“Good morning,” she greeted him with a smile.

“Good morning, is Elder Malby in?”

“No; none of the elders are in.  They are out tracting, I think—­but won’t you come in?”

“No, thank you, I wanted to see Elder Malby.”

“Well, he might be back at any time—­come in and rest.  You look tired.”

“Well—­I believe I will.”

He followed the motherly housekeeper into the office parlor, where she bade him be seated.  She excused herself as her work could not be neglected—­Would he be interested in the London papers, or the latest Deseret News.  She pointed to the table where these papers lay, then went about her work.

Chester looked listlessly at the papers, but did not attempt to read.  Presently, the housekeeper came back.

“I’m having a bite to eat down in the dining room.  Come and keep me company.  The Elders don’t eat till later, but I must have something in the middle of the day.”

Chester went with her into the cool, restful room below, and partook with her of the simple meal.  Not having had breakfast, he ate with relish.  Besides, there was a spirit of peace about the place.  His aching heart found some comfort in the talk of the good woman.

Shortly afterwards, Elder Malby arrived, and he saw in a moment that something was the matter with his young friend.

“How are the folks,” he asked, “Lucy and her father?”

“He is not well,” Chester replied.

“That’s too bad.  And you are worried?”

“Yes; but not altogether over that.  There is something else, Brother Malby.  I’ll have to tell you about it.  Will we be uninterrupted here?”

“Come with me,” said the elder and he took him into his own room up a flight of stairs.  “Now, then, what can I do to help you?”

“You will pardon me, I know; but somehow, I was led to tell you my story on ship-board, and you’re the only one I can talk to now.”  Then Chester told the elder what he had learned.  When he had finished, the elder’s face was very grave.

“What ought I to do?” asked Chester; “what can I do?”

The other shook his head.  “This is a strange story,” he said; “but there can be no doubt that you are his son.  You look like him.  I noticed it on ship-board, but of course said nothing about it.  But you do look like him.”

“Do I?”

“Yes; but why he encouraged you to make love to your sister—­that is beyond me—­I—­I don’t know what to say.”

“Oh, what can I do?”

There was a pause.  Then the elder as if weighing well every word, said: 

“My boy, you can pray.”

“No; I can’t even do that.  I haven’t said my prayers since this thing came to me.  What can I pray about?  What can I ask of God?”

“Listen.  It is easy to pray when everything is going along nicely, and we are getting everything we ask for; but when we seem to be up against hard fate; when despair is in our hearts and the Lord appears to have deserted us, then it is not so easy; but then is when we need most to pray.”