Amy, both resentful and amused, fluttered,
like an alarmed chick to the brooding mother-wing, straight to the
minister's pew. Mrs. Barnes, smoothing ruffled plumes, proceeded with
stately and impressive tread to her place in front of the pulpit.
Doctor Raeburn was rising to pronounce the invocation. The church was
full. Amy glanced over to the Wainwright pew, and saw Grace, and smiled.
Into Amy's mind stole a text she was fond of, quite as if an angel had
spoken it, and she forgot that she had been ruffled the wrong way by
Mrs. Cyril Bannington Barnes. This was the text:
"Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good."
"You are a hateful, wicked girl, Amy," said Amy to herself. "Why, when
you have so much to make you happy, are you so easily upset by a fretful
old lady, who is, after all, your friend, and would stand by you if
there were need?"
Amy did not know it, but it was Grace's sweet and tranquil look that had
brought the text to her mind. One of the dearest things in life is that
we may do good and not know that we are doing it.
When the Sunday hush fell on the house of which Mrs. Wainwright had
spoken Grace came softly tapping at the door.
"Yes, dear," called her mother; "come right in."
"Mamma," said Grace, after a few minutes, "will you tell me plainly, if
you don't mind, what is worrying papa? I don't mean generally, but what
special trouble is on his mind to-day?"
"Potter's bill, I have no doubt," said the mother, quietly.
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