The Inglises; Or, How the Way Opened - Margaret M. Robertson

“I remember. Yes, I was afraid.” David stood silent beside her. The voices of the children on their homeward way came through the stillness. In a minute they could see them, moving in and out among the long shadows, which the last gleam of sunshine made, their hands and laps filled with flowers and trailing green—a very pretty picture. The mother stood watching them in silence till they drew near. Then the face she turned to David was bright with both smiles and tears.

“David,” she said, “when I remember your father’s life and death, and how gently we have been dealt with since then, how wisely guided, how strongly guarded, and how the way has opened before us, my heart fills full and my lips would fain sing praises. I do not think there can come into my life anything to make me afraid any more.”

David’s answer was in words not his own: “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee, because he trusteth in Thee.”

The End.