He walked about while the maid came in and set the table for dinner. The minister linked his arm into his brother's. "Say, brother," he asked, "would you not be lonesome up in heaven without Aunt Sarah?"
Uncle Gilbert was seriously alarmed. He had in mind to call Lucy, when, providentially she came to them.
"I think your father's not well, Lucy?" said Uncle Gilbert, as she took her father's other arm.
"What's the matter, papa?" she asked.
"I am well," protested the father—"as well as I ever was. I've just been telling brother here some things—some gospel truths in fact, and I guess they're beyond you yet," he said to his brother.
"Well," replied Uncle Gilbert, "I'll admit I've never heard you talk like that before."
"Why, I've preached these things scores of times from the pulpit, and my congregations have thought them fine. I didn't tell, however, where my inspiration came from."
"Where did it come from?" asked Lucy.
"From your books, my dear."
"My books?"