“I believe that the promise, ‘He shall teach you all things,’ will be fulfilled to all who claim it,” said Mrs. Lewis.

“You recollect,” said Mrs. Parker, “how Luther loved the Bible after that wonderful light shone into his soul?  I have read somewhere that the cxixth Psalm was his favourite, because in all its one hundred and seventy-six verses the Bible is mentioned in every one except two.  I have also heard that it is a favourite with Ruskin because he has the same love for the Word that David and Luther possessed.  ’How sweet are Thy words unto my taste,’ was the burden of David’s song.”

“I have had just one thought following me the whole week,” said Mrs. Mills.  “It came to me with such power last Sabbath, when I took my Bible to look out some texts for the meeting to-day, that I almost felt as if I had never known it before.  It is so wonderful that God and the Holy Spirit have written a Book and we have it! and, what is stranger still, that we dare to neglect it.  One would suppose that a superstitious fear would make people read it, if nothing else.  I believe that the Lord himself sent that solemn realisation to me; it has seemed a different Book to me ever since.  If an angel should come down and bring me ever so short a letter from the Lord, with some expressions of favour, I should be consumed with joy; and here I have not only one, but so many, and never took it in before.”

“My heart standeth in awe of thy word,” repeated Mrs. Lewis; then, turning to one who sat near her, said, “We want a word from you, Mrs. Barnes.”  Mrs. Barnes had slipped into the most obscure seat in the room, almost behind Mrs. Lewis’ chair.  She was one of Mrs. Lewis’ most intimate friends, and herein was another proof of “queerness” in the eyes of some of Mrs. Lewis’ neighbours, “because she made so much of that Mrs. Barnes.”  No one had ever thought of calling such a dignified, intelligent-looking woman a “washer-woman,” and yet she did take some of her neighbours’ clothes to her home and wash and iron them—­why not? since she was strong and they were not, and she wanted money and they wanted clean clothes.  However it was, these two women saw eye to eye.  It was no uncommon thing when Mrs. Barnes’ snowy wash was flapping in the wind, and she had slipped on her clean gingham, and stepped over to Mrs. Lewis’ a minute, to have the minute lengthen to an hour or more, they had so much in common to talk about.  Their absent Lord—­His work, and how to further it, were themes they did not weary of.

So Mrs. Barnes put on her glasses and opened her old Bible and read, “As new born babes, desire the sincere milk of the Word, that ye may grow thereby.”