Gerald spoke gravely and calmly. He had been brought up to trust in God, and to have faith in His goodness. His words, young as he was, seemed to have a cheering effect on Mr. Crane.
"You're right, Gerald," he said, "and I'll try to believe things are comin' out right, though I can't see how."
"Why did you leave the house so soon, Mr. Crane? I thought you would have a long conversation with your sister and Abel."
"I thought so, too, but Melindy didn't seem to hanker much after my company. About fifteen minutes after you went out, she said: 'I shall have to leave you, as I have an errand in the village. Perhaps Abel will stay with you?'"
"'No, I can't,' said Abel. 'I'm going to play ball with some of the boys.'"
Gerald smiled.
"None of the boys have invited Abel to play ball. They don't like him."
"Well, it don't make no difference. He wouldn't have been any company to me. It's strange that you seem a good deal nearer to me than my own kin."
"I am very glad of that. I wish I were in a position to help you."
"Perhaps you will be some day. If there's anything crooked about that will of your pa's, it'll come out right some time. Well, when Melindy and Abel had left me I thought I'd go out and take a walk. I strayed down to the lake and saw you rowing. I made bold to call to you. Would you mind my trying the oars to see if I've forgot how to row?"