At last they reached the bridge; and they had no sooner done so, than they saw distinctly the figure of Mr. Merton on the cliff above, surrounded by a number of men carrying torches; and he was waving a handkerchief to them to encourage their exertions. Soon two men descended; one bore a torch; and the other, as soon as he reached the ascending party, took Agnes in his arms, and Mrs. Merton had soon the happiness of seeing her darling child safe by her father's side. Mrs. Merton now felt new strength, and in a short time she reached the summit of the cliff herself. The men who were assembled round Mr. Merton waited a moment to see she was safe, and then hurried down the rocks to bring up the body of the young Londoner-the rapidity of their descent being marked by their torches, which appeared to slide down the different cliffs. The Mertons did not stay to witness the result of their labours, but hastened to the inn; and when Mrs. Merton and Agnes offered up their evening prayers, they did not forget to add a fervent thanksgiving for the mercy that had saved them from a dreadful catastrophe similar to that they had beheld.

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CHAPTER VI.

Management in Household affairs. - Undercliffe.-Alexandri an pillar.—Light-house of St. Catherine.-Little Church of St. Lawrence. Churchyard.-St. Lawrence's Well.-Ventnor.— Wishing Well, and Godshill.-Beautiful Butterflies.-Pulpit Stone.-St. Boniface.-Arrival at Shanklin.

THE night at Black Gang Chine was dreadful; the rain came down in torrents; and the wind rushed by in such furious gusts that the slight fancy building they were in shook to its foundation. The Mertons had a double-bedded room but none of them slept much; and once, when the house absolutely rocked, from the violence of the wind, Mrs. Merton rose, and throwing a dressing-gown round her, she knelt by the side of Agnes's little bed, and took the poor child's cold and trembling hand in her own, till Agnes, soothed and comforted by the pressure of her mother's hand, at last fell asleep.

Mrs. Merton, herself, however, could not sleep, and she lay counting the tedious hours till the break of day, when she arose weary and unrefreshed.

The morning was extremely beautiful; and even the dark and gloomy hills of the Chine looked less fearful in the bright rays of the early sun. Mrs. Merton dressed herself, and was just going down stairs, when Agnes woke and begged her to wait a moment. Mrs. Merton consented, and the little girl having dressed herself as quickly and as noiselessly as she could, they went down to the room in which they had sat the night before; one of the windows was open, but Agnes had no longer any pleasure in running out under the veranda; and she shuddered at the sight of the rocks, though the sea, which curled gently round them, at a depth of above five hundred feet below the situation of the inn, was now as smooth as glass. She could not even pat the black dog she had been so fond of the day before, and she sat on the sofa with her back to the window, while Mrs. Merton rang the bell to ask the waiter what had become of the sufferers of the night before. The account was unfavourable. The young fisherman was dead; and the Londoner, though

alive, lay in a very enfeebled state, and his complete recovery was considered doubtful. Even the poor dog appeared to have sustained some severe internal injury, for it had refused its food, and seemed in great pain. A doctor had been sent for from Niton; but the young man had not yet been able to speak to tell where they could write to his friends. Neither Mrs. Merton nor Agnes felt inclined to walk out before breakfast; though, previously to their unfortunate visit to the Chine, they had intended to visit the medicinal spring, and to taste some of its nauseous waters. Now, however, they were only anxious to quit the place; and they were quite delighted to see Mr. Merton walk into the room a few minutes after they had finished their enquiries. Breakfast was immediately ordered, but not so easily obtained-first, there was no milk, and next the butter had to be sent for; then the cook had boiled only one egg, and the others had to be waited for ;-till, with all this waiting and sending, the coffee became cold, and all the comfort of the breakfast was destroyed. To complete the whole, the waiter, who was a most respectable-looking person, and had the air of an old soldier, appeared so anxious to oblige them that it

was impossible to scold him; and even the landlady was so civil, and so sorry for the delay, that nobody could blame her.

“What an uncomfortable breakfast!” cried Agnes, when they rose from table.

"And yet everything was good of its kind," said Mrs. Merton.

"But something must have been wrong," said Agnes; "for I never saw so much trouble in getting a breakfast before; and yet we had nothing different to what we have in general. What can have been wanting?"

"Management and arrangement," said Mrs. Merton. "When I ordered breakfast, the waiter ought to have told me that there was neither milk nor butter in the house; and we should then have waited till all was ready, before we sat down, and our coffee would not have been made till it was wanted. Remember, Agnes, if ever you should have to act as a housekeeper, that you can never make a family comfortable unless you exercise your forethought and judgment, so as to provide every thing that is likely to be wanted beforehand. I do not mean to recommend you to have a profusion of anything; for it