"I mean, to persuade people to be at peace with Him?"
"That is the way above all others, my child; that is truly to be the 'children of God.' Jesus came and preached peace; and that is what His servants are doing, and will do, till He comes. And 'they shall be called the children of God.' 'Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another.'"
Mr. Folke paused, with a face so full of thought, of eagerness, and of love, that none of the children spoke, and some of them wondered. And before Mr. Folke spoke again, the superintendent's little bell rang, and they all stood up to sing. But Nettie Mathieson hardly could sing; it seemed to her so glorious a thing to be that sort of a peacemaker. Could she be one? But the Lord blessed the peacemakers; then it must be His will that all His children should be such; then He would enable her to be one! It was a great thought. Nettie's heart swelled with hope and joy and prayer. She knew whose peace she longed for first of all.
Her mother had now come to church, so Nettie enjoyed all the services, with nothing to hinder. Then they walked home together, not speaking much to each other, but every step of the way pleasant in the Sunday afternoon light, till they got to their own door. Nettie knew what her mother's sigh meant, as they mounted the stairs. Happily, nobody was at home yet but themselves.
"Now, mother," said Nettie, when she had changed her dress and come to the common room, "what's to be for supper? I'll get it. You sit still and read, if you want to, while it's quiet. What must we have?"
"There is not a great deal to do," said Mrs. Mathieson. "I boiled the pork this morning, and that was what set your father up so; that's ready; and he says there must be cakes. The potatoes are all ready to put down—I was going to boil 'em this morning, and he stopped me."
Nettie looked grave about the cakes.
"However, mother," she said, "I don't believe that little loaf of bread would last, even if you and I didn't touch it; it is not very big."
Mrs. Mathieson wearily sat down and took her Testament, as Nettie begged her; and Nettie put on the kettle and the pot of potatoes, and made the cakes ready to bake. The table was set, and the treacle and everything on it, except the hot things, when Barry burst in.
"Hallo, cakes!—hallo, treacle!" he shouted. "Pork and treacle—that's the right sort of thing. Now we're going to live something like."