economy

in time was quite as needful as economy in money. She had been early impressed with the belief that our time is not our own,-that each moment of our life is lent us for some wise purpose, and that for every moment needlessly wasted account must be rendered. Well would it be if all could give as good an account as she will be able to render, of constant usefulness to her fellow-creatures and consistent service of her God. Millicent was no heroine; there was nothing outwardly to distinguish her from many of her class; but all her virtues might be summed up in one, she did her "duty in that station of life into which God had called her." There is no form of selfexamination better or more comprehensive than this. Masters and servants, husbands and wives, children and parents, ask yourselves this question; and if you can answer it as Millicent could, your consciences will be as light and easy as hers.

CHAPTER II.

"Cursed is wealth when it falls to the share

Of the groping dotard or selfish heir;

But wisely scatter the talents ye hold,

And blessings shall fall on the Spirit of Gold."
ELIZA COOK's Poems.

THE Vicarage of Wetherly was nothing better than a rambling old farm-house, but the present incumbent had married an heiress, and was therefore enabled greatly to improve and adorn the house and grounds, which had many capabilities, and only needed money well laid out to make it a charming place. This suited the taste of Mr. Ponsonby far better than if he had found a residence which required no altering; to plant and build, alter and contrive, was the greatest possible amusement to him; and all his leisure time he might be seen directing his workmen and often assisting them. A never-failing hopefulness and untiring energy were amongst Mr. Ponsonby's characteristics. Nothing he liked better than a difficulty; and what would have daunted the courage and damped the

spirits of many others, only seemed to exhilarate his, and urge him on to fresh exertion. What he wished for he believed he could obtain; and rested not till countless disappointments proved to him it was not to be. His joyous temper, kindly nature, and affectionate disposition, made him a favourite with all. But to say that his wife loved him, conveys but a faint impression of the depth of devotion felt for him by the girl who had married him against the wishes of her friends, who considered that the property she possessed should purchase for her a much higher estate than the humble one of a clergyman's wife. But Edith took a very different view of the position,-she thought there could be no higher station; and to assist with her money the endeavours of him she loved, and to take care of the flock intrusted to him, she considered the most enviable thing in the world; and mildly, but firmly, she resisted the opposition of her aunt and uncle, who had the charge of her (for Edith was an orphan), and as soon as she was of age, married Edward Ponsonby, and went away to the small village of Wetherly and the humble Vicarage-house as proudly happy as though a palace waited to receive her. The only drawback to their matrimonial felicity was her extremely delicate health; but with his usual sanguine temperament -Mr. Ponsonby believed that in time the country air, and the care and love he lavished on her, would

perfectly restore her; and though, poor thing! she only left the sofa to go round the garden in an invalid chair, he still hoped on, and the joyous smile still played on his lips and gave encouragement and fresh spirits to his drooping wife.

About one o'clock on the morning that Millicent was expected, Mrs. Ponsonby was lying on her couch by the open window, while her husband was busily employed directing the gardener where to place some standard roses; his anxiety was to get them exactly where she could see them from her couch, for everything he did had a view to her comfort and amusement.

"Edward, love," she said, as he approached near the window, "do you think Millicent Ray will come?"

"Yes, surely; why not?"

"But she's late."

"You said two o'clock, darling; it is not one yet."

"And when she does come, will she do what I want, Edward?"

"Of course, how can she help doing what you want, or any one else? you know you've only to ask and have."

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you, my Edward, I know; but if all the world were like you, I should be so spoilt that there would

be no bearing me.

Hark! there's the gate-bell,

-Millicent Ray, I dare say."

It was Millicent; and she was shown at once into the presence of Mrs. Ponsonby.

The sweet smile and pleasant good morning which saluted her won Millicent's heart at once.

"I must apologise for sending for you, Millicent," Mrs. Ponsonby continued, "but I am not equal to the least exertion, and seldom get beyond the garden."

"Pray do not mention that, ma'am. I am very pleased to come to you, and always shall be whenever you require me."

"Thank you very much. I will not detain you longer than I can help, but come at once to the point. Now, my husband and myself are anxious to do the best we can for the flock he has so recently had committed to his care; he is able to work amongst them actively, but I am unhappily unable to do anything but think of them and make schemes for their benefit which others must carry out. Yet He who has afflicted me with such delicate health has given me, as He does to all His creatures, compensation for the trial. I have money at my command, and wish to spend it in the most efficient way for the good of our poor. I find there is a school for girls and boys, with an excellent master; but I am anxious to establish a kind of Training School for the bigger girls; and it was on