The day had been full of sweet, trustful thoughts. She was conscious of a presence within her heart and all around that she knew was Divine, and in spite of her anxiety about her father and the uncertainty of the future, she had a rest and contentment of mind that she had never experienced before. Then she felt such a genuine sympathy for the sufferers about her, and found them so grateful when she spoke to them gently and kindly, that she wondered she had never before discovered the joy of ministering to others. She was entering a new world, and, though there might be suffering in it, the antidote was ever near, and the pleasures promised to grow richer, fuller, more satisfying, till they developed into the perfect happiness of heaven. But every Christian joy that was like a sweet surprise--every thrilling hope that pointed to endless progress in all that is best and noblest in life, instead of the sudden blank and nothingness that threatened but yesterday--and, above all, the animating consciousness of the Divine love which kept her murmuring, "My Saviour, my good, kind Heavenly Father," all reminded her of him who had been instrumental in bringing about the wondrous change. Often during the day she would go and look at him, and could Dennis only have opened his eyes at such a moment, and caught her expression, no words would have been needed to assure him of his happiness. The low afternoon sun shone in gold and crimson on his brow and face through the stained windows before he gave signs of waking, and then she hurried away to get the coffee hot from the urn. She had hardly gone before he arose greatly refreshed and strengthened, but so famished that a roast ox would have seemed but a comfortable meal. His eye at once caught the sandwiches placed temptingly near. "That is Miss Ludolph's work," he said; "I wonder if she has saved any for herself." He was about to go and geek her when she met him with the coffee. "Go back," she said; "how dare you disobey orders?" "I was coming to find you." "Well, that is the best excuse you could have made, but I am here; so sit down and drink this coffee and devour these sandwiches." "Not unless you share them with me." "Insubordinate! See here," and she took out her more dainty provision from behind a seat and sat down opposite, in such a pretty, companionable way that he in his admiration and pleasure forgot his sandwiches. "What is the matter?" she asked. "You are to eat the sandwiches, not me." "A very proper hint, Miss Ludolph; one might well be inclined to make the mistake." "Now that is a compliment worthy of the king of the Cannibal Islands." "Miss Ludolph," said Dennis, looking at her earnestly, "you do indeed seem happy."