Susan was silent. Emma had spoken words to which something within bore witness as truth, and she knew not what to say. Emma, too, lay musing for some time; and then raising her head, and resting it upon her hand, she said: "How wonderfully self-denying Jesus was, Miss Sliver. Nobody appreciated the Saviour when he was upon earth, not even the disciples; yet this was nothing to him, for he did not seek his own glory. He went cheerfully about his Father's work, never thinking of himself, and never feeling himself degraded by the presence of a poor, sick, sinful multitude."
"I know it," said Susan, thoughtfully; "but the world will never see another Jesus, Miss Lindsay."
"O, it will, it will," replied Emma, with animation. "When human hearts are willing to let his Spirit dwell in them, human hands will do the work which Jesus did; and so his kingdom will come, and the world will see and acknowledge their King."
A shrill blast from a horn, at the farm-house across the brook, now interrupted their conversation.
"It is time for me to go home," said Susan; "but I shall not consent to leave you to climb that hill again today—you must go to our house, and stay until you are rested."
This kind decision of manner, so unlike anything she had before seen in Susan Sliver, quite interested Emma. She did not feel averse to a further acquaintance, and taking her arm they crossed the rustic bridge, and were soon at the farm-house. An elderly man, wearing a Quaker hat, had just entered, and Emma heard him talking to a good-looking old lady, who, both warm and tired, was vehemently beating a minute pudding. "Thee looks tired, Sarah; where are the girls?"
"Can't say where Susan is," was the reply. "Margaret is up stairs, sewing."
"Well, there is a time for everything, and the girls are old enough to know it; but here comes Susan. Come, Susan, thee ought to be helping thy mother these hot days; but who is this friend?"
"Mrs. Lindsay's daughter," said Susan.
Emma might have saved her graceful courtesy this time; for the old gentleman did not return it by taking off his broad-brimmed hat: yet she felt the sincere politeness of his manner, as, offering his hand, he said, "I am glad to see thee, child; how is thy mother?"