for answer.

"Well, I am content to be sitting here. I doubt I shall do little else
for the rest of my life. I must be a useless body, I'm afraid," added
she, with a sigh.

Mr Snow smiled.

"You know better than that," said he. "I don't suppose it seems much to
you to get back again; but it is a great deal for the rest of us to have
you, if it is only to look at."

"I am content to bide my time, useless or useful, as God wills," said
his wife, gravely:

"I was willing you should go--yes, I do think I was willing you should
go. It was the seeing you suffer that seemed to take the strength out
of me," said he, with a shudder. "It makes me kind of sick to think
about it," added he, rising and moving about. "I believe I was willing,
but I am dreadful glad to see you sitting there."

"I am glad to be here, since it is God's will. It is a wonderful thing
to stand on the very brink of the river of death, and then to turn back
again. I think the world can never look quite the same to eyes that
have looked beyond it to the other side. But I am content to be here,
and to serve Him, whether it be by working or by waiting."

"On the very brink," repeated Mr Snow, musingly. "Well, it _did_ look
like that, one while. I wonder if I was really willing to have you go.
It don't seem now as if I could have been--being so glad as I am that
you did not go, and so thankful."

"I don't think the gladness contradicts the willingness; and knowing you
as I do, and myself as well, I wonder less at the willingness than at
the gladness."

This needed further consideration, it seemed, for Mr Snow did not
answer, but sat musing, with his eyes fixed on the distant hills, till
Mrs Snow spoke again.

"I thought at first, when the worst was over, it was only a respite from
pain before the end; but, to-day, I feel as if my life was really coming
back to me, and I am more glad to live than I have been any day yet."

Mr Snow cleared his throat, and nodded his head a great many times. It
was not easy for him to speak at the moment.

"If it were only May, now, instead of September! You always did find
our winters hard; and it is pretty tough being hived up so many months
of the year. I do dread the winter for you."

"Maybe it winna be so hard on me. We must make the best of it anyway.
I am thankful for ease from pain. That is much."

"Yes," said Mr Snow, with the shudder that always came with the
remembrance of his wife's suf