‘Oh! it was a wild undertaking,’ said Fanny’s mother, as much dejected now as she was a few moments before elated, and for just as good a reason as before stated and no other.
‘That remains to be seen, wife.’
‘You say this to comfort me who feel so timid—that’s all, Henry.’
‘I don’t know,’ said the husband seriously and partly to himself, ‘but I still have great faith in Fanny.’
‘Heaven grant it true faith.’
‘Amen,’ again said the father.
And after the usual prayer to the throne of grace, in which Fanny’s name was often and fervently mentioned, the good old couple retired to their humble cot to rest after their day’s labor, and were soon wrapped in the quiet and refreshing sleep that industry and frugality ensure to the humble.