disappointment burst forth in his mother's hearing next morning.

There are always periods of restraint and self-control in the earlier history of the poor inebriated. Some deep trial, or some consequence of his sin, brought strongly home to him, arrests him for a time in the downward course. But if the foe is still harboured, if the glass is still retained, and regarded as a good, or as a necessity, temptation will surely gain tenfold power again, and carry every resolution away as with a flood.

And thus it was yet again with Frank Hamer. For some time he appeared likely to carry out the determination he had formed in the bitterness of his soul. He devoted himself to study, business, and domestic intercourse; and tried to enjoy, with the old zest, the frolics and caresses of little Allie Day, Mrs. Hamer taking care that she should be often at Fairfield. Thus he filled up every hour so completely that he had not time to sit over the glass as he had been accustomed to do. Ah, had he then banished it for ever, how would "the crooked places have become straight" before him and "the rough places plain!" but he did not. He blindly persisted in believing, that he could, under this strong inpulse, continue the restraints he had imposed on himself; and soon, though he still kept close to home, it was evident to those who had begun to hope again in his good purposes, that he was rapidly succumbing to the enemy. Lower and lower he sank, and

ere long, not a day passed, in which he was not, in some portion of it, in a state of of intoxication.

Laura's influence, from which Mrs. Hamer and Mary had hoped so much, was as nothing against the dread power of the tempter. In truth she had never been able to realize the relation she bore to Frank, as she had fondly anticipated, nor to manifest the tenderness which she yearned to shew. The evil thing had raised a wall between them, which even a sister's affection could not scale. The same power had alienated William Lister also. He had watched the course of his friend with a sorrowing heart, and urged by Mrs. Hamer had more than once tried expostulation and entreaty ; but he had been met by such repulses, and by such strong intimations that his interference would not be tolerated, that he had given up in despair all hope of using his influence, except in so far as the example of his own daily life might go.

CHAPTER XVI.

LITTLE ALLIE'S LAST Ride.

She came, like music in the night.
Floating as heaven in the brain;
A moment open, and shut again,
And all is dark where all was light.

GERALD MASSEY.

YR. DAY was returning from his office one after

noon, shortly after the events related in the last chapter, at an earlier hour than usual. From a byepath which led most directly to his home, he had a full view of Fairfield, and the highway upon which the gates of the lawn opened. Just as he came in sight of these he saw Frank mounted on his beautiful horse, and stooping down to raise little Allie to the saddle. Two things at once attracted Mr. Day's attention: the group was outside the gates, and Allie, so far as her father could judge at the distance, was unwilling to be lifted on to Flash's back. Frank had hold of her hands, and appeared to be coaxing her to spring as usual into the seat before him. Suddenly, however, he lifted her there, and dashed off at a wild gallop. Astonished at so unusual a proceeding, Mr. Day ran with all his might across the field, shouting "stop! stop!" at the

pitch of his voice. Frank seemed neither to hear nor see him, but the distance was not too great to prevent a fearful scream from Allie reaching her father's ears. At this same moment he saw, with horror, that the terrified horse, startled by the child's shrieks, increased his speed to a furious rate, and, more dreadful still, that his rider appeared wholly incapable of restraining or even guiding him. The agonized father leaped over a rough wall that separated the field from the road, just in time to see the maddened animal rush past with tremendous rapidity. A stout riding-whip was in Frank's hand; with which he was violently lashing the poor horse; and, unaccustomed to such usage, the spirited creature was urged to its wildest speed. In his unspeakable terror, Mr. Day, panting for breath, could only follow, with dilated eyes, the course of the reckless horseman, till a far distant turn in the road hid all from his view. Then, sickening with fear, he again ran forward, till, passing the turn, he was arrested by a sight that turned the heated blood in his veins to an icy coldness. His very heart seemed to stand still as the dreadful scene met his view.

At the side of the road lay Frank, apparently senseless; a little further on stood Flash, with distended nostrils and foaming mouth, trembling in every limb; while little Allie, the darling child, her feet · entangled in the bridle, hung head downwards, her fair curls draggled with blood and dust?

Oh, the agony of that moment to the poor father! I have never been able to understand how he bore to lift the little unconscious form to his bosom and carry it to Fairfield, for his first impulse led him there. He did this, however, and, amid all his misery, did not forget Frank, for he stooped to raise the young man's head from the ground, and, perceiving signs of life, stayed to place him against the raised causeway in a sitting posture, holding the while his dying child to his bosom. For, little Allie was dying. An hour later, and her sweet baby-form lay cold and still in Mrs. Hamer's chamber!

As Mr. Day approached the house, he found Mrs. Hamer standing, terror-struck, at the gate. She was so intently looking for Frank's return from that mad ride, that she did not at first see who was coming, or notice what he held in his arms. When at length she became conscious that he bore little Allie, bleeding and senseless, a piercing cry burst from her lips, and she fell fainting to the ground. The servants, alarmed by her shriek, rushed to the spot, to find their mistress insensible, and Mr. Day bending over her, with his little one still pressed to his heart. Hurrying to the house, and reaching it before the servants, who bore Mrs. Hamer in their arms, he sat down with the child upon his knees, and begged in piteous terms that a a surgeon might be instantly sent for.

"Fly as for your life, or my child will die!" he