"Nothing could be more like him! My darling, thank you a thousand times!"
"I painted almost entirely from memory, mamma, and it was emphatically a labor of love—love to you and to him. Oh, how sadly sweet it was to see the dear face growing day by day under my hand!"
"Has your grandpa seen it?"
"Yes, mamma, he used to come in sometimes and watch me at my work. He thinks as you do of the likeness. Ah, I hear his step!" and she hastened to open the door for him.
"I thought I should find you here," he said, kissing her on both cheeks, then drawing her near the light and gazing with keen, loving scrutiny into the blushing face.
"Elsie daughter," turning to her—"Ah!" as he perceived her emotion and took note of the miniature in her hand, "is it not a speaking likeness?"
"Yes, papa," she said in a trembling voice, going to him to lay her head on his breast while he clasped her in his arms, "but it has roused such an intense longing in my heart!
"'Oh, for the touch of a vanished hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still!"
"Dearest child!" he said tenderly, "the separation is only for time, and a long eternity of reunion will follow. 'Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.'"
"'But for a moment!'" she repeated. "Yes, it will seem like that when it is past, though now the road looks so long and lonely."