"What's a draggle-tailed chit like her got to do with such a
thing?" he wondered, and then spoke to Joan:
"Here you are; and you must sign this paper--it's a registered letter."
Joan, her hand shaking with excitement, printed her name where he directed,
thanked the man with a smile that softened him, and then hastened away.
The girl was faint with hunger and happiness before she reached home. She
did not dare to open the letter just then, but took it from her pocket a
dozen times before she reached Newlyn and feasted her eyes on her own name,
very beautifully and legibly printed. He had written it! His precious hand
had held the pen and formed each letter.
Deep, wordless thanks welled up in Joan's heart, for God was not very far
away, after all. He had heard her prayer already, and answered it within an
hour. No doubt it was easy for Him to grant such a little prayer. It could
be nothing much to God that one small creature should enjoy such happiness;
but what seemed wonderful was that He should have any time to listen at
all, that He should have been able to turn from the mighty business of the
great awakening world and give a thought to her.
"Sure 'twas the lil lark as the good Lard heard, an' my asking as went
up-long wi' en," said Joan to herself.
She found her father at home and the family just about to take breakfast.
Gray Michael had returned somewhat unexpectedly, with a fine catch, and did
not intend sailing again before the evening tide.
Pages:
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212