92
THREE HUNDRED
"Amazement! Was that the voice of his father—was this the good Valentine Harley that now assisted him to rise—and who were those approaching him—was it his darling wife, and was that smiling boy his own son, his little Edgar!"
"You have been asleep, I find, my dear husband," said the gentle Ophelia, "and a happy sleep it has been for me, for us all. See, here is a letter which makes it unnecessary for you to leave home."
"And is this reality?—do I indeed hold thee to my heart once more, my Ophelia—oh, my father, what a dream!"
