He thought sometimes they hadn't
just got the inner light about God and the Bible and all, but they were
the kind of men who were getting there, striving after truth, and would
likely find it and hand it out to the world again when they got it; like
the wise men hunting everywhere for a Saviour. Don't you remember,
Father?"
"I remember!" Father tried to speak cheerily, but his breath ended in a
sigh, for the carpet was heavy. Mother looked at him sharply and changed
the subject. It wasn't always easy to keep Father cheerful about
Stephen's going.
"You don't suppose we could get those curtains up to-night, too, do
you?"
"Why, I reckon!" said Father, stopping for a puff of breath and looking
up to the white woodwork at the top of the windows. "You got 'em all
ready to put up, all sewed and everything? Why, I reckon I could put up
those rods after I get across this end, and then you could slip the
curtains on while I was doing the rest. You don't want to get too tired,
Mother. You know you been sewing a long time to-day."
"Oh, I'm not tired! I'm just childish enough to want to see how it's all
going to look. Say, Father, that wasn't the telephone ringing, was it?
You don't think we might get a telegram yet to-night?"
"Not scarcely!" said Father, with his mouth full of tacks. "You see,
it's been bad weather, and like as not your letter got storm-stayed a
day or so. You mustn't count on hearing 'fore Monday I guess.
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