“Was he _killed_?” asked Judith, fearful some trouble might fall upon her if she listened to the voice of self-will.
“No, he cried out, and the Lord helped him, and moved his enemies to depart from him. As he returned to his house in peace, a seer met him, and said, ‘For this thing wrath is upon thee from the Lord.’”
“‘For this thing,’” repeated Judith. “For inquiring of the Lord, learning his will, and then believing the voice of the four hundred who gave him his own way. Oh, dear, I wish those four hundred would _never_ speak.”
“There is but one way to silence them; listen to God’s voice above them all.”
“But it is so _hard_,” cried Judith, impetuously.
“Do not choose the easy way of obedience. Choose God’s way, and let me tell you one of his secrets; _his way is always easier than we think_.”
To hide the tears which would not be kept back Judith hastily left the study; he did not know, nobody could know, what obedience would cost her; life at the parsonage was so different; Roger and Marion were _young_ with her, and Aunt Rody and Aunt Affy, and Uncle Cephas were so _old_; they had lived their lives, and their days went on with a long-drawn-out sameness; nothing ever happened to them, they were not looking forward to anything, there would be no study, no new books, no music, no getting near the loveliest things in the world; it was barrenness and dreariness, it was like death; the parsonage was hope, and youth, and love and life, with the best things yet to come. “It will stifle me to go back; I shall die of homesickness, I shall choke to death.”
Cousin Don had a right to her, he was her guardian cousin. Would he not have a right to come and take her away? But her mother—what would her mother choose for her to do?
“I will go and stay—a week,” she resolved, tears rushing afresh; “but I miss Marion when I stay one single night.”
At the supper-table she announced with reddened eyelids and a voice that would not be steady that she thought she would go to Aunt Affy’s before evening service and stay over night; Uncle Cephas had told her that morning that Aunt Affy was very tired.
“Must you go?” asked Marion. “But I know they need you. Mrs. Evans said they couldn’t get any one, and Aunt Rody was in bed to-day.”