That evening, at their usual time of confidences, and in their usual attitude, Phebe handed the letter to Nanna, giving no word of explanation. Nanna got her glasses, and began at once to read. It took her a minute or so to grasp whom the letter was from, and she turned more than once to the heading of the paper.
"My poor child! You dear Phebe! But never mind; let us put this cold-blooded letter on the fire. Think of it no more, and let us go back to where we were the night Coates came. See, shall I?" holding the letter over the fire.
[Illustration: "'LET US PUT THIS COLD-BLOODED LETTER ON THE FIRE.'"]
Phebe nodded, and they both watched it curl up into a black mass, and then sink down into the heart of the fire.
"That I am willing to do that work myself?"
"And do you really think I could?" looking up into the strong, brave face bending over her.
"Yes, I do; it is God's call, and He is sure to give you all you need. Will you?"
There was a pause, and then a faint "Yes," but Nanna knew, though faint, it was meant. And there and then, without altering their position, Nanna prayed: "I thank Thee, dear Father, for this honour Thou art putting on my dear Phebe. Perhaps it is in some way to make up for the dishonour some have put upon her. Through the delay in answering Thee she has brought fresh pain to herself, but forgive her and comfort her, dear Father. Open up the way for her in this piece of work, everything going so smoothly that thereby she may see Thy dear hand in all, and be assured Thou art with her. Give her, dear Lord, to-morrow, if Thou seest it will be good, some extra bit of comfort to make up for what has wounded her so sorely to-day. May she be another of Thy brave Deborahs. We are in Thy hands; never let us even wish to be anywhere else, and do let us each feel the touch of those blessed hands."
The next day at dinner, to everybody's surprise, Mrs. Colston announced that in all probability Mrs. Waring was going next Sunday afternoon to hold a meeting among the navvies.
"You don't say so!" exclaimed Bessie; "then I shall go, too. It wouldn't be the proper thing, you know, to let her go alone."
"And couldn't you sing a bit?" asked Nanna.
"Yes, I would if Mrs. Waring would like me to do so." Bessie had a very nice voice, but was never very confident of herself as a singer.