"Apart, if you please."
"Well—Bread, you know, daily bread, stands for the matters which support life, in all variety. This question arises.—Who gives this daily bread to you, and gives you power to eat it? And what use does He wish to make of you, that he should give you both?"
Norton was silent.
"You are not prepared with an answer?" said the minister.
"I never thought of the questions before, sir. The second one sounds to me very strange."
"Does it? Do you think the Lord had no purpose to serve, in putting you here and nourishing you up to strength and power?"
"That's for the bread," said Norton after a pause, but not rudely; lifting his eyes to the minister as he spoke. "You were going to consider the bread and butter."
"I think you do not seem disposed to 'consider' anything," said Mr. Richmond smiling; "but, however, I will hope the time of consideration may come. Now for deep question Number three, or Number four,—You have butter to your bread, and plenty of it; what is your duty towards others who have no butter, and others still who have no bread?"
"There's the omnibus, Mr. Richmond," said the housekeeper. And there was no more talk. Only a hurried putting on of hats and seizing of hand bags; eager, warm, hearty grasping of hands in good bye; and then the three travellers were in the omnibus and rolling along the parsonage lane and out at the gate.
What a visit it had been! Matilda was so full of content that she was still. Not a very noisy child at any time, she was now as quiet as a mouse, just with content. Three days of sweet pleasure, three days of country skies and greening grass and free sunshine; three nights and mornings of parsonage delights. And more than that; more than all she had hoped for; David going home with his deep questions solved and his calls of duty and privilege met. What would they think at home? and how would they find out about it? "He was one of those lost pieces of silver," thought Matilda, smiling to herself; "and Jesus has found him!"