Wait, for the day is breaking,
Tho' the dull night be long,
Wait, Heav'n is not forsaking
Thy heart—be strong! be strong!
—Anon.

As the time approached when Claudia might reasonably expect a reply to the letter she had written to her father, she naturally became very anxious.

Would he answer that last urgent appeal by letter or in person? that was the question she was forever asking of herself.

And the response of her heart was always the same; he would lose no time in writing, he would hasten at once to her relief.

Ah! but if he should be ill, or—even dead? What then? Claudia's anxiety grew daily more acute.

She had heard nothing of the fate of her negroes. She learned by a second letter from Jean Murdock that Mrs. Dugald still remained at Castle Cragg, "lording it o'er a'," as the housekeeper expressed it. And she saw by the "Times" that Malcolm, Viscount Vincent, had filed a petition for divorce from his viscountess. That was all.

The fourth week had nearly gone by when one morning, on coming to the breakfast table, Claudia found lying beside her plate a foreign letter.

At the very first glance at its superscription she recognized her father's firm handwriting, and with an irrepressible cry of joy she snatched it up.

It was the short letter Judge Merlin had hastily penned on the eve of his journey to Washington. It merely stated that he had just that instant taken her letters from the post office; and that, in order to save the immediately outgoing mail, he answered them without leaving the office, to announce to her that he should sail for England on the "Oceana," that would leave Boston on the following Wednesday. And then, with strong expressions of indignation against Lord Vincent, sorrow for Claudia's troubles, and affection for herself, the letter closed.

"Oh, Berenice, Berenice! I am so happy; so very happy!" exclaimed Claudia wildly. "My father has written to me! he is well! he is coming! he is coming! he will be here in a few days! in a very few days! for this letter was written in the post office, to save the very last mail that came by the steamer immediately preceding the 'Oceana'! Oh, Berenice, I could cry with joy!"

"I congratulate you with all my heart, dear Claudia. Yes, I should think your father would now be here in two or three days, at farthest," said Lady Hurstmonceux.

"And oh, how shall I get ovor the interval? Ah, Berenice, indulge me! Let us go down, to Liverpool to meet my father!"

"My dear, I would do so in a moment, only I think it the worst plan you could pursue. In your circumstances, dearest Claudia, we must not go journeying through the country. We must live very quietly. And besides, though the 'Oceana' may reasonably be expected in two or three days, there is no reason in the world why she might not arrive to-day, or to-night. In which case, by going down to Liverpool, we shall be most likely to miss your father, who would be steaming up here."

"Certainly, certainly! I see the reasonableness of your views; but how, then, shall I get over the intervening time?"

"I might propose for you excursions to many interesting places in the vicinity of Edinboro' which you have not seen; but that we must not go far from home, while expecting Judge Merlin. We must not happen to be absent when your father arrives."

"Oh, no! we must not risk such a thing, I know. Well, I will wait as patiently as I can."

"And I will tell you what you may do, meantime. To-day you shall superintend in person the preparation of a suite of rooms for your father. You shall let my housekeeper into the secret of all his little tastes, and they shall be considered in the arrangements. That will occupy one day. To-morrow, you know, is Sunday, and we must go to church. That will occupy the second. The next day, Monday, we will make our weekly round among the poor. That will occupy the third day, to the exclusion of everything else. For if there is one employment more than another that will make us forget our personal anxieties, it is ministering to the wants of others. And, in all human probability, before Monday evening Judge Merlin will be here."

"Yes, yes! Oh, my dear father! I can scarcely realize that I shall see him so soon," said Claudia, with emotion.

The countess' programme was carried out. Claudia spent that day in superintending the arrangements of a handsome suite of rooms for her father.

On Sunday they went to church. But the text was an unfortunate one for Claudia's spirits. It was taken from James iv. 13: "Ye know not what shall be on the morrow." And the subject of the discourse was on the vanity of human expectations and the uncertainty of human destiny. Claudia returned home greatly depressed; but that depression soon yielded to the cheerfulness of Lady Hurstmonceux's manner.

On Monday they made their rounds among the poor; and Claudia forgot her anxieties and felt happy in the happiness she saw dispensed around her.

Yes, the programme of the countess was carried out, but her previsions were not realized. Judge Merlin did not come that evening, nor on the next morning, nor on the next evening.

On Wednesday morning Claudia, as usual, seized the "Times" as soon as it was brought in, and turned eagerly to the telegraphic column. But there was no arrival from America. Glancing farther down the column, she suddenly grew pale and exclaimed:

"Oh, Berenice!"

"What is it, dear?" inquired the countess.

Claudia read aloud the paragraph that had alarmed her:

"The 'Oceana' is now several days overdue. Serious apprehensions are entertained for her safety."

"Do not be alarmed, my dear. At this season of the year the steamers are frequently delayed beyond their usual time of arrival," said the countess, with a cheerfulness that she was very far from really feeling.

"But if there should have been an accident!"

"My dear, that line of steamers has never had an accident. And their good fortune is not the effect of luck, but of the great care bestowed by the company and its officers upon the safety of those who trust to them their lives and goods. Reassure yourself, Claudia."

But that was easier said than done. Three or four more of anxious days and nights passed, during which Claudia watched the papers for the arrival of the ocean steamers; but all in vain, until the Saturday morning of that week, when, as usual, she opened the "Times" and turned to the telegraphic column.

