"Thus saith the Lord, the God of Israel, Like these good figs, so will I acknowledge them that are carried away captive of Judah, whom I have sent out of this place into the land of the Chaldeans for their good. For I will set mine eyes upon them for good, and I will bring them again to their land; and I will build them, and not pull them down; and I will plant them, and not pluck them up. And I will give them an heart to know me, that I am the Lord: and they shall be my people, and I will be their God: for they shall return unto me with their whole heart."—Jer. xxiv. 5-7.
Rotha bowed her head upon her book. I am content! she said in herself. Let the Lord do even this with me, and take the way that is best. Only let me come out so!—
But the next wonderful words made her cry again. They cut so deep, even while they promised to heal so wholly.
"And I will bring the third part through the fire, and will refine them as silver is refined, and will try them as gold is tried: they shall call on my name, and I will hear them; I will say, It is my people; and they shall say, The Lord is my God."—Zach. xiii. 9.
If Rotha's tears flowed, her heart did not give back from its decision. Yes, she repeated,—I would rather be the Lord's tried gold, even at such cost; at any cost. Must one go through the fire, before one can say and have a right to say, "The Lord is my God"? or does one never want to say it, thoroughly, until then? But to be the Lord's pure gold I cannot miss that. I wonder if Mrs. Mowbray has been through the fire? Oh I know she has. Mr. Southwode?—I think he must. I remember how very grave his face used to be sometimes.
Here Rotha's meditations were interrupted. She heard steps come clumping up the stairs, and there was a tap at her door.
"Prissy's got supper ready," said Mr. Purcell. "I've come up to call you."
With which utterance he turned about and went down the stairs again. Rotha gave a loving look at her Bible and "Treasury," locked her door, and followed him.
"It's quite a ways to the top o' the house," remarked Mr. Purcell. "It'd be wuss 'n a day's work to go up and down every meal."
"Nobody aint a goin' up and down every meal," said his wife. "I aint, I can tell you."