HARRY'S LESSONS AND A CHANGE OF SCENE.

THE packing was going on briskly, amidst Mrs. Dinah's mischievous lamentations and insinuations, and Harry was taking his farewell of his favourite haunts, when a visitor was announced, demanding an interview with Myra.

"Oh, Myra!" cried Harry, rushing into the library, where she sat writing. "Here's somebody wants you, and yet you don't know any one about here. I am afraid it is one of those horrid people that papa owed money to."

"Hush, Harry! Do not speak so; it is very wrong, and you grieve me."

Myra looked up and saw that the "somebody" had been shown into the room, and must have overheard the boy's rude speech.

Harry was about to slink away, but a firm hand was laid upon his shoulder, and he was compelled to remain.

The visitor was a gentlemanly-looking man, beyond middle age, well dressed, and of upright, frank, and easy bearing, though the ungloved hand that grasped Harry's shoulder was like that of a man who had known something of manual labour.

"Madam," said he, "excuse this freedom, but I should like this young gentleman to hear what I have to say to you, if you will permit. I 'am,' unfortunately, one of those horrid people just described; the whole of the drawing-room furniture came now from my warehouse last summer. I do not for a moment suppose that Mr. Haynes did not wish and intend to pay for it, and, but for this young gentleman's sake, I would not have mentioned my share of the losses."

"He spoke thoughtlessly, sir; may I not beg you to pardon it?" said Myra, seeing Harry wriggling himself out of the hand that held him.

"I do freely pardon it, but let him learn better while he has opportunity."

"Harry dear, sit down quietly, and try to help me in all our difficulties; it comforts me, Harry, to have you near me," said Myra affectionately.

The boy looked in her truthful face, and sat down by her side, but he did not feel much mollified towards the peremptory visitor, who quickly hurried through his business.

"I come," he said, "from a meeting of the creditors, who have commissioned me with their sincere and respectful sympathy for the orphan family. They have heard also of you, madam, and in proof of their admiration and respect, they request that you will accept such of the useful articles of furniture as you may immediately need; the young people's beds, perhaps; also the contents of their study and playroom. There are two good pianos, one is to accompany you; and I shall send men to pack and remove the things wherever you desire them to be placed."

The good man looked anywhere rather than at the surprised young faces before him. He wanted no thanks; he, and they who acted with him, had reward enough in their own kind hearts.

"Dear sir," said Myra at last, "though deeply appreciating this unexpected and generous act, it is right that you should know exactly how we are situated. I have an income at my disposal which I trust will be sufficient for our reasonable wants; and would it be fair to subtract anything from those whose losses I fear must be very heavy?"

The visitor looked at her kindly, and then counted on his fingers deliberately.

"Five children to feed, clothe, educate,—two of them boys to be put out in life,—rent, taxes, servants, expenses that a young lady living as you have lived ought not to be denied. Excuse me, dear young lady, but you must agree to our little plan. It happens that I know more than you are aware. I was one of the witnesses to your good grandfather's will when he settled on you that which enables you now to help these children. I was doing some work for him, and was called into his study to see him sign his name. He gave me the first teaching that made me wish and strive to love and please God; and if I can do anything to serve you, I shall esteem it an honour."

Myra frankly put her hand into that large firm one which had held Harry, and felt its warm and kindly pressure as he continued:

"When your grandfather died, I heard all about the circumstances, and so it happens that I know what your resources are; and I understand enough of respectable housekeeping, and of the requirements of a family, to know that you will have nothing to spare. Yes, it must be as we have arranged. And now, young sir, may I ask how old you are?"

"Just thirteen," said Harry.

"Time to be about the business of a heavenly Father who has said what He will be to the orphan. You are too young to understand fully the state of things around you, but remember this,—and I say it in faithful kindness, hard as you may think it now,—remember if you would be independent, free, and happy, so far as your way through this life is concerned, you must shun debt. Never have anything that you do not know when and how you can pay for; and pay all before you take pleasure or indulgence. Peace of mind, and even life itself, may depend upon obedience to these rules. Let us shake hands, and may our Lord and Saviour bless and help you."

Harry gave his hand, and thought he should not forget.

"Sir," said he, "I am sorry for what I said about you, but I didn't know that you had the religion of Jesus, and I thought all the people must be angry and disagreeable who have—have—bills—that—"

"Never mind, my dear boy; you will not judge people another time until you know something about them. I am thinking, Miss Sherwood," he resumed to Myra, "that your things might go to one of my warerooms until you have settled where to put them. Would that save you any trouble?"

"Indeed it would," said Myra gratefully, for the kind thoughtfulness relieved her of a difficulty,—she not knowing yet where their future residence might be.

"God, our loving Father, who sees all you and your friends are doing, will reward you, sir," said she, as this real friend took his leave.

