me that I never he'erd the true story until now. Whatever it is,
_your_ religion suits me, if you will jest show me the way. I'm gwine
down, honey, to the valley and shadow of death, and the way'll be
mighty dark without the help of the Lord."

"He will be your guide and staff, Aunt Mabel, when the dark hour
comes," said May, dashing a tear from her cheek. "But I must go away
now, and I want you to think a great deal about Almighty God, until I
come again; then tell me if you think His word and promise are worthy
of belief. Turn it over in your mind; view it in every way, and let me
hear the result. I see your grandchild coming with a bundle of
faggots; here is a little change to buy something--tea, or whatever you
want."

"Good by, missis. Lord bless you and reward you." But May was out of
the cot, going at full speed towards home, which was not very far
distant.

Mr. Stillinghast had purchased the house some thirty years before, when
it stood three quarters of a mile from the city. It was then a villa,
and had been built by a French refugee, who, in those days of courtly
customs, was famed for his elegant hospitality. One of the old
noblesse, and but little acquainted with the practical management of
business affairs, he became embarrassed, and was finally compelled to
dispose of his elegant house and furniture, and retire to a life of
obscurity and poverty. But the city was growing around it rapidly; in
a few more years it would be hemmed in and walled around by streets and
houses. Mr. Stillinghast fretted and chafed; then calculated its
increased value, and grew almost savage at the idea that he would be
dead and forgotten when heaps of gold would be paid down for the few