"There is no trouble here. When we are not allowed to work, as sometimes happens, that makes us not quite so happy, but it is very seldom that it happens so."
"Is it for punishment?" she said.
And then he laughed out with a sound which made all the others look up smiling; and if they had not all looked so tenderly at her, as at a child who has made such a mistake as it is pretty for the child to make, she would have feared she had said something wrong; but she only laughed at herself too, and blushed a little, knowing that she was not wise: and to put her at her ease again, he turned the leaf and showed her other pictures, and the story which went with them, from which he was copying something. And he said,—
"This is for another book, to show how the grace of the Father was beautiful in some homes and families. It is not the great history, but connected with it; and there are many who love that better than the story which is more great."
Then the Pilgrim looked in his face and said,—
"What I want most is, to know about your homes here."
"It is all home here," he said, and smiled; and then, as he met her wistful looks, he went on to tell her that he and his brothers were not always there. "We have all our occupations," he said, "and sometimes I am sent to inquire into facts that have happened, of which the record is not clear; for we must omit nothing; and sometimes we are told to rest and take in new strength; and sometimes—"
"But oh, forgive me," cried the little Pilgrim, "you had some who were more dear to you than all the world in the old time?"
And the others all looked up again at the question, and looked at her with tender eyes, and said to the man whom she questioned,—"Speak!"
He made a little pause before he spoke, and he looked at one here and there, and called to them,—