"And what for you?" he asked. "Our part is small and poor,—a mere nothing compared with yours."

"When we have done that which is our duty to do, we are but unprofitable servants," said Myra.

"Well, I can only hope if ever my children come to need a friend, some such unprofitable servant may care for them."

"He may be sure of that, Harry," said Myra cheerfully, as they looked after the good man down the walk. "It is written,—

"'With whatsoever measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.'

"Oh, Harry, shall we not be thankful for this generous consideration?"

"It would be a great deal better not to need it," said Harry.

"My dear brother, it is good for us to meet this kindness in people from whom we had no right to expect it. I am greatly pleased, for though I could buy the useful things, perhaps, I could not replace the valuable books on your shelves, nor the contents of your playroom. We must not be proud, Harry; perhaps some day it may please God to put it into your power to do a similar kindness to others."

"Is it pride? I wouldn't let you do all you are going to do if I could help it, only I don't see any way to help it; unless, indeed, you would let me go off to sea at once. They don't want much grand education, you know, at sea. Would you let me, Myra?"

"I could not consent to it, Harry. But if you are quite sure you cannot be happy with me, I will not hinder you, and I will ask Mr. Haynes to provide for this choice of your occupation in life in the best way possible."

"But if I go to sea at last, won't it be waste of time and money to keep me at school now?"

"We, that is, Mr. Haynes, Dr. and Mrs. Walker, and I, all think that in three or four years more you may not think as you do now. Four years of persevering study and opportunity to know your own mind will not be thrown away. What do you know of astronomy and magnetism?"

"Nothing at all," said Harry, staring at his sister.

"What of geography, the ocean, the tides?"

"Very little, I'm afraid."

"What of machinery, the engine, the laws of motion?"

"Nothing at all of any consequence."

"What foreign languages can you speak? Our ships, you know, are in the ports of all nations; and a sailor who can speak French, Spanish, Italian, German, one or all, has a great advantage over those who cannot."

"You are joking now, Myra. Sailors do not know all these things."

"It is very much to their advantage when they do, though. I fancy your idea of being a sailor is just climbing up and down the rigging, leaping with your good ship over the foaming billows, catching a shark perhaps, and wearing a blue jacket, and singing 'Britannia rules the waves.' Isn't it, now?"

Harry laughed, and felt that Myra really was a very wonderful person to know a boy's thoughts so well.

"But, Harry," she continued, more seriously, "whatever you decide to be, I want you to be the best of the kind. If you choose to be a sailor, you must aim at the highest rank and most responsible appointments; and therefore a good education is the starting-point. Go to school for two years more, without deciding what you will be, then another year or two with a special aim and suitable preparation. And if my brother Harry feels it burdensome to owe the means to his sister's love, Captain Sherwood can repay her at his leisure."

"Myra, Myra, you will always get your way," cried Harry, half laughing, half crying.

But Myra made it end in a hearty laugh, and so that affair was settled.

While the young party proceeded on their trip to Wales, Mr. Haynes and Dr. Walker undertook the selection of the school, and a suitable residence near it. And Mr. Haynes especially, in his earnest gratitude for the part Myra had chosen, was resolved to spare no trouble in making such arrangements as he thought would be acceptable.

Mrs. Walker's taste and counsels were put in requisition. And Myra, having stated her views concerning the simple style in which she wished to live, was quite content to trust to their discretion.

The pleasant change from the late scene of sorrow, mortification, and suspense, soon told upon the health and spirits of all the young party.

Myra would not take them to the sea, which would present such painful remembrances to their minds, and which they were accustomed to visit. But she chose a lovely inland village, surrounded by all kinds of accessible beauty and scenes of historic interest, and with the rich stores of information she had gathered, and the ample resources of a refined and highly cultivated mind, the pleasure and improvement of her companions were very effectually provided for.

The sight of some daring young trout in the river which wound through the valley inspired some of the young people with a fancy for fishing; and not fearing that their skill would greatly damage the happiness of the finny families, Myra one day indulged them by providing fishing tackle. And, with well-filled baskets of provisions, they sallied forth for the trout stream.

Feeling no particular interest in the result beyond the exercise and enjoyment of the children, who baited their hooks with paste and watched with delight every movement of the float, declaring that, if they caught nothing, they could count plenty of nibbles, Myra seated herself with a book under a shady bank, where she could safely allow little Elsie her share of the glee, with her fishing-rod extemporised out of a switch cut from the hedge, a piece of string, and a crooked pin.

Harry, declaring that the noise and laughter of the others hindered all possibility of success to any real fisherman, walked farther on, and after a great deal of patience, and considerable excitement over the hooking of a water weed, was throwing in his line again, when footsteps among the bushes and grass behind him caused him to look round.

A gentleman approached him, and, with an amused air, asked what success he had met with.

