Mr. Forbes turned toward him indifferently and held out his hand. He realized that this call was obligatory. He had been paying for it yearly.
As the two men sat down the minister coughed a little, then he folded his hands meekly—his host knew what was coming.
"I trust that you have become reconciled to this separation, dear Brother Forbes," he began solemnly, "and that you can say in your heart 'The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord.'"
Duncan Forbes did not answer for the space of a minute, during which time his pastor watched him furtively from under his eyebrows.
"My son was my all," he muttered finally. "It is for his sake alone that I have lived and labored—that by the sweat of my brow I have accumulated my fortune."
The minister sighed with unaffected sympathy.
"Yet God in His mercy has taken him from you. He who seeth the end from the beginning knew what was best, dear brother, for your soul's salvation."
"But of what use is my life now?" questioned Mr. Forbes sharply. "I am a broken reed with no ambition to lean upon. A man whose heart has been plucked by its roots from my body. Is there anything in our religion which can solace me, do you think? Is there a recompense for the sufferings of a heartbroken father?"
"There is balm for every wound, Brother Forbes, if we seek it. Others have suffered your loss and been able to find it."
Duncan Forbes sat back in his chair and stared straight before him. The words had brought to his mind unpleasant visions.