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"In this dim world of clouding cares We rarely know, till 'wildered eyes See white wings lessening up the skies, The angels with us unawares. · · · · · · "Strange glory streams through life's wild rents, And through the open door of death We see the heaven that beckoneth To the beloved going hence." Gerald Massey. |
"Read me the twenty-third Psalm," said Miss Henderson.
It was the evening before the day fixed upon by her physicians for the surgical operation she had decided to submit to.
Faith was in her place by the bedside, her hand resting in that of her aunt. Mr. Armstrong sat near—an open Bible before him. Miss Sampson had gone down the field for a "snatch of air."
Clear upon the stillness fell the sacred words of cheer. There was a strong, sure gladness in the tone that uttered them, that told they were born anew, in the breathing, from a heart that had proved the goodness and mercy of the Lord.
In a solemn gladness, also, two other hearts received them, and said, silently, Amen!
"Now the fourteenth of St. John."
"'In my father's house are many mansions.' 'I will dwell in the house of the Lord, forever.' Yes. It holds us all. Under one roof. One family—whatever happens! Now, put away the book, and come here; you two!"
It was done; and Roger Armstrong and Faith Gartney stood up, side by side, before her.
"I haven't said so before, because I wouldn't set people troubling beforehand. But in my own mind, I'm pretty sure of what's coming. And if I hadn't felt so all along, I should now. When the Lord gives us our last earthly wish, and the kind of peace comes over that seems as if it couldn't be disturbed by anything, any more, we may know, by the hush of it, that the day is done. I'm going to bid you good night, Faith, and send you home. Say your prayers, and thank God, for yourself and for me. Whatever you hear of me, to-morrow, take it for good news; for it will be good. Roger Armstrong! Take care of the child! Child! love your husband; and trust in him; for you may!"