"Well," said Uncle Ruthven, "there is another big, strong fellow whom you have put in mind of his duty. He had an inkling of it before, but I must say he was not very willing to see it."
"Ruthven!" exclaimed his wife, "you do not mean you are going to that dreadful place to pass the night!"
"I do not see that Maggie and Bessie have left me any choice," he answered, smiling, and sitting down on the steps beside her, "at least not if being a big, strong fellow makes it one's duty to go."
"Oh, Uncle Ruthven!" said Maggie, "we never meant you."
"Perhaps not, Maggie; but the shoe fits, so I think I must put it on."
"Is there no one we could find to do it if they were well paid?" said his wife, pleadingly.
"I expect to be well paid, love," he said in a low tone and with another smile. "I shall have all the reward I can ask."
Little Bessie was standing at Mrs. Stanton's knee, twisting one over another her aunt's soft, white fingers, and as her uncle spoke she looked up brightly.
"We know what he means, don't we, dear Aunt Bessie? He means the cup of cold water given in Jesus' name shall have its reward. I think Uncle Ruthven is taking up a jewel."
"Thank you, darling," said Aunt Bessie, with a quiver in her voice.