Ah, those quiet, tender, sisterly words of encouragement, of cheer, of hope! Blest is the man who can enjoy them! and accursed must he be who scorns them, or who can never win them. Phil, indeed, had never given over most devoted and respectful attentions to Adele; but he had shown them latterly with a subdued and half-distrustful air, which Adele with her keen insight had not been slow to understand. Trust a woman for fathoming all the shades of doubt which overhang the addresses of a lover! Yet it was not easy for Phil, or indeed for any other, to understand or explain the manner of Adele at this time. Elated she certainly was in the highest degree at the thought of meeting and welcoming her father; and there was an exuberance in her spirits when she talked of it, that seemed almost unnatural; but the coming shadow of the new mother whom she was bound to welcome dampened all. The Doctor indeed had warned her against the Romish prejudices of this newly found relative, and had entreated her to cling by the faith in which she had been reared; but it was no fear of any such conflict that oppressed her;--creeds all vanished under the blaze of that natural affection which craved a motherly embrace and which foresaw only falsity. What wonder if her thought ran back, in its craving, to the days long gone,--to the land where the olive grew upon the hills, and the sunshine lay upon the sea,--where an old godmother, with withered hands clasped and raised, lifted up her voice at nightfall and chanted,-- "O sanctissima, O piissima, Dulcis virgo Maria, Mater amata, Intemerata, Ora, ora, pro nobis!" The Doctor would have been shocked had he heard the words tripping from the tongue of Adele; yet, for her, they had no meaning save as expressive of a deep yearning for motherly guidance and motherly affection. Mrs. Elderkin, with her kindly instinct, had seen the perplexity of Adele, and had said to her one day, "Ady, my dear, is the thought not grateful to you that you will meet your mother once more, and be clasped in her arms?" "If I could,--if I could!" said Adele, with a burst of tears. "But you will, my child, you will. The Doctor has shown us the letters of your father. Nothing can be clearer. Even now she must be longing to greet you." "Why does she not come, then?"--with a tone that was almost taunting. "But, Adele, my dear, there may be reasons of which you do not know or which you could not understand." "I could,--I do!" said Adele, with spirit mastering her grief. "'T is not my mother, my true mother; she is in the graveyard; I know it!" "My dear child, do not decide hastily. We love you; we all love you. You know that. And whatever may happen, you shall have a home with us. I will be a mother to you, Adele."