He was
in feeble health, and for over two months had not been able to go
out and attend to business. His wife was dead, and his children
absent. Of all this Mr. Fanshaw had been told on the way. His
surprise was real, when he saw, instead of a sad-looking,
disappointed and suffering person, a cheerful old man, whose face
warmed up on their entrance, as if sunshine were melting over it.
Conversation turned in the direction Mr. Wilkins desired it to take,
and the question soon came, naturally, from Mr. Fanshaw--
"And pray, sir, how were you sustained amid these losses, and
trials, and sorrows?"
"Through faith and patience," was the smiling answer. "Faith in God
and the right, and patience to wait."
"But all has gone wrong with you, and kept wrong. The friend who
robbed you of an estate holds and enjoys it still; while you are in
poverty. He is eating your children's bread."
"Do you envy his enjoyment?" asked the old man.
Mr. Fanshaw shook his head, and answered with an emphasis--"No!"
"I am happier than he is," said the old man. "And as for his eating
my children's bread, that is a mistake. His bread is bitter, but
theirs is sweet." He reached for a letter that lay on a table near
him, and opening it, said--"This is from my son in the West. He
writes:--'Dear Father--All is going well with me. I enclose you
fifty dollars. In a month I am to be married, and it is all arranged
that dear Alice and I shall go East just to see you, and take you
back home with us.
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