“I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth,” and so on to the end.
“The Lord redeemeth the soul of His servants, and none of them that trust in Him shall be desolate.”
“He believes it all,” said Allison Bain to herself, lifting once again her sad eyes to his face. And then they sang:
“Oh! God of Bethel, by whose hand
Thy people still are fed—”
which was their family song of thanksgiving, as it was of many another family in those days, on all special occasions for rejoicing. It was the mother who led the singing with a voice which, in after years, when her sons were scattered in many lands, they remembered as “the sweetest ever heard.” The father sang too, but among the many good gifts which God had given to him, music had been denied. He did not know one tune from another, except as it might be associated with some particular Psalm or Hymn, and his voice, both powerful and flexible in speaking, had in singing only two unvarying tones. But he was never silent when the time came “to sing praises,” and truly his voice did not spoil the music to those who loved him. The boys had their mother’s gift and they all sang with good will to-night. Allie’s voice was mute, but her lips trembled a little, and her head drooped low as they sang—
“God of our fathers be the God
Of their succeeding race.”
She was not forgotten in the prayer which followed. It was not as “the stranger within our gates” that she was remembered, but as one of the household, and it was reverently asked that the casting in of her lot with theirs might be for good to her and to them for all time and beyond it. But there was no brightening of her face when she rose and passed out from among them.
The minister’s sermon was not his first thought when he returned to the parlour, after carrying his little daughter up-stairs. By and by his wife sat down with her stocking-basket by her side. They had many things to speak about, after a ten days’ separation, which had not occurred more than twice before in all their married life, and soon they came round to their new servant.
“Well, what do you think of her?” said the minister.
“I cannot say. I cannot quite make her out,” said Mrs Hume gravely.