“The rain is over,” she said, turning to the door. “I am sure that we are much obliged to you, Bertha; and I shall often think over what you have said.”
Lucy glided to her sister, and whispered a few words to her, at the same time pressing something into her hand. “You speak for me,” was all that could be overheard. Priscilla’s smile was brighter than usual.
“We happen to have been given a little money,” she said, going up to Bertha with Lucy; “we have no real wants ourselves, and we should be glad, very glad, if you would spend it in getting any little comfort for yourself.”
“May the Almighty bless you for your kindness, dear children!” cried Bertha, fervently clasping her hands. “It is He who has sent you here to-day. He knew that I had not a crust left in my cottage—that I had no earthly means of procuring one. He has answered my prayer. I hoped in Him, and He has not disappointed my hope. But I cannot deprive you of both shillings,” she added; “it is too much—”
“Oh no!” exclaimed Priscilla; “we will never touch that money again!”
“Prissy,” said Lucy gaily to her sister, as they hastened along the wet path, not complaining when their shoes were fixed in the mire, and showers of moisture dropped on them from the trees, “I am almost glad now that we were disappointed of our treat; I think that it was a good thing after all.”
“Yes; and I am glad that the shower came, though we dreaded it so much.”
“I daresay that if we looked at things as poor Bertha looks, we should find a great deal to make us glad.”
“Glad, and thankful besides,” said Priscilla.
“Ah, you are thinking less of the thorns and the clouds!”
“I see that earthly joys and earthly sorrows are mixed, like the lovely wild-flowers with the brambles; so that we should not care too much for the one, nor fret too much at the other. And as, when dark clouds roll over the sky, we yet know that the blue heaven is always beyond, we may look through all troubles with a sure glad hope.”
“_And the hope of the righteous shall be gladness_,” said Lucy.
Oh! who should be joyful and glad, If not those whom the Saviour has loved, Who, living or dying, their happiness rest On the Rock which can never be moved? What have we, as sinners, deserved? What hath God in His graciousness given? Let us love Him and serve Him, rejoicing below, As we hope to do always in heaven.