"Never! You have been one of the best husbands that ever lived."
She could not longer keep back her tears—they rolled down her cheeks, and fell, drop by drop, on her apron.
"I must go to the house," she said; "who knows but what Mrs. Allen is all alone. I feel as if I had been hard-hearted in not going before."
"You'd better go," he answered. "Yes; it's your duty."
"I thought of asking you to go with me, if you don't mind. I should have more courage with you by my side."
Mr. Thrasher was silent for a moment, then he said:
"Yes; we will go to-morrow morning."
They put the subject aside; nor was it again resumed. The chapter in the Bible was read, the prayer was uttered—no trouble could make those hearts forget that duty—and, in their affliction, they only turned more earnestly toward the help and comfort of their whole lives.
The next morning, when breakfast was over, and the work for the forenoon arranged, the husband and wife took their way down the hill toward Mrs. Allen's house, keeping close together, as if great comfort lay in that silent companionship.
When they reached the gate, both paused, looking, anxiously at each other; when Mr. Thrasher saw the pale trouble which agitated his wife, he tried to say a few comforting words, but they broke on his lips.