"For repairs! I do not understand."
"Read that, then," and Joe handed him a letter, all soiled with tears.
"It's from Jean herself."
It took Douglas but a few minutes to read the scrawl, and grasp the meaning. It told of failure in the city, and that she was coming home to the care of her parents. It was easy for Douglas to read between the lines, and he knew that more was contained there than appeared on the surface.
"She's coming to-morrow," the old man moaned. "My Jean coming home for repairs!" His body shook from the vehemence of his emotion, and tears rolled down his cheeks.
"Perhaps she is only sick, and needs home care," Douglas soothed, though in his heart he well knew it was worse than that.
Joe made no reply, but sat very still looking straight before him. His eyes were fixed upon the picture of the Good Shepherd saving the wandering lamb. A struggle was evidently going on in his mind, and it seemed that he needed that scene to help him. At length he rose slowly from the bench, and turned toward a door on the right.
"We will have service now," he quietly remarked. "We would consider it an honour to have you join us."
Douglas followed him through the kitchen into a little room beyond, where Mrs. Benton was sitting rocking herself in a splint-bottom chair. She arose as they entered, and held out her hand to the visitor. She was a small woman, dressed in plain clothes. But Douglas had eyes only for her face which, though wrinkled and care-worn, bore an expression of great sweetness, and her eyes shone with loving sympathy. She had been weeping, but she hastily brushed away her tears with the corner of her apron, as she bade the stranger welcome and offered him a chair.
On a little table rested two well-worn volumes, a Bible and a Prayer Book. Here the shoe-maker took his stand and reverently began to read the service. His voice was low, though distinct, and he seemed to feel deeply every word he uttered. Never had Douglas been so impressed by any service. He knew how the hearts of these two people were bleeding, and yet here they were taking their sorrow to the Master and laying it at His feet.
"Would you mind reading the lesson?" Joe asked, handing Douglas the opened Bible. "That is the chapter," and he placed his finger upon the page. "My eyes seem a bit dim of late."