"A very poor prospect for Salome," Aunt Anna said; "still, it is something that the Percivals are a good old family."
"A greater comfort still," rejoined Dr. Wilton, "is that Percival is one of the best and noblest of men. May our daughters be equally fortunate."
So we leave Salome standing on the threshold of her great happiness. Patience has had her perfect work in the days of her girlhood. Will she need it no more in the womanhood which is dawning upon her with the soft, sweet radiance of a faithful heart on which she may rest?
Yes; Patience, that fair and beautiful angel, with its calm, sedate presence, will be needed for Salome as for us all through every stage of the journey. When the gates of love open for us, and we enter into what seems an Eden, we know that there are thorns amongst the flowers, rough places to tread, sharp angles to meet. Salome will take Patience with her, nor leave her gentle guidance till she comes to the Paradise of God. For there are no crosses to bear and no imperfect work to mourn, no sin to be hid in secret places, no sorrow, nor any more pain. The former things have passed away, and Patience, having had her perfect work, is exchanged for the rest of those who have fought the good fight, and bear the palms of victory in their hands through Him who has redeemed us to God by His death, and given to His faithful ones the life everlasting.
"Safe home! safe home in port!
Rent cordage, shattered deck,
Torn sails, provisions short,
And only not a wreck:
But oh! the joy upon the shore
To tell our voyage-perils o'er!"
"The prize! the prize secure!
The athlete nearly fell;
Bore all he could endure,
And bore not always well:
But he may smile at troubles gone
Who sets the victor's garland on."