dog like Sandy may as well appear to be dead to those at home.
I love no one in England but my little Daisy, and she does not need me,
she has abundance without me.' So I ceased to write. I had gone to a
part of the country where even an English paper reached us but once or
twice a year. I heard nothing of the old home; and by degrees I got out
of the habit of writing. I was satisfied to be considered dead. I did
wrong, I confess."

"By coming back, by proclaiming your existence, you could have exposed
me years ago," said Mr. Harman; "how I dreaded exposure; how little I
knew, when it did come, that it would fall lightly in comparison
with----"

"What?" asked Wilson.

"The awful frown of God's displeasure. Man, to be shut away from God
through your own sin is to be in hell. I have dwelt there for three and
twenty years. Until two nights ago, I have known no peace; now, I know
God can forgive even such a sin as mine."

"I believe you have suffered, Mr. Harman," answered Wilson. "For the
matter of that, we are all poor sinners. God have mercy upon us all!"

"Amen," said Mr. Harman.

And that was all the reproof Sandy ever found in his heart to give to
his fellow trustee.

CHAPTER LVI.

MRS. HOME'S DREAM.

Still, there was a weight on Charlotte Home's mind. Much had been given
to her, so much that she could scarcely believe herself to be the same
woman, who a few short months ago had pawned her engagement ring to buy
her little son a pair of shoes. She was now wealthy beyond her wildest
dreams; she was wealthy not only in money but in friends. Charlotte
Harman was her almost daily companion. Charlotte Harman clung to her
with an almost passionate love. Uncle Sandy, too, had made himself, by
his cheerfulness, his generosity, his kindness of nature, a warm place
in her affections; and Mr. Harman saw her more than once, and she found
that she could love even Mr. Harman. Then--how well, how beautiful her
children looked! How nice it was to see them surrounded by those good
things of life which, despise them as some people will, still add charms
to those who possess them! Above all, how happy her dear husband was!
Angus Home's face was like the sun itself, during the days which
followed Mr. Harman's confession. This sunshine with him had nothing to
say to the altered and improved circumstances of his life; but it had a
great deal to say to the altered circumstances of his mind. God had
most signally, most r