"'But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal:'"
"'For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.'"
Mr. Harding moved uneasily. He heard nothing of the remainder of the chapter, and he started when Mousey asked—
"Shall I read some more, Cousin Robert?"
"No, that will do for to-night," he answered.
She was about to return her Bible to John Monday when the old man stopped her. Going to his secretaire, he unlocked one of the under drawers and drew therefrom a small leather-covered volume, the pages yellow with age, which he placed in John Monday's hands.
"You can keep it, if you like," he said; "I've had it lying there for many a long year, and you may as well have it."
"Thank you—thank you—sir!" the boy said, stammering with astonishment.
"You've no reason to thank me," Mr. Harding responded curtly. "The Bible was mine when I was a boy, but I've no use for it nowadays."
The words were ungracious enough to chill anyone; but John Monday and Mousey exchanged pleased glances notwithstanding. The former was glad to possess a Bible of his own, and the latter was delighted to have hers back again.