Thus reads our n.o.ble paraphrase--and thus reads the providence of G.o.d.

This it was we sang that day; and this all broken hearts shall one day sing, when life's long twilight breaks.

After the congregation had dispersed, I saw Margaret lead her mother to the pew. It was beautiful, my wife's gentle grace to the timid stranger, for Margaret received of her mother whatever of that gift she hath--and I have always said her mother's is the rarer of the two. I heard her bid her new-found friend to the manse, and I echoed the mandate to the man beside me, his head still bowed in prayer.

The elders retired in a body to the vestry, there to be dismissed by the benediction, which I p.r.o.nounced upon them, the triune blessing of the triune G.o.d. Usually, they lingered for a little subdued conversation, but this day they went out with unwonted speed, each grasping the hands of the old elder and the new, and each without a word.

In a moment I saw their purpose, and went out along with them, leaving those twain together, the father and the son. We heard no word; but we knew the best robe, and the ring, and the shoes, were there, and that G.o.d would dispense them in sacramental love.

It was not long till they came out again, life's fragrance about them as they came. I had lingered in the church.

"Just wait a minute," I said as they came in, "I left my notes in the vestry and I will be back immediately."

I had hardly reached the room when a light footfall was heard behind me.

It was my daughter.

"Margaret! Is this you? I thought you had gone home. Where is your mother?" Lovely was her face and beautiful the light of joy upon it.

She did not seem to hear, but came straight on, and in a moment her arms were about my neck, and the brave heart told all its story in tears of utter gladness.

"Daughter mine," I whispered, "you will forgive"--but the gentle hand stopped the words.

"Where is your mother?" I asked again.

"Gone to the manse--they went together," and the sun shone through the rain--"I waited for you."

"Wait a moment," I said, "stay here a moment,"--for I knew the ways of love.

I hurried without, and in the church I found the two men lingering for me.

"Mr. Blake, we will walk down to the manse together--Margaret is waiting for you in my room, Angus."

No maiden's fluttering form betrays the soul of love as doth a strong man's face. Ah me! as I looked on Angus's in that moment, I knew to whom my child belonged the most. But the broken emblems of Another's lay before me, and I made the lesser sacrifice with joy.

I watched his eager step, nor did he seek to control its pace. Swiftly he walked, and I could not forbear to follow with my eyes till he stood before the door.

A moment he paused, I know not why--then he slowly entered and the door was shut.

_Doctor Luke of The Labrador_

BY NORMAN DUNCAN

"Mr. Duncan is deserving of much praise for this, his first novel.... In his descriptive pa.s.sages Mr. Duncan is sincere to the smallest detail. His characters are painted in with bold, wide strokes.... Unlike most first novels, 'Doctor Luke' waxes stronger as it progresses."--_N. Y. Evening Post._

_James MacArthur, of Harper's Weekly, says_: "I am delighted with 'Doctor Luke.' So fine and n.o.ble a work deserves great success."

"A masterpiece of sentiment and humorous characterization. Nothing more individual, and in its own way more powerful, has been done in American fiction.... The story is a work of art."--_The Congregationalist._

_Joseph B. Gilder, of The Critic, says_: "I look to see it take its place promptly among the best selling books of the season."

"It fulfills its promise of being one of the best stories of the season. Mr. Duncan evidently is destined to make a name for himself among the foremost novelists of his day.... Doctor Luke is a magnetic character, and the love story in which he plays his part is a sweet and pleasant idyl.... The triumph of the book is its character delineation."--_Chicago Record-Herald._

_Miss Bacon, Literary Editor of The Booklover's Library, says_: "Of all the stories I have read this Autumn there is none that I would rather own."

"Norman Duncan's novel is a great enterprise, and will probably prove to be the greatest book yet produced by a native of Canada."--_Toronto Globe._

_Denizens of the Deep_

_By_ FRANK T. BULLEN

There is a new world of life and intelligence opened to our knowledge in Mr. Bullen's stories of the inhabitants of the sea. He finds the same fascinating interest in the lives of the dwellers in the deep as Thompson Seton found in the lives of the hunted ash.o.r.e, and with the keenness and vigor which characterized his famous book "The Cruise of The Cachalot" he has made a book which, being based upon personal observation, b.u.t.tressed by scientific facts and decorated by imagination, is a storehouse of information--an ideal romance of deep sea folk and, as _The Sat.u.r.day Times-Review_ has said, worth a dozen novels.

[Ill.u.s.tration: DENIZENS OF THE DEEP. FRANK T. BULLEN.]

Not the least attractive feature of an unusually attractive volume is the series of ill.u.s.trations by Livingston Bull and others.

_By_ MARGARET SANGSTER

_Janet Ward_

_Eleanor Lee_

Without exaggeration and with perfectly consistent naturalness Mrs.

Sangster has produced two pieces of realism of a most healthy sort, demonstrating conclusively that novels may be at once clean and wholesome yet most thoroughly alive and natural. As with all her work, Mrs. Sangster exhibits her splendid skill and excellent taste, and succeeds in winning and holding her readers in these two books which treat of the life of today.

"If ever there was an author whose personality shone through her work, Mrs. Margaret E. Sangster is that author. Mrs. Sangster has written a novel with a moral purpose. That was to be expected, but it was also to be expected that the story would be free from hysteria and intolerance, filled with gentle humor, sane common sense and warm human sympathy, and saturated with cheerful optimism. The book fulfills the expectation."--_The Lamp._

[Ill.u.s.tration: JANET WARD BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.]

_Essays_ _Fiction_