A native country may mean, strictly speaking, the land of one's birth and nationality, but to the strongest and tenderest hearts it means that spot wherein dwells what they most love. Cold at heart, Katharine left the station, and took a cab to Victoria, where she paced drearily up and down the platform until her train was ready. In due time she alighted at Hamerton in the dark, and took her unwilling way to Mrs. Holden's. When she arrived there, she would be alone: all the next day, and for how many days to come! she would be alone. She felt as if she were a solitary, mateless, companionless atom, dropped down into a world where every one else had some one or something depending upon him, or upon whom he depended. CHAPTER VI. 'We heard beside the heavenly gate the angels murmuring; ATHARINE entered the kitchen. The ruddy firelight shone, but the room was empty of life. She felt an intense, unconquerable repugnance to go to her own desolate room, and she lingered in the kitchen, looking round. with careless eyes, unseeing its homely details. Presently Mrs. Holden came in, crying. 'What is the matter?' asked Katharine, as softly, and with as much interest as she could. Eh, it's yon poor lass o' mine. Hoo's vary bad that feeble, and sorry, and her hands like a fire. Eh, I wonder what I've done, as this sud have happened!' A fresh burst of sobs. 'Oh, Mrs. Holden!' said Katharine, feeling all the blind, impotent desire to do something against a strong, remorseless evil which visits us at all times-'I suffer as much as you do. This thing is making my whole But what can we do? All life wretched. our efforts are in vain. wrong; we cannot right it. life if I could.' It is a cruel I'd give my 'Ay,' said Mrs. Holden, with slow bitter acquiescence, 'I reckon its none o' your fault as there's sich like doin's. But that does me no good; and it won't cure Sara. T'lass has had her heart broke; and him as has done it cares nowt about it, nor wont, without t' Lord punishes him.' 'He is being punished,' said Katharine, respecting the woman's indignation, and an guish, but feeling that she could not much longer bear to listen to her. 'Where is Sara?' she added; 'I will go to her.' Mrs. Holden made no objection, and Katharine sought her. She (Katharine) had got somewhat used to the terrible change in poor Sara, and she knew too that she was dying that even the strong hope of approaching motherhood could not keep her long alive. The doctor had told Katharine, and she could see for herself, that the girl had not long to suffer. To a stranger one glance would have been enough. Sara, in the bloom of her youth and the pride of her beauty, was doomed. All unwilling and struggling, she must leave a world which she loved-which held all she cared for. For her the future was drear, hopeless, limited. If she went to heaven, which she scarcely anticipated or hoped, what was there to attract her there? The VOL. III. E heaven of Sunday - schools and the Popular It was Theology is not an inviting spot. to Sara a bright, comfortless, insupportably radiant place, without recess or shelter, a place 'Where congregations ne'er break up, And Sabbaths have no end.' She did not wish to die, or to go there. She was young, beautiful, admired; she had her joys. True, a blight had settled upon them. Life was not the simple, unperplexing business it had been, but an awful compound, in which it was possible for deceit, contempt, and denial to take large shares, and cause anguish to her. Yet-might not time have wrought a change-would it not work one even yet? If Wilfrid knew all, surely he would relent, pity her, speak tenderly once more! Trouble brings out faculties which prosperity and satisfaction allow to lie dormant. Sara had begun to feel, to question, to reason, since her great grief had come |