“Being afraid doesn’t hurt,” consoled Aunt Affy; “you are glad you were afraid after you get out of the wilderness.”
“What did your point turn you around to?” questioned Judith, who had learned from her mother that something always happened next.
“To knowing I would always be safe,” said Marion, “no matter how deep I get into the tangles in my wilderness.”
“Yes,” responded Aunt Affy, “we only think we are hurt.”
“Was it all wilderness?” asked Judith.
“It appeared so to me. We took a drive one day into another wilderness—Meadow Centre; that was almost more a wilderness.”
“I know Meadow Centre,” said Aunt Affy; “Cephas has a cousin there, a kind of cousin by courtesy, and he is always promising that he will take me over there. His name is Richard King; he has just come to take charge of the church. Cephas says he is a splendid worker, as big as a giant and as simple-hearted as a child.”
“Is he old like Uncle Cephas?” Judith inquired.
“No, child, he’s young like our minister. He preached here before your brother had the call, Miss Marion; Cephas wanted him, but he wouldn’t leave that going-to-pieces church and congregation over there. Cephas told him he was staying by the ship to see it go to pieces, and he said he wanted to see it go to pieces, then.”
“Meadow Centre is a part of my wilderness; I would like to see the place again. I have a very warm feeling for my wilderness.”