Thomas Bradly rose to go; but Mrs Foster said, “I ought to have told you that there was something else dropped into the room at the same time with the Bible, but it wasn’t the bracelet, I’m sorry to say.”
“Stay, dear friend,” cried Bradly; “let me run home to my dear sister with her Bible; I’ll be back again in half an hour.”
So saying he hurried home, and seating himself by Jane, who was knitting as usual in her snug retreat by the fireside, said, “Jane dear, the Lord’s been bringing us just one little step nearer to the light—only one step, mind, only one little step, but it’s a step in the right direction.”
“Thomas, what is it?” she exclaimed anxiously.
“Your Bible’s turned up.”
“My Bible, Thomas!”
“Yes, Jane.” He then placed it in her hand. Yes, she could see that it was indeed her own dearly-prized Bible.
“And the bracelet, Thomas?” she asked eagerly.—He shook his head sadly. A shadow came over the face and tears into the eyes of his poor sister.
“The Lord’s will be done,” she said patiently; “but tell me, dear Thomas, all about it.”—He then related what he had heard from Kate Foster.
“And you feel sure, Thomas, that the Fosters know nothing about the bag or bracelet?”