“No, Mrs. Blake.  I was scarcely equal in this matter to those poor souls who helped Noah build the Ark and were drowning for want of its shelter.  They labored harder than I; for what I gave was more from impulse, and it was a pleasure.”

“I guess God don’t make mistakes paying folks for what they do, and maybe it’s jest as well not to have a great consait of yourself; but you’re the first one I’ve heard comparing themselves to Noah’s Ark builders.”

I turned the conversation somewhat abruptly.

“What is Mr. Bowen doing now?”

“He’s taken on in Belcher’s Mill, working at the books.”

“I suppose they are getting along nicely at Mrs. Larkum’s now.”

“Yes, indeed.  She was complaining after meeting last night, she’d only seed you onct since her father got back, to have a good talk with you.”

“Shall we go there now, for a little while?”

“I’d be glad to, and she’ll be pleased to see us coming, I know.”

Mrs. Blake was very soon in readiness, we started out into the dull, cold air, scarce noticing that the wind was blowing raw and chill from the east, and the soughing wind betokening a storm.  While I sat in Mrs. Larkum’s tidy room, listening to her voice, I kept contrasting her with the elegantly dressed, beautiful woman whose face and gestures I was studying the previous day.  The one nurtured in the shady places of life, and inured to poverty and hardship; the other privileged with the best opportunities for culture, and high intellectual and social development; and yet with vision grown suddenly clear, I could detect a refinement of the soul, and true womanly honor in Mrs. Larkum that the other lacked.  I was glad to notice that Mrs. Larkum’s tears had ceased to flow so profusely.  There was an occasional moistening of the eye from sheer joy; for she too had got her experience brightened of late.  She was finding it easier to trust in the Lord, and be glad in Him now that she had got a stronger arm than her own to lighten her burdens.  As we talked I found they were blessed with an honest independence of spirit that proved them a better class than many who receive help.

“Father has begun to lay by money to pay you,” she announced, with evident pleasure.

“He has already paid me a thousand-fold.  I never want any other recompense.”

“I do not think he will be satisfied to let that debt go unpaid.  He was always so particular to owe no man anything.  In our worst poverty he would never let me go in debt.”

“Then I can never repay him,” I said, sorrowfully, “for I try, like him, to be independent; but I suppose there are blessings no money can ever repay.”

“Why, every time he opens his eyes in the morning, he says his first thought is to thank the Lord, and his next is a prayer that you may get your reward.”

“His prayer has been answered,” I murmured, with tear-filled eyes.