“I wish I could do more to lighten your sorrow,” I said, with tears of sympathy in my eyes as I said my final good-bye, and hastened after Mr. Winthrop, who was waiting, I knew impatiently, on the platform.  I saw Samuel assisting Thomas to control the horses, who were always in awe of the snorting engine; and near them stood a lumbering express, into which the men were putting the long box that I knew contained the rigid body of the dead mother.  Presently the poor husband with his baby crowing gleefully in his arms, climbed up to the seat beside the driver, and they started out on their lonely journey.  Mr. Winthrop was singularly patient with me, although I kept them waiting some time while I stood watching the loaded express pass out of sight.  As I leaned back in our own luxurious carriage, I tried to picture the poor fellow’s home going, and hoped that a welcome would be given that would help to lighten his burdened heart.

CHAPTER XIV.

Humble charities.

Mr. Winthrop had telegraphed Reynolds that morning that we were coming home, and when we came in sight of Oaklands, just in the dim twilight, we found the house brilliantly lighted.  There was such a genial warmth and comfort when we entered the door that I exclaimed joyously: 

“After all, there is no place like home.”

“Is Oaklands better than New York, do you say?” Mr. Winthrop questioned.

“This is home.  To every well regulated mind that is the sweetest spot on earth.”

“Without any reservation?”

“We do not need to make any when it is such a home as Oaklands.”

“Possibly you may think very differently when you get better acquainted with the fascinations of city life.”

“One might enjoy both, don’t you think, Mr. Winthrop?  The contrast would make each more delightful.”

“You must try the experiment before you will be able to give a correct decision.”

“It seems to me to-night one must be hard to please to want a better home than this, especially with an occasional change to city life.  I cannot understand why I have so much more to make life beautiful than others—­so many others—­have.”

“Do you think, then, that your lot is a peculiarly fortunate one?”

“If I did not think so, I would be worse than those Jews who fell to murmuring on their way to Canaan.  If they could have made the journey as comfortably as I am doing they would never have said a word, I believe.”

“That is quite an original way of putting it.  Theologians generally are very severe on the poor Jews.”

“And you are usually pretty severe on the poor theologians,” I said laughingly, as I started for my room.  On the way I met Reynolds, who seemed so glad to have us back that I kissed her on the spot.

“Bless your dear heart,” she exclaimed, “it’s like a flash of sunlight to have you bursting in on us.  You remind me so much of your papa.  He had just such a strong, hearty way as you.”