uresque banks where the tender blue of the
speedwell was visible from time to time, with the white glimmer of the
starwort. And then all this time they had on their left a gleaming and
wind-driven sea, full of motion, and light, and color, and showing the
hurrying shadows of the flying clouds.

At last far away, secluded and quiet, they came to a quaint little inn,
placed high over the sea, and surrounded by sheltering woods and hedges.
The sun lay warm on the smooth green lawn in front, where the daisies
grew. There were dark shadows--almost black shadows--along the
encircling hedge and under the cedars; but these only showed the more
brilliantly the silver lighting of the restless, whirling, wind-swept
sea beyond. It was a picturesque little house, with its long veranda
half-smothered in ivy and rose bushes now in bud; with its tangled
garden about, green with young hawthorn and sweetened by the perfume of
the lilacs; with its patches of uncut grass, where the yellow cowslips
drooped. There was an air of dreamy repose about the place; even that
whirling and silvery gray sea produced no sound; here the winds were
stilled, and the black shadows of the trees on that smooth green lawn
only moved with the imperceptible moving of the sun.

Violet went up stairs and into her room alone; she threw open the small
casements, and stood there looking out with a somewhat vague and distant
look. There was no mischief now in those dark and tender eyes; there was
rather an anxious and wistful questioning. And her heart seemed to go
out from her to implore these gentle winds, and the soft colors of the
sea, and the dreamy stillness of the woods, that now they should, if
ever that was possible to them, bring all their sweet and curative
influences to bear on him who had come among them. Now, if ever! Surely
the favorable skies would heed, and the secret healing of the woods
would hear, and the bountiful life-giving sea winds would bestir to her
prayer! Surely it was not too late!

CHAPTER XLVI.

HOPE'S WINGS.

The long journey had taxed his returning strength to the utmost, and for
the remainder of that day he looked worn and fatigued; but on the next
morning he was in the best of spirits, and nothing would do but that
they should at once set out on their explorations.

"Why not rest here?" said Violet. They were sitting in the shade of
their morning room, the French windows wide open, the pillars and roof
of the veranda