“Her father beat her,” said Harvey wrathfully.
“Harvey,” chided Mrs. Welcome, “Tom’s dead. He wasn’t a bad man, Miss Masters. He lost his courage when he lost his invention.”
“I understand,” said Miss Masters sympathetically. “You haven’t heard anything from your lost girl?”
“No,” replied Mrs; Welcome sadly, “not a word. Patience and I and Harvey came to the city hoping to find her—”
“Patience?”
“She’s my other daughter,” replied Mrs. Welcome, “two years older. Elsie was my baby.” Her voice broke.
“I’m wondering,” she went on in subdued tones, “if she’s all right. I’ve prayed, too. Seems as though I’ve prayed every minute that God would bring my baby back to me. You don’t think it makes any difference, do you, Miss Masters, even if we are in a great, noisy city? God is here, too, isn’t he?”
She put out her hand impulsively and Miss Masters took it into her own cool palm.
“Yes, God is here,” she replied reverently, “though sometimes it is hard to have faith and believe it.”
Harvey had walked away and stood looking out at the door.