“O, Alfred,” the almost heart-broken creature, said—­as she bent forward, and leaned her head upon his bosom—­“Heaven be praised, if you are really and truly in earnest in what you say!”

“I am most solemnly in earnest, dear sister!” the young man said, with fervency and emphasis.  “Since I saw you this morning, I have signed my name to the total abstinence pledge, and I will die before that pledge shall be broken!  And that is not all.  I met Charles Williams immediately after that act, and have had a long interview with him.  He confessed to me that he had often felt that he was much to blame for having first introduced me into dissipated company, and that he now desired to aid me in reforming and assisting my mother and sisters, if I would only try and abandon my past evil courses.  I responded most gladly to his generous interest, and he then told me, that if I would enter his and his father’s store as a clerk, he would make my salary at once a thousand dollars per annum.  Of course I assented to the arrangement with thankfulness.  Dear mother!  Dear sisters!  There is yet, I trust, a brighter day in store for you.”

“May our Heavenly Father cause these good resolutions to abide for ever, my son!” Mrs. Graham, who had followed her children up stairs, said, with tearful earnestness.

“He will cause them to abide, mother, I know that he, will,” Alfred replied.

Just at that moment some one entered below—­immediately after quick feet ascended the stairs, and Ellen bounded into the room.

“O, I have such good news to tell!” she exclaimed, panting for breath as she entered.  “My husband has joined the reformers!  I felt so glad that I had to run over and let you know.  O, aint it good news, indeed!” And the poor creature clapped her hands together in an ecstacy of delight.

“It is truly good news, my child,” Mrs. Graham said, as she drew her arm about the neck of Ellen.  “And we too have glad tidings.  Alfred has joined them also, and has got a situation at a thousand dollars a year.”

Ellen, who had always loved her brother, tenderly, notwithstanding his vile habit of life, turned quickly towards him, and flinging her arms about his neck, said while the tears gushed from her eyes,

“Dear brother!  I have never wholly despaired of this hour.  Truly, my cup of joy is full and running over!”

It was about eleven o’clock on the next day, as Mary and her mother sat conversing by the side of the bed upon which lay Anna, now too ill to sit up, that a knock was heard below.  Mrs. Graham went down and opened the door, when an elegantly dressed lady entered, calling her by name as she did so, at the same time asking for Anna and Mary.

She was shown up stairs by the mother, who did not recognise her, although both voice and face seemed familiar.  On entering the chamber, Mary turned to her and exclaimed—­

“Mary Williams!  Is it possible!”