Mrs. Gray had not been able to throw off entirely the foreboding of
calamity that she had voiced at the time Bob left home. Every morning
she awoke with a heavy heart, like one bearing a great weight of
sorrow. Before going about her daily duties she would pray for the
preservation of her son and the healing of her daughter, and it would
relieve her burden somewhat, but never wholly. The strange Presence
was always with her.
One day when Douglas Campbell came over he found her very despondent,
and he asked:
"Now what's troublin' you, Mary? There's some trouble on yer mind.
Don't be worryin' about th' lad. He's as safe as you be. He'll be
comin' home as fine an' hearty as ever you see him, an' with a fine
hunt."
"I knows the's no call for th' worry," she answered, "but someways I
has a forebodin' o' somethin' evil t' happen an' I can't shake un off.
I can't tell what an be. Mayhap 'tis th' maid. She's no better, an'
th' Lard's not answerin' my prayer yet t' give back strength t' she
an' make she walk."
"'Twill be all right wi' th' maid, now. Th' doctor said they'd be
makin' she well at th' hospital."
"But the's no money t' send she t' th' hospital--an' if she don't
go--th' doctor said she'd never be gettin' well."
"Now don't be lettin' _that_ worry ye, Mary.
Pages:
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127