heart of any child. How different had been the home of Arthur and Katie Melville. Three months ago their father was an opulent merchant; but now, through the dishonesty of a partner, and the loss of a ship which belonged to Mr. Melville, they were thus reduced. Too proud to ask relief from any of his relations, the unhappy man sought to hide with his two children from the eyes of his fellow-men, and, leaving the little ones to take care of themselves, passed whole days at the gaming-table, sometimes winning, sometimes losing; but more frequently the latter. Arthur was much like his father, both in disposition and feature, save that in the boy the brow was more fully developed, and the eyes clearer and more brilliant. Still, when, as now, the expression of scorn dwelt on the fair childish features, the resemblance became very vivid. Little Katie, or Katherina, as she was rightly called, differed greatly from her brother: gentle, affectionate, and sweet-tempered, she was a child to be loved. Never did contempt reign on that pure face, never did those little lips utter a harsh word. In the days of their prosperity Katie Melville had been the pet of the numerous visitors who frequented her home, and many and sincere were the regrets that she had so completely disappeared after her father's failure.

In a few minutes Arthur again broke the silence by saying, "I think papa might get money from somewhere; I don't believe in being starved."

“Oh, Artie, you know he is trying to obtain employment; I am sure he does not want to starve us," said the little girl.

"I don't know so much about that," replied he, in a very decided tone, "all I know is that he is greatly altered for the worse. Only last night, when he came in, I said, 'How late you are, papa;' two months ago he would have answered me at least kindly, but then he said, 'Get out of my way, you young dog, you are nothing but trouble to me to get bread for you, and now actually dare to question me.' You know yourself, Kate, that he went out again directly, and that neither of us have seen him since, though it is twenty minutes to eleven." Then, dropping his voice to a whisper, he continued, “I am quite sure, sister, that he had been drinking brandy." The little girl recoiled in horror, and exclaimed, "Oh, Artie!"

At this juncture, steps were heard ascending the stairs, and a sharp rap came at the door. Arthur opened it, and a stout, rosy-cheeked woman was revealed standing in the aperture, clad in a clean print gown and spotlessly-white apron. After glancing round the desolate apartment, she enquired, "Are you the children of Mr. Richard Melville ?"

"We are," was the answer of both.

"Then if you wants to see your father alive again, you must follow me, and be quick; put your cap on," she continued to Arthur, "and don't stand there staring at me; I means what I says, to be sure I does; I'm a respectable person, and my name is Sally Lamb, if ye would like to know."

With this piece of gratuitous information, she strode down the broken staircase, and out into the street, the

wondering children following her with wildly - beating hearts, and awe-stricken faces. Poor little things! the knowledge of impending misfortune pressed heavily upon them, though as yet they were ignorant of its extent or nature. The woman's pace proved to be anything but a snail's gallop, and after rapidly threading the crowded streets, they found themselves at the hospital, where they were ushered into a room. The blinds were down, so as to partially exclude daylight, and on a narrow bed someone lay moaning with pain. Pale, deathlike, his temples bandaged with linen, and his waving dark hair closely shorn, few but his own little ones would have recognized the once-handsome Richard Melville. They, however, never hesitated an instant; but rushing forward, sobbed, “Oh, papa! dear papa! what is the matter?" The wounded man endeavonred to raise himself, but the effort was too much for his feeble strength, and uttering the words, "Lord, help ," he fell back and expired. The children clung to his hands, clasped his lifeless form, and implored him to speak to them, but in vain.

66

'He cannot speak to you, dear children; he is dead," said Dr. Leslie, the kind-hearted hospital surgeon. "It is of no use calling upon him to awake, for that he will never more do in this world; his head was injured by a fall, and he could not live."

The good man sighed as he spoke, and knowing that for them to be allowed to continue in the chamber of death would be also useless, and possibly injurious to their youthful minds, continued, "Tell me, was Mr. Richard Melville your father?

"Yes, Sir," said Arthur, poor little Katie being too full of grief to return any answer.

"Then how is it I see you thus ?

66

My father's ship was lost at sea, with all her cargo, and we were sold up to pay the creditors," replied the boy, the old haughty look returning to his face, as he stood erect and dignified before the surgeon.

66

I never heard of it; but no wonder, for I only came back a few days ago, from the continent. Where are you at present living?

"In an attic in Swan's Court," answered Arthur, a burning blush mounting even to the roots of his dark hair. Dr. Leslie started, and looked almost incredulous, but observing the pained look on Arthur's face said, "Have you no friends, dear child? because if you have not

66

Papa would not ask for assistance from anyone,' broke in Arthur, hastily. “We came here, where no one knows us, and he tried to get employment, but," and not knowing what to say, the boy faltered, and stopped short. The kind surgeon took no notice of his very evident confusion, but, after a moment's pause, seized a hand of each child, "You shall come with me," he said, "until we can arrange matters, and see what is to be done."

"I should like to work for my own living," said the boy, proudly.

"You work; why what would you do? How old are you, my dear?"

"Surely I could do something, other boys of my age work. I was nine last March, and I am strong."

The surgeon regarded him sadly, and then, turning to Katie, whispered, "You will come, will you not, little one? I am a lonely old bachelor, with but a housekeeper and a maid-servant for company, so you will be very welcome." The child nestled her little golden head on his shoulder and said, "Yes," in the softest of soft voices, Arthur could no longer resist, so, gazing up into the doctor's face, said, "I thank you for your kindness, Dr. Leslie; I hope we shall not be a trouble to you."

"Don't talk of trouble, my dear, we won't discuss that subject at all. Now come along with me."

So saying, he led the little ones from the hospital out into the busy city. The rain had ceased, and the sun's bright beams were now shining forth with some degree of warmth, for it was the latter part of April, that pleasant time when the sweet Spring in all its youthful beauty and freshness renders the face of Nature a delight to gaze upon and revel in. How like is this season to youth in its first snowy purity, its exquisite lily-hued grace, its unsullied innocence, when no taint of evil has as yet soiled the fair but often, alas, fleeting beauty. Who would not wish to preserve this charm, who would not love, and strive to become possessed of it, this rare and priceless purity of heart, but too often undervalued, and, when once lost, never regained?

The streets were crowded, as a fair was being held in the city, and a motley multitude thronged all the available space. The shops were gaily decked, and inside, the busy shopmen looked as though they had not a moment to spare from waiting upon those who had come to buy.