"None at all yet," said Harry, with dignity; "but I shall try another place, for I want to catch a good dish of trout for their tea."

"Is there an inn at the village?" asked the stranger, apparently wishing to prolong the conversation.

"Yes, but we are not staying there; we have a cottage to ourselves. It's very nice being here."

"I should think it is. May I presume to ask who the 'we' consist of?" asked the stranger, taking up a handsome pocket-knife which Harry had thrown upon the grass, and seeing the initials "H. S." engraved upon the handle.

"We!—Oh, my sisters and brother; we have only come for a week or two, because we are going to a new home."

"And your name is Sherwood, is it not?"

Harry looked up in surprise: How could the stranger know that?—Who could he be?

He was a tall, gentlemanly-looking young man, with a satchel at his back and a stout stick in his hand; and his broad fair brow, as he pushed back his Glengarry cap, and his frank pleasant smile as he offered his hand, prepossessed the young fisherman in his favour.

"I see I am right," he said; "and you and I must be friends, if you please. Will you introduce me to your brother and sisters?"

"Not till I know who you are," said Harry, with the air of a protector.

"Right, my young friend; here is my card. Miss Sherwood will know my name. I have just returned from Italy, and have some messages from her friends there."

"Oh, how glad Myra will be!" exclaimed Harry. "Wait till I wind up my line, and I'll find her for you. I left them about a quarter of a mile off, by the side of the stream. How funny that you should happen to find us out!"

The stranger gravely remarked that curious adventures often happen to travellers, and they walked away together.

Leonard was still devoted to his float, but the others were busy spreading out the feast, which Myra handed to them from the various little baskets.

As they came in sight of the pretty group, Harry bounded forward.

"Myra, sister Myra, here is a gentleman from Italy; here is his card—Ralph Penwald is the name—you'll have to give him some dinner; he may have my share if you haven't enough. And he has promised to tell me all about his ascent of Mont Blanc."

With very blooming cheeks, and some surprise, Myra came forward to receive the traveller. And with the young party, he was soon quite at home. There happened to be dinner enough, and he greatly added to the entertainment by the tact and grace with which he managed everybody and everything there was to do. For Myra, he had brought notes from her young cousins, and endless messages from Frank, protesting that he could not enjoy himself without her, and insisting that she should return as soon as she had settled about her brothers and sisters.

"But he cannot have her," cried Florence; "she has got a house, and we are all going to live with her."

Mr. Penwald was busy peeling an apple for Elsie, and made no reply. But, after a while, he asked Myra if she would trust him with the boys for a longer ramble in the afternoon than the rest of the party could take, and he would help them to accomplish their design of bringing fish for their tea.

"Oh yes, that will be capital!" cried Harry. "And you will give Mr. Penwald his tea, Myra. And if he is going to stay all night at the inn, wouldn't it be nice if he would come with us to the ruins to-morrow?"

"I am not fond of ruins, Master Harry," said Ralph; "I prefer building up just now."

"Oh, but you like to see a fine old castle, don't you? Myra does, and she has promised to take us to-morrow, if the day is fine, to the ruined castle of B—. Now, if you would come with us, Myra would have no fears for Leonard and me; and we could run about and scramble where girls can't, you know."

"If your sister permit, nothing could be more pleasant for me," said Mr. Penwald.

Myra could scarcely refuse, though she tried to put in some objection on the ground of intruding on Mr. Penwald's time. But the proposition was carried by acclamation.

The boys then begged to escort their new friend to the inn, to secure lodging for the night.

"How long are you going to stay?" asked they.

"It depends on circumstances," he said; "I shall certainly not go until we return from the castle."

The afternoon was spent delightfully to them; they brought fish and Mr. Penwald home to tea, and all was arranged for the excursion of the following day.

Harry had listened particularly to the conversation, and, after a happy evening, he accompanied Mr. Penwald to the inn, lingering in the soft twilight as if he wished to say something, and had not wrought up his courage to the point.

"Now I shall see you back again until your cottage is in sight," said Ralph; "lest your sister be uneasy."

"I would not make Myra unhappy for the world," said the boy; "she is first-rate. When she came, we didn't know how much we should love her."

"She is worthy of your love, my dear boy; she is a consistent follower of Him who came to manifest the God whose name is 'Love.'"

"Mr. Penwald, please, you won't think me rude, will you? I want to ask you, do you know the religion of Jesus?"

"Something of it, I trust, dear Harry," replied Mr. Penwald in surprise; "I hope you will know it too."

"Myra is teaching me," said the boy, with a last clasp of the hand he held, and was at the cottage in a few moments.

Mr. Penwald retired to read his evening chapter, and consider how much he really knew of the religion of Jesus, and if it were as practical and influential a reality as it ought to be.

Harry meanwhile determined to think over something which troubled his mind, but as soon as his head rested on the pillow, he knew nothing more till morning.