With Julia the case was different. Long had she resisted the hand that would have led her heavenwards by trial and sorrow. High-spirited, self-willed, and self-absorbed though not selfish, she had struggled long against those cords of love which were drawing her out of the pathway of error and death. But she had yielded at last, and, having yielded, she struggled no longer. Her one great and abiding desire now was to make progress on the higher road. Not that she had lost her relish for amusement or her interest in outward things; but her spirit was chastened,--a new light burned within her. Not that she loved Walter less, but she loved Amos more; her heart was now more in unison with his, and she could now appreciate the delicacy, and deep tenderness, and consideration of his self-sacrificing love towards herself, which she had in time past so cruelly flung back upon him, and occasionally almost resented. So that now she felt it to be both her duty and her privilege to mark and copy the nobility of his unpretending but sterling character. Such were brother and sister as they cantered off along the sands on the morning when Amos set off to call on and consult Dr Atkin about his mother. It was a charming summer day. The sea was sparkling in its numberless wavelets; a gentle breeze blew with just so much pressure in the faces of the riders as to add vigour to their spirits as they plunged forward against it. Sea-birds wheeled round and round before them, and everything spoke of brightness and enjoyment. The five miles, partly along the sands and partly along roads skirting the edge of the cliffs, and affording a magnificent extent of sea-view, were soon completed. Walter was full of life and fun, only regretting that he could not work up his sister into a mood as buoyant as his own. However, he did his best, and satisfied himself that it was only natural that the pressure of old sorrows could not yet be wholly taken off from Julia's heart.