'Eh—what, my dear?' said the colonel, rousing his attention.
'What must one do, to get comfort out of the Bible?'
'Comfort?' repeated the colonel, now looking round at her. 'Are you in want of comfort, Esther?'
'I would like to know how to find it, papa, if it is here.'
'Here? What have you got there? Come where I can see you.'
Esther drew near, unwillingly. 'It is the Bible, papa.'
'And what is it you want from the Bible?—Comfort?'
'Mamma used to say one could get comfort in the Bible, and I wanted to know how.'
'Did she?' said the colonel with grave thoughtfulness. But he said no more. Esther waited. Her father's tone had changed; he seemed to have gone back into regions of the past, and to have forgotten her. The minutes ran on, without her daring to remind him that her question was still unanswered. The colonel at last, with a long sigh, took up his book again; then seemed to bethink him, and turned to Esther.
'I do not know, my dear,' he said. 'I never could get it there myself, except in a very modified way. Perhaps it is my fault.'