"Not to-day, mother," said William, drawing her work playfully away, "or rather, not tonight. See how dark it is. I think we shall have more snow."

"I hope not, for some hours at least."

My mother arose as she spoke, and folding up all the work together, put it carefully away. After that, she came and sat with us round the fire, talking pleasantly, and even cheerfully, about many things; but I noticed that all the time she kept shading her eyes from the flickering light, as if it pained them. I do not remember taking any part in the conversation, my heart was too full of new thoughts and resolutions.

Once my mother asked me if I was ill. But my headache had passed away, and I assured her that I never felt better or stronger in my life-strong not only in mind and body, but in faith and trust. I had followed William's advice by casting my burden upon the Lord, and he sustained me. But I did not tell her this.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE BATTLE OF LIFE.

"WILLIAM," said my father that evening, as we sat at tea, "I have good news for you. You need not leave home after all."

How my brother's face brightened! And my dear mother's also.

"What has happened?" asked she quickly. "Nothing particular, only that I have at length succeeded in obtaining the vacancy in our office for him."

My mother sighed, as if she was a little disappointed that that was all. And then smiled a moment afterwards and said, she was very glad indeed.

"If you have no objection, father," said William, "I would rather go to Mr. Martin's. I think he expects me."

"Of course I have no objection wish it. It is for you to choose. have you bear in mind that the

if you really

But I would

salary is less

and the labour greater. If you like, I will see Mr. Martin after tea, and explain matters to him. He has been very kind to you, and has, I know, your real interest at heart.'

"No, thank you, father. I prefer keeping my engagement. John can have the situation which you were kind enough to offer me." I felt the blood rush into my face as my father turned and looked at me.

"Is this your wish, my boy?" asked he. "Yes, father," I replied, "my earnest wish." "He is very young," suggested my mother, "and I almost fear the confinement for him."

Oh, mother, don't be afraid; it will not hurt me. Recollect what a long walk I shall have there and back to make up for it." "In all weathers, my son."

"Never mind. I am used to going out in all weathers. Let me go, mother.”

She looked at my father.

"I know," continued I, "that I have not paid as much attention to accounts as I ought. But if you will only give me time, father-if you will only try me, and have patience with me for a day or two, you shall see how quickly I will make up for lost time."

"But what about double-entry?" asked my father, with an arch glance.

"I will learn it. I will do anything you wish."

My mother smiled, but there were tears in her eyes; and I knew by that smile, and by those tears, that I was to go.

"You are sure you do not mind, William ?" said I, when this point had been settled.

"No, indeed; I am very glad. It would have been scarcely fair to have broken off my engagement with Mr. Martin so suddenly, after all his kindness. Although I feel sure that he would have given his consent, if it had been for my advantage."

"It was for your advantage."

"I would rather that you had it," said my kind brother.

"When shall you be ready to go, John?" asked my father.

the reply.

"To-morrow, if you wish it." "The sooner the better," was "To-morrow let it be." That night my father did not forget to pray for his two sons about to enter for the first time into the busy world; and to supplicate that God and Saviour who