nd
"the days of their mourning shall be ended." The words were like a
lovely chime of bells,--or like the breath from a whole garden of roses
and orange flowers,--or like the sunset light on the bay of Naples; or
anything else most majestic, sweet, and fair. What if there were
shadowed places to go through first?--And a region of shadow Dolly
surely knew she had entered now. She longed for her father to come
home; she wanted to consult with him about their arrangements, and so
arrive at some certainty respecting what she had to do and expect. But
Dolly knew that an early coming home was scarce to be hoped for; and
she providently roused her mother at ten o'clock, and persuaded her to
go to bed. Then Dolly waited alone in truth, with not even her sleeping
mother's company; very sad at heart, and clutching, as a lame man does
his stick, at some of the words of comfort she knew. "Though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for
Thou art with me." The case was not quite so bad, nor so good, with her
as that; but the words were a strong staff to lean upon, nevertheless.
And those others: "Because he hath set his love upon Me, therefore will
I deliver him; I will set him on high, because he hath known My name.
He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in
trouble;"... And, "There shall no evil happen to the just." Dolly
stayed her heart on such words, while she waited for her father's
coming. As it grew later and yet later she doubted whether she ought to
wait. She was waiting however when he came, between twelve and one, but
nearer the latter. She listened to his step on the stair, and knew all
was not right; and when he opened the door, she saw. Her father had
surely been taking wine or something; his face was flushed, his eyes
were excited, and his manner was wandering.

"Dolly!--What are you here for?"

"I waited for you, father. I wanted to have a talk with you. But it's
too late now," Dolly said, trembling.

"Too late--yes, of course. Go to bed. That's the thing for you. London
is a great place, Dolly!"

Alas! His expression of satisfaction was echoed in her heart by an
anathema. It was no time then to say anything. Dolly went to bed and
cried herself to sleep, longing for that sunshiny time of which it is
promised to the Lord's people--"Thy sun shall no more go down by day;"
and thankful beyond all power of words to express, even then in her
sorrow, that anoth