I do not think we wait for people to become angels before we
love them."

"We do wait--for them to become angels, sometimes," said Annis, softly,
"before we know how well we love them."

They sat silent for a while after this: even Mr Underhill seemed to be
meditating; neither did he pursue his inquiry any further. Marguerite
rose and went up-stairs, where Thekla was already; but the rest kept
their places. And while they sat, there came a very soft rapping at the
door. The party looked one on another in doubt, for the rapping was in
the form of the old signal-tap which the Gospellers were wont to use
when they assembled for prayer in each others' houses. And there was no
gathering at the Lamb to-night.

Barbara rose and went to the door. The minute she opened it, they heard
her cry "Eh!" but no more. The person outside spoke, and Barbara
answered, more than once, but too low for those within to hear words, or
even whose voice it was; then Barbara stepped forward, and opened the
door of the chamber. All felt some strange thing at hand, and they held
their breath. And the next minute they were saluted by a voice which
had been silent to them for four long, weary years.

"How do you all, dear friends?" said Mr Rose.

All gathered round him with joyful greeting, but Isoult. She never
stayed to think, but she found herself at the head of the stairs before
she had time to consider. Thekla was just closing the door of the
chamber to come down.

"Thekla!" cried Isoult, seizing her by the arm.

"Who is come?" asked she. "I heard something."

"Tell thy mother, darling," said Isoult--"but canst thou bear glad news
thyself?"

"I see them in your eyes," she answered. "They are too glad but for one
of two things. Is it my father?"

Ah! it was only one. Thekla prepared her mother, in the gentle way she
knew, and then running below, was clasped in her father's arms. She
took him up-stairs, and no more was seen of any of them; for,
anticipating that they would prefer to be alone, Isoult sent Esther
above with a dish from the supper-table.

It was four years to a day since Mr Rose was taken. In his case, God
had been very gracious to them. The four years were the same for Robin;
but how should the end be? And--a thought at once joyous and yet
terrible--the end could not be far-off now.

Isoult saw that Mr Rose had aged in those four years, when she had time
to study his countenance. If such a thing were