"A kind Providence sees fit to
restore him to us," murmured she as the door closed upon the
venerable benign countenance of their much endeared physician. But
the latter did not hold out false hope. When questioned as to his
opinion he spoke kindly and said that he was doing all that could be
done.
Another week had flown, and Saturday night was ushered in with a
quiet that was inspiring, reminding one most forcibly of the lines:
"The cheerfu sapper down, wi' serious face,
They, round the ingle form a circle wide,
The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace
The big ha' Bible, once his father's pride."
Though Saturday night at "Sunnybank" presented a different scene the
faithful picture was often presented to Mr. Verne in a way that
filled his soul with a deep religious fervour and inspired him with
a filial reverence for the time-honored custom of his worthy
ancestors.
But of the present. Marguerite had been reading from the _Church
Witness_, and having finished her task or rather pleasure, sat
down upon a low stool beside the grate, gazing upon the red hot
coals with a far off look in her violet eyes!
"Has Phillip been here to-day, my dear?" asked Mr.
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