“As years passed by, changes came into my life. My parents died, and I married, and had children of my own to care for. My life continued easy and pleasant and prosperous, as it always had been. I was very happy, and had never known what real trouble was. The death of my parents had been my only grief. I mourned sincerely for them, but in the love of my wife and the caresses of my baby boys I soon found comfort; and in this happy and quiet way my life flowed on from year to year, till, like somebody else of whom we read, ‘I said in my prosperity, I shall never be moved; Thou, Lord, of Thy goodness hast made my hill so strong.’” There was a pause, which the quiet little listener did not try to break. How much he understood of all this, how much he entered into the frame of mind described, the Squire did not pause to ask. It was plain enough that he was deeply interested in any story that dealt with the past life of one he loved so well. “My wife, Bertie, was a very good woman. You see her picture there. She brought up our children to be like her—how like I did not know for many years. I was very happy and very busy every day of my life, from one year’s end to another. I loved my wife, I loved my children very dearly. They loved me in return, and it seemed as if no cloud ever shadowed our peaceful home. Sickness never came within our doors. We often laughed at our yearly doctor’s bill, it was so very small. Everything seemed to thrive with us. Trouble passed us by as if it had no part or lot in our house. I began to take our happiness and prosperity so much for granted that I almost forgot to be grateful. “Not so my wife; her gentle voice was often raised in thanksgiving for the brightness of our lot. I always assented readily when she spoke of the gratitude we owed to God. I did not know how little my heart really responded to her words. I was soon, however, to learn that my service had been all this while little more than the service of self. “Fifteen years ago last summer, the cholera came to this country on one of its periodical visits. It attacked our village; but in the first instance the nature of the malady was not detected. Our good old doctor was himself ill, and away for his health, whilst his young assistant was quite inexperienced, and had never seen cholera in his life. We heard that there were many cases of illness in the village, and from what we heard we gathered that it was caused by some impurity in the water supply. We had never been in the least alarmed on our own account when attacks of sickness had from time to time taken place in the village. We had never banished the children, nor had we ever had cause to repent our temerity. My wife was assiduous as ever in ministering to the wants of the sick. Nobody called it cholera during the first week that it visited us. Many people took it and died, and a sort of panic set in; but that made my wife only the more anxious to encourage others by her own example.