the worldly atmosphere of their home, the worldly example set them by their parents, and the worldly maxims and precepts constantly instilled into their young minds. From these, they learned to look upon the riches, honors and pleasures of earth as the things to be most earnestly coveted, most worthy of untiring efforts to secure. Life at the Crags was a strange puzzle to the Ion children: no blessing asked at the table, no gathering of the family morning or evening for prayer or praise or the reading of God's word. "Mamma, what does it mean?" they asked; "why doesn't Uncle Ross do as papa does?" Elsie scarce knew how to answer them. "Don't let us talk about it, dears," she said: "but whatever others may do, let us serve God ourselves and seek his favor above everything else; for 'in his favor is life' and his loving kindness is better than life." CHAPTER EIGHTH. "To each his sufferings: all are men Condemn'd alike to groan; The tender for another's pain, The unfeeling for his own." —GRAY. "To each his sufferings: all are men Condemn'd alike to groan; The tender for another's pain, The unfeeling for his own." —GRAY. The weather was delightful: because of Phil's return the children were excused altogether from lessons and nearly every day was taken up with picnics, riding, driving and boating excursions up and down the river. They were never allowed to go alone on the water or behind any horse but "Old Nan," an old slow moving creature that Phil said "could not be persuaded or forced out of a quiet even trot that was little better than a walk, for five consecutive minutes." The mothers were generally of the party;—Lily continuing so much better that Elsie could leave her, without anxiety, in the faithful care of her old mammy—and always one or two trusty servants were taken along. One day Philip got permission to take old Nan and the phaeton and drive out with the two older girls, Gertrude and Elsie.