The ceremony had been delayed some months, for Stephen had been in America seeking Harry; seeking him in the great cities and in the lonely mining-camps, but never coming upon his foot steps until they had been worn away into forgetfulness.  At last the rector wrote to him, “Return home, Stephen.  We are both wrong.  It is not human love, but God love, that must seek the lost ones.  If you found Harry now, and brought him back, it would be too soon.  When his lesson is learned, the heart of God will be touched, and he will say, ’That will do, my son.  Arise, and go home.’”

And when Mrs. Sandal smiled through her tears, for the hope’s sake, he took her hand, and added solemnly, “Be confident and glad, you shall see Harry come joyfully to his own home.  Oh, if you could only listen, angels still talk with men!  Raphael, the affable angel, loves to bring them confidences.  God also speaks to his children in dreams, and by the oracles that wait in darkness.  If we know not, it is because we ask not.  But I know, and am sure, that Harry will return in joy and in peace.  And if the dead look over the golden bar of heaven upon their earthly homes, Barf Latrigg, seeing the prosperity of the two houses, which stand upon his love and his self-denial, will say once more to his friend, ‘William, I did well to Sandal.’”