os with a sigh; "but, at any rate, _all_
is not dark," he added. "I am bringing a little gladness with me. My
dear father sends you his love--"

"What--what, Amos!" she exclaimed, interrupting him with almost a
shriek. "Oh, say it again! Oh, can it really be?--my father send me
his love! Oh, dearest Amos, was it really so?"

"Yes; he knows nearly all now, and his heart has opened to you, and he
bids me tell you there is a place for you in the old home still."

Sinking on the ground, the bewildered, agitated creature clasped her
hands across her forehead, as though the swollen veins would burst with
the intensity of her emotion. At last, yielding to her brother's tender
caresses, she grew calmer, and allowing him to draw her close to him,
she wept a full flood of tears, which brought with them a measure of
peace in their flow. "Oh! can it be?" she cried again, but now more
hopefully--"a place for me yet in the dear old home, and my father's
smile on me once more." Then she added in a scared, hoarse whisper,
"But that doesn't include _him_?"

"No, not your unhappy husband; my father could not receive him."

"Of course not, Amos. Oh that I had never married him! Every spark of
love for him has died out of my heart now. I hate him, and I loathe
myself."

"Nay, nay, dear sister," said Amos soothingly, "don't say so. He has
sinned, greatly sinned, but all may yet be well."

"Never, never," she cried, "while he claims me for his wife!"

"Well, well," said Amos, "calm yourself, dear Julia. See, here is proof
visible of my father's love to you: he has bid me put these two ten-
pound notes into Mrs Allison's hands for you. He sends them to
yourself, but I am to place them with her, lest they should be taken
from you."

"Let me look at them with my own eyes," she cried; and when Amos
produced them, she pressed them eagerly to her lips, exclaiming, "Dear,
dear father, God bless you for this!"

"And now," said her brother, when she had sufficiently recovered herself
to listen to him quietly, "we must consider next what is best to be
done. Do you think your husband is likely to be here again soon? and if
so, will it be of any use your speaking to him on the subject of your
father having expressed his willingness to receive you without him?
Would he be willing to leave you to us now, and to go abroad himself to
some distant land? and do you yourself really desire this separation?"

"Desire it, Amos! how can