"Speak not of my blindness as a misfortune," answered Emily; "I have long ceased to think it such. It is only through the darkness of the night that we discern the lights of heaven, and only when shut out from earth that we enter the gates of Paradise. With eyes to see the wonderful working of nature and nature's God, I nevertheless closed them to the evidences of Almighty love that were around me on every side. While enjoying the beautiful gifts that were showered on my pathway, I forgot to praise the Giver; but, with an ungrateful heart, walked sinfully on, little dreaming of the deceitful snares which entangle the footsteps of youth. And therefore did he, who is ever over us for good, arrest with fatherly hand the child who was wandering from the road that leads to peace; and, though the discipline of his chastening rod was sudden and severe, mercy tempered justice. From the tomb of my buried joys sprang hopes that will bloom in immortality. From the clouds and the darkness broke forth a glorious light. Then grieve not, dear Philip, over the fate that is far from sad; but rejoice with me in the thought of that blessed and not far distant awakening, when, with restored and beautiful vision, I shall stand before God's throne, in full view of that glorious Presence, from which, but for the guiding light which has burst upon my spirit through the veil of earthly darkness, I might have been eternally shut out."
As Emily finished speaking, and Philip, gazing with awe upon the rapt expression of her soul-illumined face, beheld the triumph of an immortal mind, and pondered on the might, the majesty, and power of the influence wrought by simple piety, the door of the room opened abruptly and Mr. Graham entered.
The sound of the well-known footstep disturbed the soaring thoughts of both, and the flush of excitement which had mounted into Emily's cheeks subsided into more than her wonted paleness as Philip, rising slowly from her side, stood face to face with her father.
Mr. Graham approached with the scrutinizing air of one called upon to greet a visitor who, though an apparent stranger, may possibly have claims to recognition, and glanced at his daughter as if hoping she would relieve the awkwardness by an introduction. But the agitated Emily maintained perfect silence, and every feature of Philip's countenance remained immovable as Mr. Graham slowly came forward.
He had advanced within one step of the spot where Philip stood waiting to receive him, when, struck by the stern look and attitude of the latter, he stopped short, gazed one moment into the eagle eyes of his step-son, then staggered, grasped at the mantel-piece, and would have fallen, but Philip, starting forward, helped him to his arm-chair. And yet no word was spoken. At length Mr. Graham, who, having fallen into the seat, sat still gazing into the face of Mr. Amory, ejaculated in a tone of wondering excitement, "Philip Amory! Oh, my God!"
"Yes, father," exclaimed Emily, suddenly rising and grasping her father's arm; "it is Philip; he whom we have so long believed among the dead, restored to us in health and safety!"
Mr. Graham rose from his chair and, leaning heavily on Emily's shoulder, again approached Mr. Amory, who, with folded arms, stood fixed as marble. His step tottered with a feebleness never before observable in the sturdy frame of the old man, and the hand which he extended to Philip was marked by an unusual tremulousness. But Philip did not offer to receive the proffered hand, or reply by word to the rejected salutation.
Mr. Graham turned towards Emily and, forgetting that this neglect was shut from her sight, exclaimed half-bitterly, half-sadly, "I cannot blame him! God knows I wronged the boy!"
"Wronged him!" cried Philip, in a voice almost fearful. "Yes, wronged him, indeed! Blighted his life, crushed his youth, half broke his heart, and wholly blighted his reputation!"
"No," exclaimed Mr. Graham, who had quailed beneath these accusations, until he reached the final one; "not that, Philip!—not that! I never harmed you there; I discovered my error before I had doomed you to infamy in the eyes of one of your fellow-men."