than she could teach him. He had taken her advice, had read the Bible, and now was humbly endeavouring to obey its commands; and in conformity to his sister's entreaty, not to misspend his days of health, scarcely a day was now permitted to pass without his doing something for the good of his fellow-creatures. He always told the poor that he was come on a message from his sister, lest they should be inclined to be grateful to him, and make him blush, as the sick girl had done. Some questioned, however, whether Miss Crawford told him always to add a franc or two to the gift which she sent; or whether Miss Crawford dictated to him all the "kind words" which now made him so welcome a visitor; and when the old blind man complained of having no one to read to him, and Captain Crawford took the Bible and read him "_deux superbes chapitres_," he was quite sure that Miss Crawford had nothing at all to do with it. His present visit to Mary's grandmother was to tell her that ten pounds had been collected the Sunday before for the new church; and that as some handsome contributions had been since received, he hoped she would soon see it finished. Mary ran away as soon as she had let him in, and soon came back with cheeks as red as fire, eyes cast down, and something clasped very tight in her hand, looking altogether much more like a thief than the good, honest little Mary that she was. But when Captain Crawford got up to go away, she went to him, and as he stooped to hear what she had to say, she repeated very quick, in a very low voice, the little speech she had prepared in her best English: "Please to give dat to Miss Crawford, to go for the new church dat's being builded." Happy Mary! how full of love that little heart was! how it rejoiced in giving pleasure! and how she did wish that she was rich, that she might make everybody comfortable! "Here is a contribution to the church, my little one," said Edward, when he reached home, "which I think you will agree with me is worth more than all the five-pound notes we have received. Sixpence from Mary Falla!" "Dear little Mary! Put it into the church-bag, Edward. If our church could be all built with such sixpences as those--" And in the church-bag we must leave the Sixpence, resting a little while before it goes forth again on its errands of joy and sorrow, of blessing and cursing. There was a little stone in the church-tower far more precious than all the rest. It was not a cut stone; it did not sparkle in the bright sun which shone on the consecration-day; none of the colours of the ruby, emerald, or amethyst, beamed from it; it was a richer gem than they--the gift of a willing