"We shall arrive, 'God willing,' about the end of March, as we sail by the Sardinia on the 15th; but you will get a telegram from Liverpool when we land," wrote their father.
John could understand that "God willing" better now than he did when they went away; for he had taken that "will of God" as the one object of his life.
It might be—it would be—with many failures, but "What wilt Thou?" was now his one question, and to do it his one desire.
Of strong character, with a will which was difficult to curb, he found it an inexpressible comfort to yield to One who was so strong, that there could not be a question of His power; and when once the great surrender had been made, he walked along holding the guiding hand with tender love and reverence.
One morning, just as Agnes and her sisters were sitting down to lessons, a telegram was brought in by the new maid, whom Agnes had found and installed more than a month before.
"We are in Liverpool, and hope to reach you about five o'clock," it said.
Minnie and Alice got up and jumped round the room as the only suitable expression of their feelings; and as for Agnes, her thankfulness was quiet, but too deep for words.
"May I rush in and tell grandmamma?" exclaimed Alice, when her wild capers had come at last to a stop.
When she saw that Agnes gave permission, she snatched up the telegram and was off in an instant.
"I don't believe she'll wait for her hat and jacket," said Minnie, acting policeman.