hat life was good, and the world beautiful. He tried to raise himself,
but failed. Cupples was by his side in a moment. Alec held out his hand
with his old smile so long disused. Cupples propped him up with
pillows, and opened the window that the warm waves of the air might
break into the cave where he had lain so long deaf to its noises and
insensible to its influences. The tide flowed into his chamber like
Pactolus, all golden with sunbeams. He lay with his hands before him
and his eyes closed, looking so happy that Cupples gazed with reverent
delight, for he thought he was praying. But he was only blessed. So
easily can God make a man happy! The past had dropped from him like a
wild but weary and sordid dream. He was reborn, a new child, in a new
bright world, with a glowing summer to revel in. One of God's lyric
prophets, the larks, was within earshot, pouring down a vocal summer of
jubilant melody. The lark thought nobody was listening but his wife;
but God heard in heaven, and the young prodigal heard on the earth. He
would be a good child henceforth, for one bunch of sunrays was enough
to be happy upon. His mother entered. She saw the beauty upon her boy's
worn countenance; she saw the noble watching love on that of his
friend; her own filled with light, and she stood transfixed and silent.
Annie entered, gazed for a moment, fled to her own room, and burst into
adoring tears.--For she had seen the face of God, and that face was
Love--love like the human, only deeper, deeper--tenderer, lovelier,
stronger. She could not recall what she had seen, or how she had known
it; but the conviction remained that she had seen his face, and that it
was infinitely beautiful.

"He has been wi' me a' the time, my God! He gied me my father, and sent
Broonie to tak' care o' me, and Dooie, and Thomas Crann, and Mrs
Forbes, and Alec. And he sent the cat whan I gaed till him aboot the
rottans. An' he's been wi' me I kenna hoo lang, and he's wi' me noo.
And I hae seen his face, and I'll see his face again. And I'll try sair
to be a gude bairn. Eh me! It's jist wonnerfu! And God's
jist....naething but God himsel'."

CHAPTER LXXX.

Although Mr Cupples had been educated for the Church, and was indeed at
this present time a licentiate, he had given up all thought of pursuing
what had been his mother's ambition rather than his own choice. But his
thoughts had not ceased to run in some of the old grooves, although a
certain sc