"MY DEAR LITTLE FAN,-Your uncle By MRS. G. S. REAN?, Author of "Waking and CHATER I. "But heard ar the voices, Heard are he sages, The works ad the ages Choose we: your choice is Brief and ye endless." SHE sat by the oen window, her head resting upon her hand, her eyes bent upon the ground. She had sat thus for at least an hour. Wthout, all was calm and beautiful in the solemn hush of a September afternoon; but within Helen Lenton's heart there was tumult and unrest. She was beginning to discover that the pleasures and joys of earth are but broken cisterns; they cannot satisfy. She knew not where to turn for true and lasting peace. But already her heart-yearning was the earnest of brighter days not far distant. "If what Annie Graham said, be true, my life is a failure! Argue it out as I will, I shall never be able to make wrong come right. If it be wrong-but that is the question!" * "Helen, dear, I have found you at last! I have been hunting the house through for the last two minutes and three-quarters, to keep within the limits of the truth." And Fanny Galton, a bright-faced girl of sixteen Helen's face lighted up as she read the Helen was much quieter, but quite as Mrs. Lenton saw no objection, and Dr. apt to think too much sometimes; this would be just what was wanted. And Helen? Alone in her own room that night she took down her little Bible from the shelf, and sought the text, "I set before you life and death, blessing and cursing: therefore choose life." "Why will Annie Graham always quote that verse to me?" she mused. "Life and death-blessing and cursing, and it is for us to choose! Well, suppose we choose neither, but just drift any way? But there, Annie will have it that not to be definite in our choice of life and blessing means death and cursing; we cannot be, she says, between the two. Well, I am sure I do not choose death, but still, I am sure I have not chosen life!" Helen fell on her knees, but she could not pray. Her thoughts wandered off to Hastings, to the parade, and the pretty walks and drives. In a few minutes Helen was fast asleep in her bed, dreaming of Annie Graham, and fancying herself on the Castle Hill at Hastings, deciding some very difficult question. She awoke in the morning unrefreshed, and the first distinct thoughts which came to her mind were those words of Goethe's "Choose well: your choice is "Jesus! seek Thy wandering sheep, Bear me on Thy bosom, bear." By and by, the old sailor, who had shown so much kind attention to "the invalid lady and her merry Miss daughter," (as he persisted in calling Mrs. Trafford and Fanny), came up to Helen and said respectfully, You're not over fond of the sea, Miss, or maybe you would enjoy a gentle row this morning. 66 Helen smiled at old Sam, as she shook her head. Then she said quietly "I love the sea to look at it, and listen to it, and to talk to it sometimes; but I do not care to go upon it. You sailors who live by the sea, and by what you get on, or out of it, cannot understand what it means to us who only come sometimes within sight and sound of it. Now tell me, Sam, what the sea means to you?" and Helen looked up inquiringly into the old sailor's face. Sam smiled-at least the corners of his mouth smiled-then he said slowly, folding his arms and standing very erect "At one time of life, the sea meant pounds, shillings, and pence to me, this and nothing more nor less; but that time is a time which belongs to bygones. The sea means something vastly different to me to-day. But then you see I've changed my eyes since those days." 66 'Changed your eyes?" said Helen, astonished; old Sam amused her by his |