Thus, a heavy burden was lifted from Rhoda's heart. Mrs. Farren's letter was a psalm of thanksgiving from beginning to end. "In the day when I cried, Thou answeredst me, and strengthenedst me with strength in my soul," she wrote, in her gladness. And Rhoda's spirit caught up the joyful strain. Yet she once found herself wishing that Mr. Channell had not been one of Robert Clarris's friends. True, Clarris had long ago restored the three hundred pounds, and had regularly sent money for his child's support. But was not the old taint upon him still? Rhoda could never get rid of the notion that he had been too leniently dealt with. Hers was a mind which always clings to an idea. Moreover, her life, from its very beginning, had been a narrow life. She had never been called upon to battle with a strong temptation. But, like all whose strength has not been tried, she believed that she could have stood any test. It is easy for him who sits in peace to cry shame on the soldier who deserts his post. There are few of us who cannot be heroes in imagination. And most of our harsh judgments come from a narrow experience. We can only learn something of the power of Divine Love by knowing the evil against which it contends. Those who want to see what God's grace can do must look for its light in dark places. When February and March had gone by, Rhoda found herself free to go home. She went back to the sweet lights and shadows of April; to the glitter of fresh showers, and the scent of hyacinths and wall-flowers. Her mother's arms were opened to her. Nelly clung to her neck, half-crying for joy. Her father and Mr. Channell were out in the meadows, they told her; they would come indoors for tea. It was Nelly who had most to say about the stranger. "You never knew anybody so kind, Rhoda," she said, earnestly. "He makes us all happy, and he's taken me to see mother's grave every Sunday while you were away." Rhoda was standing at the back-door when she saw them coming from the fields. Nelly, with her pinafore full of kittens, still chattered by her side. Just in front of the door was the old cherry-tree, covered with silvery blossoms and spangled with rain-drops. It looked like a bridal bouquet hung with diamonds. Men were sowing barley in the acres beyond the fence. Rhoda was watching the blossoms and the sowers, and yet she saw those two figures.