All shall be well if Thou art mine!”
The girls’ hasty tap silenced the hymn, and a kind voice bade them come in. The inside of the cottage was clean and neat, but its appearance bespoke great poverty. The clock, which had once merrily ticked on the white-washed wall, was gone from its place; there was no arm-chair by the side of the fire; and many a treasured family piece of old china had disappeared from the wooden shelf. A pale, sickly-looking woman lay upon the bed, which was now almost the sole furniture of the little abode. Her countenance appeared worn with pain and with want; yet it still bore a peaceful, hopeful expression.
“May we wait here a little, till the shower is over?” said Priscilla, as she entered the cottage.
“Most heartily welcome,” replied Bertha. “I was rather inclined just now to feel sorry at the rain falling, as I suffer a good deal from the damp; but I was wrong, for it has brought me two visitors to-day, and that is a real pleasure in this lonely place.”
“I am afraid that you are very poorly,” said Lucy, approaching her kindly.
“I am quite laid up at present with rheumatism, my dear, and have been so for the last six weeks. I can scarcely rise from my bed.”
“What a misery to have to lie so long on your bed!” cried Priscilla, who had known something of illness.
“What a mercy to have a good bed to lie on!” replied the sufferer, with a patient smile.
“But you will recover before long, and be able to work again,” said Lucy, with kind interest in her looks.
“I hope so, if it please God,” answered Bertha.