"Or of a follower of Christ that he was shamed of his Master's service," added Edward.
So it was arranged that they should take turns, day about, according to their age.
"Five o'clock—just an hour to tea-time," Charlie said, consulting his watch: "what shall we do with it? Amy, do you feel equal to a stroll on the beach, with the support of my arm?"
"Thank you, it would be very nice, but I am tired enough to think it still nicer just to lie here and look at the sea," she said. "I shall not mind being left alone, though; so, please, all the rest of you go. And to-morrow I shall be able to join you, I hope."
"Ah no, we won't leave you here all alone," said several voices.
"No," said Mary, "for I am going to stay with her. I am weary enough just now to prefer resting in this easy chair to a ramble on the beach or anywhere else; and beside, I want a chat with Amy."
"Secrets to tell, eh?" said Charlie, picking up his hat. "Good-bye, then. Don't forget to speak well of the absent."
"Oh I am so glad to be alone with you for a little while, Mary," Amy said, when the others had all gone. "I want to thank you for your kindness in asking me to come here; such a blessed relief as it was! for it seemed to me the very monotony of my life was killing me."
"The thanks hardly belong to me," Mary said, between a smile and a tear, as she leaned over Amy, gently smoothing back the hair from her forehead. "I think they should be given first to our heavenly Father, and second to Mr. Marston."
"Yes, and third to you, Mary. I used to wonder over that text in Isaiah—'He that believeth shall not make haste.' I didn't know what it meant, but I believe I do now."