“They were silent awhile.
“‘Maybe there’ll some good come of it, somehow, after all,’ said Sue, in her twilight voice.
“‘Good will be the end of it,’ said the cobbler. ‘There’s a kind hand doing it, and an almighty arm upholding us in it; we shall not be utterly cast down: so we must bear to be poor, and to be sick, and to be separated; and just leave it all with God.’
“‘Father, it’s pleasant to do that,’ said Sue; but you could know by the tone of her words that she was crying a little.
“‘Why, darling, if we are poor, and sick, and in trouble, we have our dear Saviour, and we know that the Lord is our God. We are not poor people,—not we. ‘Having nothing, and yet possessing all things.’ Who would we change with, Sue?’
“She had to wait a little while before she spoke, but then she said,—
“‘I wouldn’t change with anybody.’
“‘No more would I,’ said the cobbler, giving her another kiss.
“And so they went to bed, a couple of very rich poor people.