Quietly sat Mrs. Robertson, plying the needle at her fireside, when the door gently opened, and her son stood before her.
That was a moment of joy too deep for description. While the mother and son were clasped in a long embrace, Hal could not help having his share of the interview by crying out, "He's come home! Be n't it splendid? He's come! Dear, dear, I shall burst."
"You dear good fellow," said Blair, throwing his arm over Hal's shoulder, "you've been a comfort to my mother, I know."
"That he has," said Mrs. Robertson. "It was he who told me how your noble courage saved your native town and the very home of your mother from the flames. I thank God for such a son."
"Then I did what you would have wished, mother. Your praise is my precious reward," said Blair with affectionate simplicity.
"God has sustained you in the path of duty, and brought you in safety to your home and your mother. Let us thank him for all his mercies, my son. Hal is no stranger to prayer now; he will gladly join us."
It was indeed the voice of true thanksgiving which rose from those grateful hearts. He who has contrived joys for the meanest of his creatures, doubtless takes a pure pleasure in the happiness which he gives to his chosen ones even here; and rejoices to know that it is but the foreshadowing of that eternal delight in store for them where parting shall be no more.