"WELL, I can't find it!" said Nancy in rather an exasperated tone.
"I've been looking and peeping about for this twenty minutes, and I can't find it!"
"What is it?" asked Tom lazily, from his book and his corner of the sofa.
"Why, a shilling! I was putting some change into my purse, and it rolled from under my very fingers!"
"Perhaps you've made a mistake?"
"No; but I'm sure I haven't. I have only half-a-crown in the world, and that was in three sixpences and a shilling; and the shilling is gone! Besides, I heard it drop and roll away."
"We'll look after tea," yawned Tom.
But Nancy was not satisfied with that, and went on groping about in all the likely corners, almost ready to cry at her brother's lack of sympathy, and at her own want of success.
Mary was preparing the tea busily, and did not seem to be taking much notice; but presently she said in her gentle voice, "Perhaps you have not light enough?" and while Nancy looked up with relief at someone being interested in her trouble, Mary quietly slipped out of the room.
Poor little Nancy sat down on the hearth-rug, and almost gave up her shilling; she had looked everywhere, she was certain.
Then a light came in at the door, and there was Mary with a small lamp in her hand.
"Try this," she said, holding it out so that its light sent a beam into the dark recesses round the fireplace.
Nancy started up with fresh energy, and then there was a sudden exclamation.
"Why, Mary—!"
"Have you found it?" asked Mary joyfully.
"Yes; but I'd looked there heaps of times! It was just by the scuttle—"
"The light shone on it, I expect," said Mary, "and then you saw it!"
Tom looked up in his sister's face. "A spiritual lesson, Moll?" he asked, with a smile at her tone.
"I thought so," she answered, "for, do you know, it exactly matched a very curious experience I had a day or so ago. I was in darkness about something, and could not at all find out what God meant me to do. I searched in the corner of experience, and in the corner of expediency, and in another of wishes, and in another of obstacles; when suddenly it flashed across me that light was what I wanted—not so much searching!"
"And then I thought of fetching the Lamp of God's Word; and as I turned over the pages, the Light shone on my difficulty, and I could see the way out of it, shining as bright as Nancy's shilling in the dark corner!"
"And that was?" asked Tom, while Nancy still held her recovered shilling in her hand, and looked earnestly at her sister.
"'Commit thy way unto the Lord, trust also in Him, and He will bring it to pass,'" quoted Mary.
"Nice!" said Nancy heartily.
"So I took the lesson to my heart, dears," added Mary gently, "that when we are in a difficulty, it is very often because we have not enough light; and that light is to be found in the Word of God, which is there for anyone who seeks!"
MARY, Cecil, Tom and Nancy were together in the cosy room where there always seemed a bright bit of fire, and a tidy table and a warm welcome.
Mary, for once, sat muffled in a shawl in the arm-chair, and the rest gathered round her, glad to make her welcome to their circle, after her enforced absence of two days in bed with a bad cold.
"Now we are complete!" said Nancy comfortably.
"Yes; I would not have believed that one person being away would make such a difference," said Cecil, looking round the room reflectively.
Tom did not add his quota of praise, but he looked very contented, and after a few moments said, smiling, "I expect you've had some thoughts up there, Moll, that would do us good! It's been mighty dry down here!"
She put out her hand and touched her brother's softly.
"I have chiefly been learning a hymn!" she said.
"A hymn!" echoed Cecil. "Whatever for?"
"To have as 'a possession,'" said Mary. "You can't think how the Psalms I can say, and the hymns I have committed to memory, freshen me up if I am ill, and are so comforting to repeat to people in trouble."
"I never thought of that," said little Nancy.
"And what was your hymn?" asked Tom.
"A very simple one, but holding in every verse a magnificent secret!"
Cecil turned round and gazed at her.
"What?" he asked.
"'Let Jesus Christ be praised!'"
"How is that such a wonderful secret?" said Tom.
"Just this," she answered earnestly, "that if in every circumstance of life, in every difficulty, danger or fear, we can claim all that is stored up for us in that wonderful name Jesus, we have solace, strength, victory assured to us. I know it, dears, and so will you, if you will believe it."
The room got darker, and the silence was unbroken for some time. Mary's voice had almost startled them with its fervour.
"What is the hymn called?" asked Cecil presently.
"The first verse is:"
"When morning gilds the skies,My heart awaking cries,May Jesus Christ be praisedAlike in work or prayer,To Jesus I repair,Let Jesus Christ be praised!"
"But I am specially fond of the sixth verse—this:"
"The night becomes as day,When from the heart we say,May Jesus Christ be praised!The powers of darkness fear,When this sweet chant they hear,May Jesus Christ be praised!"
"I'll learn it," said Nancy, and perhaps the others thought the same, for Tom said gently, as he smoothed his sister's hand, "I should think it was almost worth while being ill!"
"HERE is the first Sunday in December, Mary!" said Tom, as he went to draw the curtains. "We may as well sit in the firelight till the tea comes in."
"Yes, do let us!" said Nancy with a contented sort of sigh, as she nestled up close to her sister and laid her head on her shoulder.
"It will soon be the shortest day," remarked Mary. "I do love the shortest day!"
"Why?" asked Cecil.
"Because I always feel as if 'the summer had begun,'" smiled Mary.
"In mid-winter?" asked Cecil.
"Yes. When the shortest day comes, I say to myself, 'My summer has begun.' You cannot think how, to rejoice in the lengthening days, seems to shorten the winter!"
"I daresay it does," said Tom reflectively.
"Every bit of hopefulness does one good, you know," Mary went on softly. "You laugh at me for quoting 'Pa Gladden' so often, but he says 'Human nature air always huntin' for the cheerful,' and I have noticed that cheery people bring sunshine."
"I know one thing," said Cecil, "gloomy people are never liked."
"Well, there is no better way of being cheerful than to have a firm hope in God," said Mary. "I was reading the other day one verse with a whole list of names, that David, in exulting thankfulness, calls the Lord his God. Just listen to them, and see if your heart does not grow stronger and braver and more hopeful as I repeat them—"
Mary's little Bible was tucked into her workbasket close handy, and she leant down toward the blaze of the fire to read the very words.
"'The Lord is my Rock, and my Fortress, and my Deliverer;my God, my Strength, in whom I will trust;my Buckler, and the horn of my Salvation, and my High Tower.'"
"A pretty good list!" said Cecil smiling. "Where is it, Mary?"
"The second verse of the eighteenth Psalm."
"All in one verse?" asked Nancy.
"All in one verse! That is a verse for those who are out in the world, fighting the everyday battles; and there is another for the weak and tired ones, that is just as wonderful—"
"Well, let's have it," said Tom in his blunt hearty fashion, "then we can take our choice."
Mary turned over the leaves rapidly, and her gentle face glowed in the firelight as she read from the 32nd of Isaiah:
"'And a man shall be as an Hiding-place from the wind;and a Covert from the tempest;as Rivers of Water in a dry place;as the Shadow of a Great Rock in a weary land.'"
The little head that rested on Mary's shoulder nestled closer, as Nancy murmured, "That's a nice one for the shortest day; and the other one will do for the New Year!"
THE END