You feel all this, my son." She looked at him with an anxious, questioning glance.

She feared that the mysticism of Germany might have obscured the brightness of his Christian faith.
"I _am_ grateful, my mother," he answered with deep seriousness, "grateful to God for the blessings of this hour.

This has been one of the happiest evenings of my life.

Surely it is worth years of absence to be welcomed to such a home, and by such pure, loving hearts,--hearts in which I can trust without hypocrisy and without guile." "Believe all hearts true, my son, till you prove them false." "Faith is a gift of heaven, not an act of human will," he replied.

Then I remembered what Richard Clyde had said of him, and I thought of it again when alone in my chamber.
Edith peeped in through the door that divided our rooms.
"Have we not had a charming evening ?" she asked.
"Yes, _very_," I answered.
"How fond you are of that little adverb _very_," she exclaimed with a laugh; "you make it sound so expressively.