"Poor child!" he would exclaim to Lily. "What a pity it is that you belong to such a senseless old dolt."
Lily did not try to talk much at such times. She would sing low and tender in bird-like notes some sweet assuring words, oftenest his favorite hymn that he had sung and believed for fifty years:
"How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,
Is found for your faith in his excellent Word."
The grand words of promise were sure to bring relief, and by the time she came to:
"I'll never, no, never, no, never, forsake—"
the poor heart was calmed.
"Here is a good place to read to-night, Grandpa," she sometimes said, turning the leaves of the large Bible to some chapter where God's loving heart whispers words that have comforted sad souls in all ages. When he had again realized these gracious promises it was easier to kneel and commit all to "Him who careth for us."
And so for the time being it seemed necessary that the learner turn teacher, and keep constantly before the fainting heart the unfailing Refuge.
"It will all come out right, dear Grandpa. You told me long ago that God cares for each of his children exactly as if that one were all alone in the world," she would say when the next dark cloud began to settle over him. "The Heavenly Father knows we need another home. He is surely getting it ready for us. We haven't suffered any yet; I know it will come in time."
Then Grandpa would murmur, "Blessed child, you shame my feeble faith."