ception
grew on her, that not only was it a duty to strive for contentment, but
that to look on all trials as crosses to be borne daily, was the only
way to obtain it.

Helen's many homely trials and petty difficulties were what came to
her chiefly as examples and encouragements, and she began to make
resolutions on her own account.

Yet, one day, when Arthur was expected and did not come, she conjured
up so many alarms, that it was well that consideration for her companion
obliged her to let him divert her mind.

The next day John led her to the beach, and set her to find rare
sea-weeds for his mother. The charm of the pursuit, the curling tide,
the occasional peeps at Johnnie as he was paraded, serene and sleepy,
in Sarah's arms, made time speed so fast that she was taken by surprise
when voices hailed them, and she beheld Arthur and his father.

No wedding-day being in the case, Arthur had gladly put off his coming
on a proposal from his father to accompany him, see John's menage, and
be introduced to his grandson.

Much more warmly than in former times did Lord Martindale greet his
daughter-in-law, and quickly he asked for the baby. In spite of the
doctor's prognostications, the little fellow had begun to mend, and he
looked his best, nearly hidden in hood and mantle, and embellished by
his mother's happy face, as she held him in her arms, rejoicing in the
welcome bestowed on the first grandson.

Violet had never been so comfortable with Lord Martindale. There was the
advantage of being the only lady, and he unbent more than he ever did
at home. He had come partly to see what was to be the next arrangement.
Five weeks of London had been almost too much for Lady Martindale, with
whom it never agreed, and who had found a season with her unmanageable
daughter very different from what it had formerly been, when her aunt
arranged everything for her; and the family were about to return
home. Arthur was to bring his wife to Martindale as soon as his leave
began--but this would not be for a month; and his father, concerned to
see her still so delicate, advised him not to think of her return to
London in the hottest part of the year, and proposed to take her and
the baby home with him. John, however, declared that he should prefer
staying on at Ventnor with her; the place agreed with him, and he liked
the quiet for finishing Percy Fotheringham's work besides, it suited
Arthur better to be able to come backwards and fo