The morning after John Ward's return from his two weeks' absence at General Assembly, he found it hard to settle down to work.

Not that there was very much to talk about, for daily letters had told of daily doings, but to be with Helen again was an absorbing joy.

She followed him about as he put his papers away, and he, in turn, came out into the garden to watch her while she showed Alfaretta where to plant some flower seeds.
"Come over here," Helen said, "and see these violets under the big elm! I have been so in hopes they would blossom in time to welcome you.

Let's pick some for the study." They pushed the shining, wet leaves aside, and found the flowers, and then John watched his wife put them in a shallow dish on his table.
"It is weak in me to come in here," Helen said, smiling.

"I know you ought to work, yet here I sit." "This is Thursday," he answered, "and I wrote my sermon on the train yesterday, so after I have copied the reports I can afford to be lazy.