And a sudden longing came over Joan. Might not comfort be found here?
She turned over a few pages slowly. Here and there a light pencil-mark drew attention to a particular passage—George’s doing again.
“A VERY PRESENT HELP IN TROUBLE.”
Joan did not see the words, but they came into her mind. She turned at once to the 46th Psalm.
“‘God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.’”
Was not that enough?
At all events, Joan went no farther. She sat looking at the words, which seemed to grow in strength and beauty as she gazed, and once more the dark eyes filled and overflowed. Joan closed the book, and knelt down just where she had been standing.
“O God, I am in such trouble; please, please help me, for Jesus Christ’s sake,” she sobbed.
No simpler prayer could well have been uttered; but more was not needed. Again and again she repeated the pleading words; and a strange sweet sense of coming help crept over her.
“Will he help me? I think he will. I do think he will,” murmured Joan, kneeling still, but looking up.