildly excited while her little mind dwelt upon its wrongs, that M. Lennard forbore to question her any further about the matter; but endeavoured by gentle and soothing words to stem the rising torrent of her passion; and when at length he had in a great measure succeeded, he inquired her name.

"Annie Grey," she replied.

"Well then, Annie," said he, "how came you here ?"

"There wasn't any one there, sir, and 'twas so dark, I could not stay alone; so I came out, and got so cold and tired that I sat down here."

"And how long have you been here?"

"I don't know, sir; it seems a very long time-all the night, I suppose; but I slept some of the hours away.' "how very

"Poor child," said he, pityingly ; cold and hungry you must be."

"I am, sir," she replied; "but, there, I'm used to it; and so it does not seem so bad."

"But did all the people that passed by here before go on without noticing you?"

"There hasn't been any one go on before you came,

sir, and 'twas so dark, and so cold; but I don't mind it now, sir." And she looked trustingly into his face, as though quite confident she had found a friend at last.

"But what do you intend to do with yourself now, and where will you seek a home?"

"I don't know; I han't got nothing to do, nor nowhere to go to." And her voice quivered slightly as she spoke.

Strange thoughts passed through M. Lennard's mind as the low musical tones of that child's voice vibrated again and again upon bis ear; and a shadow, almost a cloud, passed over his handsome countenance as he brushed his hands quickly across his eyes. The little outcast's words had touched a chord in his heart that had awakened memories of the long unthought-of past, when he, a humble labourer's son, lay stretched upon his mother's grass-grown grave, shedding such bitter tears as only those in a similar situation can shed. How lonely, how desolate he felt, as fancy recalled the painful scene of the morning, when harshness and cruelty had driven him from the miserable dwelling which he was compelled to call his home! How sweet, how soothing, the kind and gentle words that were spoken to him there by a stranger's lips! How benign, how compassionate, the look that met his tearful eyes! How it refreshed his drooping heart! How it lightened the load of care that was weighing down his youthful spirits! Ah! more than twenty years had passed away since then, and that man, who had since been as a father to him, was now slumbering in the tomb, awaiting in glorious hope the resurrection of the just, whilst he was left behind to testify the worth of one to whom he was indebted, under God, for his wealth and his position-yea, all that he possessed; but, above all,

one who had been instrumental in bringing his erring soul to Christ. And he offered up a silent tribute of praise and gratitude to God, who had provided him with friends and home when destitute of both, and who had crowned his later years so richly with the bounties of His providence. And he inwardly resolved to be to this little friendless girl what another had been to him. She should occupy the vacancy that death had made in his heart when it nipped in the bud their darling Lillie, the only child. And he secretly prayed for strength to accomplish the great work which he had undertaken, of instilling into that little untaught mind the first principles of truth. And he felt grateful to God, who had directed his steps to that lonely spot, on this particular morning, for the purpose of rescuing a homeless orphan child from her destitute and starving condition.

Poor little creature! her benumbed limbs refused to carry her any farther, even though it were to M. Lennard's comfortable home; but she hastily dried her eyes, and even smiled, when he told her that henceforth he would be a father to her, and she should be his loving little daughter; and that cold and hunger should henceforth only be known in her recollections of the past; and, that guarded and protected beneath his roof, she should feel no want that it was in his power to supply, and no sorrow from which he was able to shield her.

But suddenly recollecting her famishing state, and how necessary it was she should immediately be provided with something warm and nourishing, he drew off bis own comfortable overcoat, and wrapping it around her, started homewards. And what mattered it to him that the young folks exchanged some con temptuous smiles among themselves from the win

dows, as he passed by bearing his little friendless charge.

Madame Lennard was extremely astonished, and almost displeased too, with the present her husband made her that morning, and she heard with evident disapproval his benevolent intentions. But though her reception of the child was by no means cordial, she made no objection to satisfying for the present the cravings of her appetite; and refreshed by the good things that were set before her, the wearied child soon fell asleep.

Madame Lennard gazed for a few moments on the pale, sorrowful countenance, so placid and yet so prematurely care worn, and her heart considerably softened as she thought on the many sufferings and trials that little one had probably undergone; and bending kindly over her, she imprinted one warm, motherly kiss upon her pallid cheek, and while a tear-drop glistened in her eye, she inwardly resolved that the little orphan girl should indeed find a home there.

But Annie did not long enjoy the comforts and pleasures of her new abode, for they did not restore again her wonted health and strength; for that one night of exposure to the biting frost and chilly winds had wrought more injury to her frail constitution than months of privation and hardship had previously done. And it was soon too plainly apparent that she was not destined long to bloom in this cold and fleeting world; for though the most loving smiles ever met her eyes, and the most gentle words were spoken in her ears, and the greatest luxuries were procured for her, it was like the refulgent rays of the summer's sun shining upon a withered flower, that revived not again beneath its radiant beams, but drooped its head more and more despondingly,