noticing the wonderful changes a week had wrought in his appearance.
Not only did his countenance bear traces of the illness and exhaustion
that might not unnaturally be expected in such a case of bereavement,
but it faithfully reflected the change that had taken place in his
mental attitude. His eyes had lost the frank boldness that had made
them very pleasing to some people, they looked scared; the mouth too
was rendered conspicuous by the absence of the firm lines that once
gave it character; indeed the man's whole appearance was pitiful and
almost abject.

"I am afraid," he said at length, in a tone of gentle compassion,
"that you must have suffered a great deal, Caresfoot."

"Suffered! I have suffered the tortures of the damned! I still suffer
them, I shall always suffer them."

"I do not wish," said the clergyman, with a little hesitation, "to
appear officious or to make a mockery of your grief by telling you
that it is for your good; but I should fail in my duty if I did not
point out to you that He who strikes the blow has the power to heal
the wound, and that very often such things are for our ultimate
benefit, either in this world or the next. Carry your troubles to Him,
my dear fellow, acknowledge His hand, and, if you know in your heart
of any way in which you have sinned, offer Him your hearty repentance;
do this, and you will not be deserted. Your life, that now seems to
you nothing but ashes, may yet be both a happy and a useful one."

Philip smiled bitterly as he answered--

"You talk to me of repentance--how can I repent when Providence has