Marjorie's eyes were pitiful; it must be hard to be blind.
"Shall I read to you now?" she asked hurriedly.
"How is the fire? Isn't it most time to put the kettle on? I shan't sleep a wink if I don't have hasty pudding to-night and I don't like it raw, either."
"It shan't be raw," laughed Marjorie, springing up. "I'll see to the fire and fill the kettle and then I'll read to you."
The old lady fumbled at her work till Marjorie came back to her with the family Bible in her hands.
She laid the Bible on the table and moved her chair to the table.
"Where shall I read?"
"About Jacob and all his children and all his troubles, I never get tired of that. He said few and evil had been his days and he was more than most a hundred."
"Well," said Marjorie, lingering over the word and slowly turning back to Genesis. She had opened to John, she wanted to read to the grumbling old heart that was "afraid" some of the comforting words of Jesus: "Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."
"Begin about Jacob and read right on."