“Several people who love you. If you had never thought of it, it would have been thought of for you. In that same talk Christ told the people: Your heavenly father knoweth that ye have need of all these things: for your heavenly Father knoweth; that’s why we do not have to think about the cubits. I think I’ll give Roger ‘For your heavenly Father’ for a text.”
“I am so glad,” said Judith, with radiant eyes, “I love that ‘cubit’ now.”
“So do I. I will certainly ask Roger to preach about our cubit.”
“But don’t let him put me in,” protested Judith. “I should look conscious so everybody would know I was the girl. Jean Draper will be sure to know.”
“He will not let it be a girl. He will make it somebody who was superstitious, and anxious, and did not trust God, nor know how to learn his will. Trust Roger for that. I always know when he puts people in, for we talk it over together; he puts me in so often that I am accustomed to being made a text of; and his own mistakes and failures are in all the time.”
“I thought mine were,” acknowledged Roger’s attentive and appreciative listener.
“And Uncle Cephas is sure his are in,” laughed Marion. “I think it is only the outside of us that isn’t alike.”
Very often Judith was allowed to sit in the study with her books and writing.
Mr. Kenney told her that she never disturbed him, that he would be disturbed if she were not there with her books and table in the bay-window.
“Ask me a question whenever you like,” he said one day.