on his
return to Minehead, he was at peace with himself and all men. True it
was that the making of his will had brought home to him the fact that it
was not the same thing as when, being in the prime of life, he had made
it in favour of his two sons, who were now dead,--it was really and
truly a final winding-up of his temporal interests, and an admitted
approach to the verge of the Eternal,--but he was not depressed by this
consciousness. On the contrary, a happy sense of perfect calm pervaded
his whole being, and as the train bore him swiftly through the quiet,
lovely land back to Minehead, that sea-washed portal to the little
village paradise which held the good angel of his life, he silently
thanked God that he had done the work which he had started out to do,
and that he had been spared to return and look again into the beloved
face of the one woman in all the world who had given him a true
affection without any "motive," or hope of reward. And he murmured again
his favourite lines:--

"Let the sweet heavens endure,
Not close nor darken above me,
Before I am quite, quite sure
That there is one to love me!
Then let come what come may,
To a life that has been so sad,
I shall have had my day!"

"That is true!" he said--"And being 'quite, quite sure' beyond all
doubt, that I have found 'one to love me' whose love is of the truest,
holiest and purest, what more can I ask of Divine goodness!"

And his face was full of the light of a heart's content and peace, as
the dimpled hill coast of Somerset came into view, and the warm spring
sunshine danced upon the sea.

CHAPTER XXI

Arriving at Minehead, Helmsley passed out of the station unnoticed by
any one, and made his way easily through the sunny little town. He was
soon able to secure a "lift" towards Weircombe in a baker's cart going
half the way; the rest of the distance he judged he could very well
manage to walk, albeit slowly. A fluttering sense of happiness, like the
scarcely suppressed excitement of a boy going home from school for the
holidays, made him feel almost agile on his feet,--if he had only had a
trifle more strength he thought he could have run the length of every
mile stretching between him and the dear cottage in the coombe, which
had now become the central interest of his life. The air was so pure,
the sun so bright--the spring foliage was so fresh and green, the birds
sang so joyously--all nature see