“Earle, I am _glad_ you have come,” she said, as she raised her eyes shining with happy tears to read the face she loved so well. It was the same simple yet hearty greeting that she had given him so long ago on that day before Christmas, when he had come to her. Earle remembered it, and drew her still closer as he thought of her constancy to him through all the various changes of the last four years. “The wings of the wind were not rapid enough to bear me to you, my own, when I knew that you wanted me; and yet I did not dream of the joy that was awaiting me,” he said, with tremulous gladness. “Joy and sorrow too, Earle, for papa cannot remain with us long,” she answered, with a sigh. She still called Mr. Dalton by the old familiar name, for not only would it have been awkward to change, but it would have seemed cruel to the invalid, who in all the world had alone this fair girl to cling to. But in her heart she thanked God every day that Richard Forrester had been her father instead of Sumner Dalton, while no words could express her joy for the loving mother she had found. “Yes, it pains me to find him as he is,” Earle returned, in answer to her remark; but he was thinking more of his spiritual condition than of his physical suffering. “He is very sorry for the past,” Editha said, with a wistful look; “he talks of it almost constantly in his sleep in a wild, sad way, although he speaks bitterly when he is awake. He begs Marion—that was your mother, Earle—to forgive him, and tells her that he did not see things then as he does now. I think she would forgive him now if she could see him; and, Earle, I wish you could forgive him, too. Oh, if you could part at peace with each other!” “We can, my darling. I have never wished him any ill, and freely forgive him every wrong; though, of course, it cannot be expected that I could feel any affection for him,” Earle replied, gravely. “No—oh, no.” “And my mother’s wrongs were very grievous.” “I know,” Editha said, with a deep sigh of regret, as she thought of that delicate, lovely girl, and what torture she must have endured when she believed herself betrayed and scorned. “Editha, can _you_ forgive Mr. Dalton for all he has wilfully made you suffer—for trying to part us when there was no need, and for seeking to hide you from your mother?” Earle asked, regarding her curiously. The tears sprang to her eyes as she answered: