“To tell you the truth, dear Jane,” he replied, “I am troubled, spite of myself, about your matter.”
“What, Thomas! Have you heard anything fresh?”
“Yes, I have; but I wasn’t meaning to say anything about it at present to you, as I wouldn’t trouble you to no purpose, and I thought I’d wait for more light.”
“Oh, tell me, Thomas, tell me! What is it?”
“Why, the simple truth is that the bag’s been found; and yet it’s lost, and worse lost than ever.”
“O Thomas!”
“Well, Jane dear, don’t fret; I’ll tell you all about it.” He then proceeded to give her the full particulars of Ned Taylor’s story, and of the endeavour he had made, but without success, to trace the bag in London. Jane listened patiently, and did not speak when her brother had finished, but her lips moved in silent prayer.
“Thomas,” she said, quietly and sadly, “it is a sore trial of faith, but let us still trust in the Lord, and follow your favourite maxim, ‘Do the next thing.’”
“The Lord bless you, dear Jane, for your patience. You’re right; only I don’t clearly see what is the next thing.”
“Will it not be of any use to advertise?” she asked.