Mr. and Mrs. Drummond were greatly distressed at this new trouble—another result of Adam's brave, self-devoting action at the time of the accident. It is not needful to tell how ready both were to help and sympathise in every way, and anxious to prevent Adam from further suffering on Margaret's account. He must be told enough to explain her non-appearance at the hospital a second time, but her present danger must be hidden from him.
A few days and nights of anxious watching and loving ministry followed, and then those who waited and watched were called on for thankful rejoicing. The danger was over, and, though very weak, Margaret was in a fair way to recover. Adam was then told that it had existed, and was happily past, so he could only look hopefully forward. He knew those who brought the information would not deceive him. So, with the simple trust of a childlike Christian, he thanked God for mercies given, and left his dear ones and himself in "our Father's" hands.
As Margaret gained strength, and was able to listen first, and then to speak the thoughts that were in her heart, she and Sarah Evans were daily drawn nearer together. The old wilful, self-asserting Maggie, so confident in her own opinions, so sure that the profession of religion, and love for God's Word and His house, were only so many forms of cant, disappeared altogether. In her place was one who humbly owned that her Adam, and Mr. and Mrs. Drummond, and though last, not least, Sarah and her kinsfolk, showed what their religion meant by their lives.
She could not take Bible words to illustrate her meaning, for her memory had not been stored with such treasures of wisdom when she was a child. But she could say that whilst many in the manager's position as head of Rutherford's would only have taken Adam at his own valuation, and as a mere "hand" in the works, have deemed him "of no account," Mr. Drummond had bent in order to lift her husband from the slough of despond from which he could not free himself. He had evened himself with the poor labourer in one way, for had he not brought home to him, by God's help, some truth that had made another man of him?
Then look at Sarah. If the same spirit had been in her that once animated Margaret, she would have rather rejoiced at the trouble which had come upon her, seeing how ungratefully her former efforts had been rewarded.
Mrs. Drummond, with her sweet, refined ways and beautiful face, seemed like an angel almost to Maggie. In spite of her frequent presence in the sick room, she could not, however, have opened her heart to her as she was able to do to Sarah Evans.
Her own longing after the higher life to which the cultured Drummonds and her homely Adam had, by some mysterious way, alike reached, she could only express by the old childish words, "I do so want to be good."
Sarah understood the longing, and could tell Margaret the method by which Mr. Drummond had been enabled to show Adam that he ought not to deem himself of no account.
"It isn't that my husband thinks more of himself in a way," said Margaret. "He's that humble he'd put anybody before him. But he's a happy man now, and he looks up, as one may say, instead of looking down-trodden, and as if he hadn't a friend in the world, like he used to do."
"It's because he has a Friend, not only for this world but for ever and ever, in Jesus," said Sarah. "In the old days, he couldn't be very bright, for he only thought about himself as a poor labouring man at Rutherford's, with no likelihood of being anything else or getting a lift even in this world. I dare say he thought, 'If anything happened, somebody else would just go into my place, and the big hammer would rise and fall in fresh hands, and nobody would miss me but those at home.'