l sides, as she and Amos
drove along the well-known roads, in through the great green gates, up
the drive, and then, with a sudden pull up, to the front door. The next
moment she had sprung on to the door-steps with an eager cry, and found
herself clasped in her father's arms.

"My poor, poor child! welcome home again," he murmured, with choking
tears.

"O father! father!" she cried, "it is too much happiness." She could
say no more.

Then she received the warm embrace of her aunt, who was saddened to mark
the lines of care on that young face, which was all brightness the last
time she had seen it. And then, as she raised herself up, and
disengaged herself from those loving arms, her eyes fell on the old
butler, who was twisting a large red pocket-handkerchief into a rope, in
his vain efforts to restrain his emotions, which at last found vent in a
long cadence of mingled sobs and exclamations. For a moment Julia
Vivian hesitated, and then flung her arms round the neck of the old man,
who made the hall ring with a shout of thanksgiving. Then, calming
down, he said, half out loud, and half confidentially to himself, "You
know it was to be so, and so it is. We've got Miss Julia as was back
among us again; and we don't mean to part with her never again no more."

Oh, what a day of gladness was that to Amos Huntingdon! One half of the
great purpose to which he had devoted his life was now accomplished.
The banished sister had been welcomed back by his father to her earthly
home. And yet, how much still remained to be done! But, as he had
worked on in faith and trust before, so he would continue trusting,
watching, working, committing all to the wise guiding and overruling of
that loving Father whose leading hand he had hitherto sought to follow,
but never to outrun.

How bright were the faces which gathered round the dinner-table that
evening!--though even then the cloud rested in a measure on every heart;
for that poor worn face, and those wistful pitiful eyes, told of a deep
and hidden sorrow, and of an abiding humiliation, which not even the
pure love that now beamed on her from all sides could remove from the
burdened spirit of the restored wanderer. Down in the kitchen, however,
the rejoicing was unclouded, except that Harry mourned over his young
mistress's faded beauty and sad looks, and occupied a considerable
portion of his leisure time in punching an imaginary head, held firm
under his left arm, and