'Seventeen and three months.'
'Ay, well, you look your age and more. You'd pass for twenty, but no wonder; and'—
'I wish you would not talk so much, uncle; it will excite and exhaust you,' she said, in gentle remonstrance.
'I must talk, if my time is short. Suppose I'm taken, what will you do with yourself, eh?'
'The way will open up for me, I do not doubt; there must be a corner for me somewhere,' she said bravely; nevertheless, her young cheek blanched, and she shivered slightly as she glanced round the place—poor enough, perhaps, but which at least afforded her a peaceful and comfortable home. These signs were not unnoticed by the dying man, and a faint, slow, melancholy smile gathered about his haggard mouth.
'You believe, I suppose, that the Lord will provide for you?' he said grimly.
'Yes, I do.'
'Does He never fail, eh?'
'Never. He does not always provide just as we expect or desire, but provision is made all the same,' answered the girl, and her eyes shone with a steadfast light.
'It's a very comfortable doctrine, but not practicable, nor, to my thinking, honest. Do you mean to say that it is right to sit down with folded hands waiting for the Lord to provide, and living off other people at the same time?'