“What is the news in to-day’s paper, John? Anything fresh taken place?”
Finding that her husband did not reply as usual, she hastily glanced at him, laying down her magazine as she did so.
“He did not hear my question,” she decided in her own mind; then rose and knelt beside his chair saying, “What can you be thinking about so deeply, my dear old man? It must be something very interesting, I should think, seeing that you did not even hear me speak to you just now!” And Margaret gave a happy little laugh, and looked teasingly at him.
“Thinking of, my darling? Why, something that has been on the tip of my tongue to tell you all the week, but I was almost afraid to; besides, I was not quite sure of myself.”
“It sounds like an enigma, John! But do tell me. I am all curiosity to know what you mean.”
Placing one arm round his wife as she knelt beside his chair, the doctor drew her closer to him and began:
“You remember last Sunday evening, Maggie?”
Mrs. Duncan nodded, and her eyes lit up with pleasure at the recollection.
“Well, it is a wonderful thing to me, and it may seem strange to you, my wife; but ever since I heard that girl sing that song, I have felt quite differently about religious matters.”
A glad cry burst from Margaret Duncan’s lips, but she checked it as her husband continued: