AS the travelers walked up to the house, eager eyes were watching, and the moment they caught sight of the expected visitors, there was an immediate rush to the door, so that there was no need for hand to be raised to the knocker. True it was, indeed, that a warm welcome awaited the returned emigrants.
Emmie's aunt received her with a loving embrace, and there in the background, not being quite so nimble as in years gone by, was Elizabeth's aged mother coming to meet her. What a meeting that was for all, but for the mother and the long-lost daughter, none can depict it. If these are some of the meetings on earth, what must they be above? Brethren and kindred from every shore will meet in yonder haven. There will be the meetings with no bitter partings:
“In heaven above, where all is love,
There'll be no parting there.”
After the meeting of mother and daughter, the little one was freed from her aunt's embrace, only to be hugged more closely by her aged grandparent. Emmie could not understand it all. Everything was delightful. After having been so recently with rough Betsy Cranstone, she could never picture anything half so sunny as her grandmother's face, with its snowy curls, and beaming eyes looking down on her so kindly and lovingly. For a moment the child thought of the steerage, where her mother had so recently taken her, where the nine poor squalid children had made such a din that almost deafened her, and at the moment of this vision, her aunt took her to a nursery, a room specially prepared for her, as her aunt had no little ones of her own. Such beautiful little dresses, &c., were exposed to her view. There was every comfort, such as Emmie had not known before. And when her kind aunt took her to the dining room, little Emmie thought she was in fairyland. Such wonderful things, and such lovely flowers. Once the little one was lost, and her grandmother found her lying in one of the sideboard shelves, saying, "This is like being aboard ship.”
How much all had to tell of when the evening meal was over. How thankful were they to sit around that hearth once more, and not only from one heart that night, but from mother, son and daughters did that favorite hymn of Elizabeth's come to remembrance:
“We'll praise Him for all that is past,
And trust Him for all that's to come.”
Surely all had enough to praise Him for, and abundant proof, too, that He is worthy of all our praise and worthy of all our trust.
“Worthy of homage and of praise,
Worthy by all to be adored;
Exhaustless strains of heavenly lays,
Thou, Thou art worthy, Jesus Lord!”