"But must I not be pleased that the jug is come back?" enquired Emma rather pertly; "Ought I to wish papa had lost it?"

"I will not answer such a question," replied Mrs. Colton; "for I know that, when you reflect, you will be ashamed of having asked it; but let me entreat you, my dear children, never encourage yourselves to think evil of your neighbours, for the next step in sin is to rejoice in their misdeeds; for it is their crimes or errors which apparently justify your evil thoughts of them. Charity rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth: be not therefore pleased because a fellowcreature has fallen into temptation, which you suspected he could not withstand; but rejoice in that blessed truth which is revealed to you that, even for that sinner, there is a Saviour offered, both able and willing to cleanse him from all the guilt and wretchedness which pertains to this vile body." Mrs. Colton said no more at this time, for she did not think Emma was in a mood to receive her reproof; she therefore left it to work on her mind as it should please the Divine Spirit of God, and in his own due time.

Caroline, however, appeared to listen with attention and humility; but Jemima at present

seemed to have no faculties by which she could take in the blessed word of God. It was to her as a book sealed, and as the fragrant odour which is diffused through the desert air-to the apprehension of the mere mortal mind, wasted. But what say the Scriptures of Truth? "Cast thy bread upon the waters, and after many days shalt thou find it."

When Mr. Fortescue returned in the evening, William took an opportunity of telling him the whole history of the silver creamjug, with his own intentions in bringing the man Clarke to the Hall.

The kind father was pleased with his son, and he said, in reply, "William, when you have settled on some other way of amusing your sisters, ask me, and I will do all in my power to assist you."

In a little while, the cream-jug was forgotten, Miss Fortescue being the only person, besides her brother and John, who knew all the particulars of the story.

CHAPTER XI.

Charity beareth all things.

ON the Wednesday morning following, a person came to the Hall with a message to Mrs. Colton, to say that Mr. Addison was taken dangerously ill, and her presence was required immediately at his bedside.

It was early, and before the usual breakfast. hour; so Mrs. Colton went down, and having communicated the sad news to Mr. Fortescue and his sister, whom she found already in the breakfast-room, begged permission to leave them for a while, as she felt it her duty to attend her uncle, who had been as a kind and tender father to her. Mr. Fortescue, with friendly attention, instantly ordered the carriage to the door; and before all the family had assembled down stairs, Mrs. Colton was on her way to the Parsonage.

The grief of Emma, when she heard of the departure of her beloved governess, was extremely great, and the more so when she recollected with what indifference and coldness she had listened to her last advice.

William, however, comforted her by saying, that as Mrs. Colton was only at the Parsonage, they might easily see her every day.

"Yes," said Caroline, " and when we walk out to-day, we will ask Mary to take us to the Parsonage."

It was a fine summer's morning; and as the children's holidays lasted during William's stay at home, they begged Mary to start early, so that they might linger about the pleasant lanes and gather sweet flowers; for William was going with them, and he would assist them in getting those that would otherwise have been out of their reach.

Mary was very good-natured, and she promised the children to do as they desired; so, very soon after breakfast, they were all ready to set off to the Parsonage; for even Aly and Robert sincerely regretted the absence of Mrs. Colton, for they had begun to love her dearly. Jemima was the only one whose affections and confidence the kind-hearted lady had not been able to win.

May I go to the Parsonage, Mary," said Emma, "and just speak to my dear Mrs. Colton?"

"If you will not stay very long," was Mary's answer.

"And I will go with you," said William, "and then I will tell you by my watch when you must come away. How much time will you give us, Mary?"

"Half an hour, Master William," she answered, "and that, I think, will be quite time enough; and I will stay in the churchyard with your sisters and brother under the shade of the large yew-tree."

"And I will sit inside the hollow tree," exclaimed Robert, "and then I shall look like an owl."

"But Aly go see Mrs. Colton," said the little one, "Aly go see dear Mrs. ColtonAly love Mrs. Colton."

Emma and William tried to persuade the child to remain with Mary; but the tears rose in her gentle eyes, and her under lip trembled as she kept repeating, "Aly love Mrs. Colton-Aly go see Mrs. Colton."

"Then Aly shall see Mrs. Colton," said William at last, kissing his little sister, "but Aly must not talk much; for Emma wants