The happy voices of children fell in music on his ears, and small arms clasping his neck sent electric thrills of gladness to his heart.
And how full of serene joy was the face of his wife, the angel of his home as she greeted his return, and welcomed him with words that never disturbed, but always tranquillized! "There is a better time coming, Agnes," he said in an exultant voice, when they were alone that evening.

He had informed her of the settlement of his affairs in New York, and reception of the sum which had been awarded to him in the division of property recovered from Mr.Lyon.
"A better time, Edward ?" said Mrs.Markland.She seemed slightly startled at his words, and looked half timidly into his face.
"Yes, a better time, love.

I have too long been powerless in the hands of a stern necessity, which has almost crushed the life out of me; but morning begins to break, the night is passing, and my way in the world grows clear again." "_In_ the world, or _through_ the world ?" asked Mrs.Markland, in a voice and with an expression of countenance that left her meaning in no doubt.
He looked at her for several moments, his face changing until the light fading left it almost shadowed.
"Edward," said Mrs.Markland, leaning toward him, and speaking earnestly, but, lovingly, "you look for a better time.

How better?
Are we not happy here?
Nay, did we ever know more of true happiness than since we gathered closer together in this pleasant home?
Have we not found a better time in a true appreciation of the ends of life?
Have we not learned to live, in some feeble degree, that inner and higher life, from the development of which alone comes the soul's tranquillity?
Ah, Edward, do not let go of these truths that we have learned.

Do not let your eyes become so dazzled by the splendour of the sun of this world as to lose the power to see into the inner world of your spirit, and behold the brighter sun that can make all glorious there." Markland bent his head, and for a little while a feeling of sadness oppressed him.