lammed to the
door, and put his elbows on his knees and his face between his hands.
And there he sat, his breast heaving, and his throat gurgling, till at
last the simmering of his feelings fairly boiled over in a hearty flood
of tears. "What an old fool I am!" he exclaimed at last. "It's all the
better for her; and why, then, should I take on in this way? But, eh!
she getting so like an angel--not as I ever seed one, only in a picture-
book, and that had got wings, and she ain't got none. But she's getting
the right look now; she's got into the narrow way, and so has Master
Walter too, only there's a bit of a swagger at present about his
pilgrimage, but it'll all get right. They've got Master Amos with 'em,
bless his heart, and it ain't much of the devil's head or tail as'll
show itself so long as he's got the management of things. And they'll
all be back again by-and-by, and the dear old missus too, I'm sure of
it; so it'll all be well." Comforting himself with this thought, the
old man wiped his eyes with his ample spotted pocket-handkerchief, and
proceeded with his work, which he enlivened with a half--out--loud
accompaniment of texts, scraps of hymns, and fragments of wise and
proverbial sayings.

In the meantime the carriage was conveying the happy trio of travellers
to the station, which being safely reached, they took train, and in the
afternoon arrived at their destination. Amos had secured a nice little
roomy cottage close to the seashore, which was in the hands of a middle-
aged motherly woman, who, with her only daughter, a girl some fifteen
years of age, waited on her guests. Having deposited their luggage, and
ordered a substantial tea, the little party strolled down on to the
sands.

It was a lovely summer day, and the sun was now hastening to the west.
The tide was still running down, though it had come nearly to the turn,
and its gentle rush, as it broke into a thousand sparkles of foam at
each returning wave, made music in their ears. Far away to the left
tall cliffs rose up, their majestic fronts scarred with the batterings
of unnumbered storms. On either hand the shore swept round, completing
the arc of one wide-extended bay, cleft in many places by paths which
led up, now through lanes overhung by rocks of various coloured sand,
and now along downs of softest turf, to the little town, or, further
off, to solitary dwellings or clustering hamlets. Pebbles of dazzling
whiteness lined the