“God bless you, child, that you are glad to hear it. Yes, it is true. He is yet a wanderer on earth, and penitent.”
“Is he very far away? Shall I ever see him?”
“Not very far away. But ask no more just now.”
They walked on until a fertile valley lay before them.
Close by was a small farm; other homesteads were scattered about not far off.
The old man slung his sack over his shoulder.
“Shall I never see you again?” asked the girl, her eyes filling with tears.
“You like me, then?”
“I love you. Every one loves and blesses you. If I had a father, I should wish him to be like you.”
“But—I am only a beggar.”