“Rather better, I believe, sir.”

“Beulah!”

“Well, sir.”

“You have changed in many things since we parted, nearly six years ago!”

“Yes; I thank God, I am changed.  My infidelity was a source of many sorrows; but the clouds have passed from my mind; I have found the truth in Holy Writ.”  Now she raised her head, and looked at him very earnestly.

“Child, does your faith make you happy?”

“Yes; the universe could not purchase it,” she answered solemnly.

There was a brief silence.  He put both hands on her shoulders, and, stooping down, kissed her brow.

“And you prayed for me, Beulah?”

“Yes; evening and morning.  Prayed that you might be shielded from all dangers and brought safely home.  And there was one other thing which I prayed for not less fervently than for your return:  that God would melt your hard, bitter heart, and give you a knowledge of the truth of the Christian religion.  Oh, sir, I thought sometimes that possibly you might die in a far-off land, and then I should see you no more, in time or eternity! and oh, the thought nearly drove me wild!  My guardian, my all, let me not have prayed in vain.”  She clasped his hand in hers, and looked up pleadingly into the loved face; and, for the first time in her life, she saw tears glistening in the burning eyes.  He said nothing, however; took her face in his hands, and scanned it earnestly, as if reading all that had passed during his long absence.  Presently he asked: 

“So you would not marry Lindsay and go to Congress.  Why not?”

“Who told you anything about him?”

“No matter.  Why did not you marry him?”

“Because I did not love him.”

“He is a noble-hearted, generous man.”

“Yes, very; I do not know his superior.”

“What!”

“I mean what I say,” said she firmly.

He smiled, one of his genial, irresistible smiles; and she smiled also, despite herself.  “Give me your hand, Beulah?”

She did so very quietly.

“There—­is it mine?”

“Yes, sir; if you want it.”

“And may I claim it as soon as I choose?”

“Yes, sir.”

She had never seen him look as he did then.  His face kindled, as if in a broad flash of light; the eyes dazzled her, and she turned her face away, as he drew her once more to his bosom, and exclaimed: 

“At last, then, after years of sorrow, and pain, and bitterness, I shall be happy in my own home; shall have a wife, a companion, who loves me for myself alone.  Ah, Beulah, my idol; I will make you happy!”

The rain fell heavily, and it grew dark, for the night came rapidly down.  There was a furious ringing of the library bell; the doctor had come home, and, as usual, wanted half a dozen things at once.

“Have you seen Dr. Asbury?”

“No.  I came directly to the house; saw no one as I entered; and, hearing the melodeon, followed the sound.”