opening sky; 'it's like a great sea--a sea o' buttercups, same as
used to grow in owd Whittam's field when yo' couldn't see grass
for flaars.'

'Yi, lass, I see,' sobbed Mrs. Stott.

'And thoose claads, mother! See yo' haa they're goin'. And th'
hills and moors? Why I con see them plainer and plainer! Haa grond
they are! They're awlus theer. Them, Mr. Penrose said, stood for
God's love, didn't he, mother?--and them claads as are lifting for
my sins.'

'Yi, lass; he did, forsure.'

The dawn advanced, and before its majestic march there fled the
shadows of night that for such long hours had made earth desolate.
In the light of this dawn were seen those infinite lines of
strength which rose from broad and massive bases, and, sweeping
upwards, told of illimitable tracts beyond--mighty waves on the
surface of the world's great inland seas, on whose crests sat the
green and purple foam of herbage, and in whose hollows lay the
still life of home and pasture. Silent, changeless, secure,
perpetual sublimity rested on their summits, and unbroken repose
lay along their graceful sweeps. They were the joy-bearers to the
poor child of sorrow, who with eager eye looked out on their
morning revelations. To her the mountains had brought peace.

That day was a new day to Amanda--a birthday--a day in which she
realized the all-embracing strength and sufficiency of a Divine
love. As the hours advanced the clouds gathered and showers fell,