raised his thoughts from the heavy cares of life to the buoyant hopes of
immortality. Hitherto, Roger had owed half his meek contentedness to
those sweet lessons from a daughter's lips, and knew that he was
reaping, as he heard, the harvest of his own paternal care, and
heaven-blest instructions. However, upon this dark morning, he was full
of other thoughts, murmurings, and doubts, and poverty, and riches. So,
when Grace, after her usual affectionate salutations, gently began to
read,

"The sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with
the glory--"

Her father strangely stopped her on a sudden with--

"Enough, enough, my girl! God wot, the sufferings are grievous, and the
glory long a-coming."

Then he heavily went down stairs, and left Grace crying.




CHAPTER III.

THE CONTRAST.


THUS, full of carking care, while he pushed aside the proffered
consolation, Roger Acton walked abroad. There was yet but a glimmer of
faint light, and the twittering of birds told more assuringly of morning