They sat at the open window in the afternoon, and Dolly read aloud the evening psalms. It was the fifth day of the month. As Dolly finished the last verse and closed the book, Mrs. Grape, after a moment’s silence, repeated the words:—
“The Lord shall give strength unto His people: the Lord shall give His people the blessing of peace.”
“What a beautiful promise that is, Dolly!” she said in hushed tones. “Peace! Ah, my dear, no one can know what that word means until they have been sorely tried. Peace everlasting!”
Mrs. Grape leaned back in her chair, gazing upwards. The sky was of a deep blue; a brilliant gold cloud, of peculiar shape, was moving slowly across it just overhead.
“One could almost fancy it to be God’s golden throne in the brighter land,” she murmured. “My child, do you know, the thought comes across me at times that it may not be long before I am there. And I am getting to long for it.”
“Don’t say that, mother,” cried the startled girl.
“Well, well, dear, I don’t want to frighten you. It is all as God pleases.”
“I shall send to ask Mr. Nash to come to see you to-morrow, mother. Do you feel worse?”
Mrs. Grape slightly shook her head. Presently she spoke.
“Is it not almost teatime, Dolly?—whoever is that?”