ter long years-Settled at Wilton-

ern home to pay a visit to her uncle, the old village-pastor; the bridegroom, a stout sailor, home from sea for a short while at his native village. And aft

rth for her in one of the ordinary passenger steamers that run from Southampton to the island. And after seeing her safe on board one rainy April afternoon, her tearful face itself like April weather,

miles of heaving sea; Minnie, pale and trembling in her little cabin, with the noise of the waters ever soun

tage that overlooked the bay, where the good ship "Thunderer" lay at anchor; and there, at her outhanging window, every evening Minnie would

n autumn; and when the year's late last months were come, there was another inmate in the little cottage by the bay; another

r many such changes of abode, and many voyages over the dangerous waters, twelve years from the date of their marriage, they came to Wilton. They found lodgings at Mrs Valentine's farm, near the old church-a strange contrast after the home on the blue waters of the Mediterranean, but a very nice contrast withal. And it seemed, at last, as i

are and watching, might be spared. So he took rooms at the farm for a length of time; sent his boy, now grown into a young image of his stout father,

doubt and anxiety that for long had been hangi

He learnt the cause. She had been sitting with a sick person, and from the ho

it was with an open letter in his hand, with which his fingers nervously played. It was marked "On Her Majesty's Service." He mus

most. You will have to bid her good-bye for ever when

is face was very pale, and a gre

I pity you from my heart." And then he jolted away down t

the farm, and was soo

and this is why that good-bye was so unutterably s