"Aye, he be a kind elder brother, ain't he? As has sought an' found ye, an' taken ye away from the mire an' misery," said Job. "Beg your pardon, sir, 'tis a way I have o' lookin' at things as pictures like."
"I think it is the Bible way, Mr. Kippis."
"An' she be happy in her new home, eh?" said Job smilingly.
"They 's ever so kind," said Lettie, hanging her head and speaking low. "But I've got to be a lady, an' tis so hard, an' I don't know how."
"Hard to be a lady, ain't it?" said Job. "'Cause ye wasn't bred up to it, no more ye wasn't. An' yon parson, for all his love to ye, can't change your nature sudden-like. Ye'll fit in by and by. Don't I mean that when I says sometimes the Lord 'ud put me in a palace, if 'twas good for me, but I wouldn't be over happy in it. Sure I haven't got palace tastes, nor palace ways,—an' little Lettie's in a grand house, and she haven't got grand house tastes, nor ways neither, eh?"
"She will learn all that by and by," said Leveson, stroking her head. "But I think Lettie's difficulty makes another picture for you if you want one. Do you see it?"
"Sure an' I do, sir. Why, if a man was took right to heaven, without learnin' to have heaven's tastes, he wouldn't be a bit happier nor fitter nor better off than old Job Kippis in the Queen's palace. What'd he care for the singin' praises to God, and livin' for His service, and lookin' into His glory, an' doin' His will? It's dull work he'd find it all,—lest he had the love of God in his heart, sir, an' his sinful nature washed an' fitted for heaven. Ain't it that you meant?"
"Just that," said Leveson. "But very few men realize it, or know that to be taken to heaven, unfitted for heaven's work and glory, would be no boon. As well take a blind man to see beautiful scenery, or a deaf man to hear sweet music, as talk of a man who is deaf and blind to God's love and beauty, finding any happiness in heaven. But you—" Leveson went on after a moment's break,—"you, I trust, are no longer deaf and blind. Heaven will not be to you what our home, with all our efforts, must for a time be to little Lettie."
"Aye, sir, an' I don't think that the river Jordan's far distant neither," said Job. "No, I'm noways loath to go,—save for leavin' little Ailie tossin' about with no one to take pity on her. But I think ye'll be a friend to the poor little lamb, sir."
