SEYMOUR'S LAST SABBATH IN ENGLAND. 37

CHAPTER V.

THE next three months passed quickly away; too quickly to those who were so soon to be parted. To be parted! and "for how long? would cross their minds. Ah well is it that we cannot see into futurity, for human nature would sink into despair were it given us to know all that is to happen to us during our lifetime. As it is, one stroke after another may fall; but they come gradually and can be borne, for God "tempers the wind to the shorn lamb."

The dreaded hour drew nigh, and in two days Seymour was to leave England. The last Sabbath morn he would spend for many years in his native land, dawned with a face of nature, smiling and beautiful.

It was September, a month generally fine in our island, and this was one of its brightest days.

Agnes Hope looked from her window, and viewed the scene with a sickening heart. Under any other circumstances it would have elated her with happiness, but now it seemed a mockery to her feelings.

This separation from one of her childhood's friends, was the first grief she had experienced, and it fell bitterly on her young spirit.

Whilst standing listlessly, her elbow resting on the window-sill, and her hand supporting a really aching brow the chimes began as usual at six o'clock on the Sunday mornings.

Sweet village bells! now echoing forth your harmonious strains on the balmy morning air; here swelling in full anthem on the close passing gale; there, floating on zephyr's wings, till the dying cadence is lost to the listening ear. Now pealing forth a merry crash in honour of some bridal day ; now, in more measured strains, reminding some who haply might otherwise forget it, that it is the Sabbath morn on which their eyes are opening; the day not their own, but the Lord's. Now again swelling on the noon-day and evening breezes, to call the little flock to join in worshipping the Lord of the Sabbath.

Sweetly did the bells of the old church of Woodlands, fall on the listening ear of Agnes Hope; and recalling her to herself, reminded her, that, although she could not then take pleasure in nature, she could in nature's God find peace and joy and kneeling down, with upraised and streaming eyes, the little girl poured out her soul in prayer; simple but genuine prayer, coming from the heart. She had taken the Lord for her portion, was determined to be on His side, and she now found in her hour of trial, that He was her help.

The morning and afternoon services were over ; and Seymour Allerton walked down to the Vicarage

to receive Mr. Hope's parting advice and blessing. His step was less elastic than usual, for his heart felt the pang of approaching separation from so many dear ones; and downcast were his eyes as

he walked up the lawn.

He was about to pass the study window, in order to reach the hall-door, when a sight attracted his notice, which made him hesitate.

Little Agnes was seated in the recess of the window-one arm lay on the sill, and on it rested her sweet face, flushed as if from weeping. In her other hand Seymour noticed his gift-the locket, clasped firmly between her little fingers. She was fast asleep, and as he stooped to look more closely at that dear countenance, he observed a large tear beneath each deeply-fringed lid, which had not yet coursed down the rounded cheek.

"It is not the first time, sweet child," he said, "that I have kissed a tear lids, but it may be the last.

away from thine eyeYes, Agnes, thou wilt return from India (if

be a woman long before I God spare my life to do so at all), and then I may not presume to offer thee a brother's kiss of love; so I'll give it while I may." And tenderly he kissed the Hebe face of his young favourite.

Agnes was so heavily asleep, that she did not awake at first; but at length, starting up, she shook back her clustering curls, and rubbing her sleepy eyes, she looked at Seymour slightly bewildered.

"Seymour!" she said, "have you been long here?

Papa went to see a sick woman, but he would not let me go with him; he fancied I looked tired. But it is not so; I am sad, not tired. So I sat down to read at least I meant to read, but first took up your gift to look at it, and foolishly looked too long."

"And were mesmerised, in fact, darling: was it not so?"

"Something like it, for I certainly have been asleep. But here comes papa.”

Seymour advanced to meet Mr. Hope, and both came in together; when the latter spoke most affectionately to the young soldier, and bestowed on him much valuable advice.

He remained to tea, and the vicar and his daughter walked home with him afterwards.

The following morning, Seymour, accompained by his father and brother, started for Portsmouth; nor did they leave him till they had seen him on board the "Bucephalus." The parting was sad on all sides, and for some days a gloom was cast over the families of the Hall and Vicarage.

But time past on, and then came letters from Seymour, cheeringly written, and ere long they recovered their spirits, and happiness once more reigned amongst them.

They all missed Cecil when he returned to Cambridge in October; but they had him with them. again at Christmas, then at Easter, and each season was one of additional enjoyment.

A FAVOURITE RESORT.

41

CHAPTER VI.

ALTHOUGH the village of Woodlands was beautifully embowered by foliage, and had every appearance of being an inland place, it was only five or six miles from the western coast; and it was an occasional treat to the young people to be permitted to drive thither and spend a few hours on the delightful sands, inhaling the invigorating sea-breezes, and amusing themselves by collecting shells and sea-weed, and climbing the slippery rocks at low water.

One fine afternoon in the early summer, Lady Gertrude and Agnes set forth in the pony carriage for this favourite resort, accompanied only by the faithful old man-servant, who was to take charge of the phaeton on the brow of the hill, whilst they descended to the shore.

The sun was shining warm and bright, and the tide as it rolled softly in over the smooth sands, could scarce be beard, so calm were the ocean waters, so almost without a ripple!

The two friends had been for some time amongst the low sea-weed and limpet-covered rocks, engrossed in their search for shells; so much so, that they never