you think so, mamma?" said he, colouring.

"They will like to hear it, and I shall like them to hear it. Shall I
read it for you?" said his mother, smiling.

David rose and went into his mother's room, and came back with the
letter in his hand. Giving it to her without a word, he sat down in a
corner where the light could not fall on his face. Mrs Inglis opened
the letter and read:

"Dear David Inglis,--It is a solemn thing to sit down and write a letter
which is not to be opened till the hand that holds the pen is cold in
death; and so I feel at this time. But I want you to know all about it,
and I must put it in as few words as possible. I will begin at the
beginning.

"I never had much hope of your father after that first hard cold he took
about the time that Timothy Bent died. I worried about him all winter,
for I couldn't make it seem right that his life and usefulness should be
broken off short, just when it seemed he had got ready to do the most
good. I would have put it right, in my way, if I could have done it.
But it was not the Lord's way, and I had to give it up. It never was
easy for me to give up my own way, even to the Lord. But He is
long-suffering and slow to anger; and by and by He showed me how I might
help make up your father's loss to the church and the world.

"But I wasn't in any hurry about it, because I didn't know just how it
would be with you, and whether you would keep your armour bright, and
stand in the day of trial. So I waited, and went to Singleton, and
talked with Mr Caldwell, and came home feeling pretty well; and all the
more when I heard from your mother how she and you felt about your
taking up your father's work. Still I was not in any hurry, for I
thought you were not losing your time. You seemed to be learning, what
many a minister gets into trouble for not knowing, how business is done,
and how far a little money may be made to go. And I thought, if it were
just a notion of yours to be a minister, because you had thought so much
of your father, and to please your mother, you would find it out pretty
soon, and get into other business. But I knew, if the Lord had called
you to the work, you wouldn't be tired waiting, and you weren't losing
time.

"Well, I have thought of it, and planned for it considerable, one way
and another; and, lately, I have begun to think that I shall not have
much more time for planning or doing either. This summer, I have seemed
to s