“Oh, but I had washed them, madam, before I knew,” answered Millicent regretfully.
“Well, I hope you had,” answered Lady Fisher, “seeing there lay nine years betwixt. Heigh ho! time runs away, and we with it. Seems pity, doesn’t it!”
“Depends on where we’re running to,” replied Tom, who had entered unseen. “Children that’s running home, when they know their father’s got a fine present for them, isn’t commonly feared of getting there too soon.”
“But how if folks don’t know, Tom?” suggested Jenny, and Millicent’s eyes reflected her query.
“My dear,” answered Tom humbly, “it’s not for the likes of me to speak afore such as her Ladyship. But I know what my dear old Uncle Anthony was wont to say: ‘The only way to be certain you’re on the way Home is to make sure that you are going to your Father; and to do that you must go with Him.’ And I doubt if he’d speak different, now that he’s got Home.”
“Ay, I suppose we would all like to have God go with us,” said Lady Fisher gravely.
“Madam, saving your presence, Uncle was used to say there’s a many would like vastly well to have God go with them, that isn’t half so ready to get up and go with God. David spake well when he said, ‘Make Thy way plain before my face.’ The Lord’s way is the sure and safe way, and ’tis the only one that leads Home.”
“I think, Jenny, you are a happy woman,” said Lady Fisher, an hour later, as she took her leave. Tom had gone back to his work-shed. “Good night; God be with you.”
“I am that, Madam, the Lord be praised,” answered Jenny. “But the Lord is to be praised for it, for I’ve done nought all my life but make mistakes, until He took hold of me and put me right.”