“What now, mother? You scare me!”
And the answer was, presently, “Oh, Tirzah, the poor are dead! He is dead!”
“Who, mother?”
“Your brother! They took everything from him—everything—even this house!”
“Poor!” said Tirzah, vacantly.
“He will never be able to help us.”
“And then, mother?”
“To-morrow—to-morrow, my child, we must find a seat by the wayside, and beg alms as the lepers do; beg, or—”
Tirzah leaned upon her again, and said, whispering, “Let us—let us die!”
“No!” the mother said, firmly. “The Lord has appointed our times, and we are believers in the Lord. We will wait on him even in this. Come away!”