"It is shabby, though," observed Rebecca, glancing at the plain black volume which lay on a shelf; "you might any ways have it new bound,—you should think of the look of the thing."
"It is in good repair," said Mrs. White; "I am quite contented with my Bible as it is."
Rebecca gave a little meaning nod of her head, as if to say, "I care more for the Bible than you do, though everybody thinks you a saint."
Nothing more, however, passed on the subject; and the guest soon afterwards took her departure.
Agnes, with her thoughtful black eyes fixed upon the old Bible, sat for a while in silence, turning over in her young mind the conversation that had passed between her mother and their neighbour.
"What is my quiet little lassie dreaming about?" asked Mrs. White, who was clearing away the tea things.
"Mother," replied Agnes slowly, "I was thinking over what Rebecca Burton said about Mrs. Miles, and your Bible which looks so old. You and she didn't seem to feel alike. Is it not right, dear mother, to care for the look of the thing?"
"It is right to care something for appearances, but a great deal more for realities," quietly observed Mrs. White.
"I do not understand you at all," said Agnes; "is it not a good thing, mother, to give to the poor, to go to church; and to honour the Holy Bible?"
"A very good thing, my child, if done not to win the praise of men, but from the motive of love to God."