Oh, with what thankfulness did Amos hear the physician's conclusion; and how warm and loving was the welcome which greeted the poor restored one as she entered, a few days later, the sea-side cottage, and took her place in the comfortable armchair arranged for her in a snug corner, where she could look out upon the sea, and at the same time be close to all those dear ones who were now once more truly her own. And day by day, as the mind of that beloved mother became clearer and stronger, they were able with prudent gentleness to make her understand the state of things at home and the sad history of her unhappy son-in-law; while at the same time Amos never lost an opportunity of directing his dear mother to that Word of consolation, which he knew would be to her, as it had been to himself, the only true and satisfying fountain of abiding peace. And thus it was that she now learned to love that Bible which, in former days, had never been really her stay, for she had not then given her heart to Him who is the author, the centre, and the giver of all truth, peace, and consolation. CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. A SLIP ON THE ROAD. It will be remembered that Julia and Walter had an excursion to a neighbouring fashionable watering-place about five miles distant, and spent the day there while Amos was making his first call at his mother's retreat, and that they returned in the evening out of spirits, something evidently having gone amiss with them. The incidents of that excursion will sufficiently explain the cause of their depression. It can readily be understood that Walter's progress in the higher paths of duty on which he had now sincerely entered was not at all times equally rapid. He was always meaning well, and could "put on a spurt and row hard against the stream," as he himself expressed it, from time to time, but the long, steady, and regular stroke he found it very hard to keep up. Naturally full of spirits, cherished and encouraged in thoughts of his own superiority, and accustomed, as long as he could remember, to have pretty much his own way, it was no light thing for him to put a curb on his inclinations, or to check sudden impulses when they were in the direction of what was dashing or generous. So that, while his deliberate convictions were on the side of all that was right, he was very liable to be led to swerve a little from the narrow path when any sudden strain was put upon him by his own natural or acquired tastes, where he could not gratify these with a safe conscience.