d to comfort,--there had
her hand been taught to clasp the rod and staff, that had led her safe
through the shadow, well-nigh of death. How would her heart have fainted
if she could have guessed what had awaited her! But these things were
past, and their memory was sweetened by thankfulness. And now, where
once stood the self-torturing, pining girl, was now the calm trustful
woman,--serene beneath the overshadowing Wings, resting on the
everlasting Arms,--relying, least of all, upon herself. Further trouble
might be in store; the clouds might return after the rain; but her peace
was not mere freedom from storms, it was the security that there was One
who would be with her and her loved ones through all, and thus could she
freely rejoice in present sunshine, without scanning each distant cloud,
or marring present bliss by future dread.

It was complete gladness. There was not a misgiving whether home might
be exactly as it stood in her memory, or in Johnnie's imagination; and
she filled the children's heads so much with what they were to see, that
their papa declared he had found Annie under the belief that Helvellyn
was her grandfather.

Arthur was so much charmed with seeing his wife so happy, that,
forgetting all his fears of tediousness, he partook the enjoyment of her
anticipations. He was the first, when they came in sight of a mountain,
to lift Johnnie on his knee and tell him it was Helvellyn; and mamma's
resentment at the grievous error was one of the prettiest and merriest
things imaginable.

However, when Helvellyn actually appeared, and she felt herself really
coming home, she was silent, in anxiety and doubt. She must be very
different from the Violet who had gone away. Would her mother and
Matilda think she had improved according to her opportunities?

She could hardly reply when Arthur recognized the High-street, so much
wider in her imagination, and her heart beat as the garden wall and the
lawn were before her. At the door--yes!--it was, it was the mother for
whose embrace, she had so often longed! Timidly affectionate and hastily
nervous, she could hardly afford one moment to her daughter in her
frightened haste to greet her son-in-law, before he was ready, as he
was lifting the children out. Here, too, were Annette and Mr. Moss,
the young ladies were in the drawing-room, detained by etiquettes of
Matilda's; but Violet hardly knew who spoke to her, the joy was to see a
baby of hers at last in her mo