" He checked
himself. Why had he saddened her? It was not his custom.
"When things are at the very worst, Jack, I've always noticed that they
take a turn for the better. 'It may not be my way; it may not be thy
way; but yet in His own way the Lord will provide.'" Mrs. Wainwright
spoke steadily and cheerfully. Her thin cheeks flushed with feeling. Her
tones were strong. Her smile was like a sunbeam. Doctor Wainwright's
courage rose.
"Anyway, darling wife, you are the best blessing a man ever had." He
stooped and kissed her like a lover.
Presently the whole family, Grace walking proudly at her father's side,
took their way across the fields to church.
Perhaps you may have seen lovely Sunday mornings, but I don't think
there is a place in the whole world where Sunday sunshine is as clear,
Sunday stillness as full of rest, Sunday flowers as fragrant, as in our
hamlet among the hills, our own dear Highland. Far and near the roads
wind past farms and fields, with simple, happy homes nestling under the
shadow of the mountains. You hear the church bells, and their sound is
soft and clear as they break the golden silence. Groups of people,
rosy-cheeked children, and sturdy boys and pleasant looking men and
women pass you walking to church, exchanging greetings. Carriage loads
of old and young drive on, all going the same way. It makes me think of
a verse in the Psalm which my old Scottish mother loved:
"I joyed when to the house of God
'Go up,' they said to me,
'Jerusalem, within thy gates
Our feet shall standing be.
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