g an arm about her and caressing
her with tenderness. "I am very glad to have your company if it is not
going to weary you or rob you of needed sleep." Then he drew her hand
within his arm and they paced slowly back and forth, conversing in
subdued tones.

"It is so sweet to be alone with you once in a while, my own dear
father," she said. "I think, papa, if my engagement has made any
change in my feelings toward you it has been to make you seem to me
nearer and dearer, if possible, than ever. Oh, I think it would break
my heart if I should ever have to go so far away from you that I could
not see and talk with you every day!"

"Dear child, those are sweet words to my ear," he said in moved tones,
"and I am most thankful that, so far as we can see into the future,
there seems little or no danger that we will ever be so separated in
this world."

"Yes, papa; that assurance is one of my greatest joys. And I am so
glad that my dear father is so strong and well, and not so very old,"
she added with a smile and a look of loving admiration up into his
face.

"I am not very young, daughter," he returned pleasantly, "though I
think my natural strength has not abated, and life seems as enjoyable
to me as ever. But the happy thought is that God our heavenly Father
rules and reigns and shall choose all our changes for us; for to his
wisdom and love there is no limit. How sweet are the words, 'I have
loved thee with an everlasting love,' 'As the Father hath loved me, so
have I loved you.' If we are his children we need not fear to trust
our all in his hands. We need not desire to choose for ourselves as
regards the things of this life, or the time when he shall call us to
our heavenly home."

"That is a very sweet thought, father," she said. "What a care and
anxiety it would be to us to have to choose all those changes for
ourselves. How kind in the dear Lord Jesus to bid his disciples to
take no thought--which you have explained to me means no care or
anxiety--for the morrow--telling them that 'Sufficient unto the day is
the evil thereof.'"

"Yes; and when troubled with cares and fears for the future we may be
sure that it is because we are lacking in that faith which trusts all
in his hands."

"Oh, I want that faith!" she exclaimed earnestly, though her voice was
low and sweet. "Papa, pray for me that I may have it."

"I will, daughter, I do," he said; "there is nothing I desire more
strongly for you and all my dear c