"Alone! I had my Master's presence."
Annie looked up, but she could not face his smile. Her head sank anew.
"There was the battling for awhile—not easy, but close to His side. I seem to have reached beyond the battling lately—to a quiet spot. One of His green pastures, I suppose. He gives rest when it is needful. But my child need not go through all that I went through. It is not necessary. That dread is over now. Mr. Rawdon was mistaken. I have no fear."
"He said so," she whispered.
"No fear, and no expectation. For some weeks I did expect it,—to be called Home by a fiery chariot. Not now. I think it will not be—that!"
She might have read his full meaning, but she did not, wrapped up as she was in the one dread.
He lifted Annie's face between his hands, and kissed it.
"Now, my little woman, we must obey orders. It does not take very much to bring on irregular action of the heart, and I had better not risk another attack of breathlessness. We have talked long enough on sad subjects. Try to forget what you have heard, and leave all in the hands of One who knows what is best for us. I want you to put those rose buds in water, or the poor little things will die. Then you shall tell me about your class, and about Nancy Dunn."
Annie rose at once to obey. Somehow she seemed to catch a reflection of her father's calm. She knew that she must keep up, for his sake.