Oh, how often, often in his lonely night-watches had he pictured this home-coming—dwelling on and gloating over each little detail as a miser does over his gold, till the whole dream-picture became beautiful with a golden glory. He saw the tiny, fairy figure flying to meet him, the quaint gipsy face glowing its joyous welcome, and the great dark eyes shining their wondrous gladness. He felt the clasp of two soft arms round his neck, the touch of warm kisses on his lips, and heard the bright, merry voice melting into sweetest tones, as words of love and tenderness were poured into his hungering ear. And this was the end of it all—his dream-picture shattered, and a young life blasted through a haughty girl's thirst for revenge.
Dick's heart was full of rage and hatred. "If Ada Irvine were within my reach just now," he muttered, "she would live to regret this day." Then raising his head, he looked, and found Edith had slipped away and left him alone with his grief.
The boy rose, sighing heavily. "I am hardly myself yet," he said, dashing his rough, sun-burnt hand across his eyes, and moving slowly towards the door. "What a fool I am, giving way like this! But these things unman a fellow, and I need not be ashamed of my tears. Where did they say she was? In the oak parlour. Well, here goes;" and off strode Dick, swinging along the lighted hall and up the broad stairs at what he afterwards described as the rate of knots.
CHAPTER XVII.
"I SHALL LEARN TO BE GOOD NOW."
"Dick, Dick! is it really you? O my dear boy, I can hardly believe it!" and Winnie clasped her feeble arms tighter round the young sailor's neck, as if fearful of waking and finding it all a dream.
"Yes, it's the same old fellow turned up again, Win," was the reply, given half chokingly. "Nip me, and you will find I am neither ghost nor spirit, but real flesh and blood." And the boy, kneeling by the invalid's couch, felt his eyes growing dim and misty again at the sound of the weak young voice lingering so lovingly over his name.
"I am so glad," said the child, lying back amongst her soft cushions, and looking at the big stalwart form before her. "I have been longing and longing to see you, Dick, through each weary day and night; yearning for the touch of your hand and sound of your voice: and now, to think you are really, truly here, alive and well! God is very good, dear," and the low voice uttered the last words solemnly and reverently.
The boy looked at his little sister wonderingly. "Have you learned to say that from the heart, Win?" he asked with greater earnestness in his tones. "Looking at your life as it is now, as it is likely to be all through the future years, can you still repeat the words, 'God is very good'!"