She could scarcely repress the cry of anguish that arose to her lips on reading the following:

"Arrival of the ocean steamers. The screw propeller 'Superior,' with
New York mails of the 15th, has reached Queenstown. On the Banks of
Newfoundland she passed the wreck of a large steamer, supposed to be
the 'Oceana.'"

"Oh, Berenice! Oh, Berenice! Can this be true? Oh! Speak a word of hope or comfort to me!" cried Claudia, wringing her hands in the extremity of mental agony.

"My dear, let us still hope for the best. There is no certainty that it is the wreck of the 'Oceana.' There is no certainty that the 'Oceana' is wrecked at all. She is delayed; that is all which is known. And that is often the case with the ocean steamers at this season of the year, as I told you before," said the countess, trying to inspire Claudia with a hope that she herself scarcely dared to indulge.

But Claudia's face was drawn with anguish.

"Oh, the suspense, the terrible agony of suspense! It is worse than death!" she cried.

The countess essayed to comfort her, but in vain.

All that day, and for many succeeding ones, Claudia was like a victim stretched upon the rack. The torture of uncertainty was harder to endure than any certainty; it was, as she said, "worse than death," worse than despair! Some two weeks passed away, during which her very breath of life seemed almost suspended in the agony of hope that could not die.

At length one morning, on descending to the breakfast parlor, she found Lady Hurstmonceux reading the "Times."

"Any news?" inquired Claudia, in a faint voice.

The countess looked up. Claudia read the expression of her face, which seemed to say, prepare for good news.

"Oh, yes, there is! there is!" exclaimed Claudia, suddenly snatching the paper, and turning to the telegraphic column, and then, with a cry of joy, sinking into her seat.

"Let me read it to you, my dear, you are incapable of doing so," said Berenice, gently taking the paper from her hand and reading aloud the following paragraph:

"News of the 'Oceana.'—The Oriental and Peninsular Steam Packet Company's ship 'Albatross' has arrived at Liverpool, bringing all the passengers and crew of the 'Oceana,' wrecked on the banks of Newfoundland. They were picked up by the 'Santiago,' bound for Havana, and taken to that port, whence they sailed by the 'Cadiz' for the port of Cadiz, whence lastly they were brought by the 'Albatross' to Liverpool. Among the passengers saved were Chief Justice Merlin of the United States Supreme Court, Ishmael Worth, Esquire, a distinguished member of the Washington bar, and Professor Erasmus Kerr, of the Glasgow University. The shipwrecked passengers have all arrived in good health and spirits, and have already dispersed to their various destinations."

"This is too much joy! Oh, Berenice, it is too much joy!" cried
Claudia, bursting into tears and throwing herself into the arms of
Lady Hurstmonceux, and weeping freely on the sympathetic bosom of
that faithful friend.

"Claudia, dear," whispered that gentle lady, "go to your room and shut yourself in, and kneel and return thanks to God for this his great mercy. And so shall your spirits be calmed and strengthened."

Claudia ceased weeping, kissed her kind monitress, and went and complied with her counsel. And very fervent was the thanksgiving that went up to Heaven from her relieved and grateful heart. She had finished her prayers and had arisen from her knees and was sitting by her writing-table indulging in a reverie of anticipation, when a bustle below stairs attracted her attention.

She listened.

Yes, it was the noise of an arrival!

With a joyous presentiment of what had come to the house, Claudia rushed out of the room and down the stairs to the lower entrance hall, and the next moment found herself clasped to the bosom of her father.

For a few moments neither spoke. The embrace was a fervent, earnest, but silent one.

The judge was the first to break the spell.

"Oh, my child! my child! Thank God that I find you alive and well!" he exclaimed, in a broken voice.

"Oh, my father, my dear, dear father!" began Claudia; but she broke down, burst into tears, and wept upon his bosom.

He held her there, soothing her with loving words and tender caresses, as he had been accustomed to do when she was but a child coming to him with her childish troubles. When Claudia had exhausted her passion of tears, she looked up and said:

"But, papa, you have not been in the drawing room yet? You hare not seen Lady Hurstmonceux?"

"No, my dear, I have but just arrived. Claudia, immediately upon my landing I took the first train north, and reached Edinboro' this morning. I sent my party on to Magruder's Hotel and took a fly and drove immediately out here. I have but just been admitted to the house and sent my card in to the hostess. And, ah, I see that my messenger has returned."

A servant in livery came up, bowed, and said:

"My lady directs me to say to you, sir, that she will see you immediately in the drawing room, unless you would prefer to go first to the apartments which are prepared for you, sir."

The judge hesitated, and then turned to his daughter and whispered the inquiry:

"How do I look, Claudia? Presentable?"

Lady Vincent ran her eyes over the traveler and answered:

"Not at all presentable, papa. You look just as one might expect you to do—black with smoke and dust and cinders, as if you had traveled in the train all night."

"Which of course I did."

"And I think you would be all the better for a visit to your rooms, papa. Come, I will show you the way, for I am as much at home here as ever I was at dear old Tanglewood. James," she said, turning to the footman who had brought the message, "you need not wait. I will show my papa his rooms; but you may order breakfast for him, for I dare say he has had none. Come, papa!"

And so saying Claudia marshaled her father upstairs to the handsome suite of apartments that had been made ready for him. When he had renovated his toilet, he declared himself ready to go below and be presented to his hostess. Claudia conducted him downstairs and into "my lady's little drawing room."