"I am not very young, daughter," he returned pleasantly, "though I think my natural strength has not abated, and life seems as enjoyable to me as ever. But the happy thought is that God our heavenly Father rules and reigns and shall choose all our changes for us; for to his wisdom and love there is no limit. How sweet are the words, 'I have loved thee with an everlasting love,' 'As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you.' If we are his children we need not fear to trust our all in his hands. We need not desire to choose for ourselves as regards the things of this life, or the time when he shall call us to our heavenly home." "That is a very sweet thought, father," she said. "What a care and anxiety it would be to us to have to choose all those changes for ourselves. How kind in the dear Lord Jesus to bid his disciples to take no thought--which you have explained to me means no care or anxiety--for the morrow--telling them that 'Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.'" "Yes; and when troubled with cares and fears for the future we may be sure that it is because we are lacking in that faith which trusts all in his hands." "Oh, I want that faith!" she exclaimed earnestly, though her voice was low and sweet. "Papa, pray for me that I may have it." "I will, daughter, I do," he said; "there is nothing I desire more strongly for you and all my dear children than that." They were silent for a moment, then she asked, "Where are we now, papa? and to what port bound as the first?" "We are nearing Delaware Bay," he replied, "and expect to pass up it and the river to Philadelphia, where we will add Grandpa and Grandma Dinsmore to our party, then come down and round the southern part of New Jersey and on up the eastern coast to Atlantic City. Rooms have been engaged for us at Haddon Hall and there we purpose staying for perhaps a fortnight, then we think of going on up the New England coast, perhaps as far as Bar Harbor in Maine." "Oh, I like that plan," she said; "for we have never yet visited either of those places, and I have wanted to see them both." "I shall be glad to give you that pleasure, daughter," he said. "Now it is high time you were in bed and asleep; so bid me good-night and go." Our travellers reached Philadelphia the next day, took on board Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore, passed down the river and bay again, and up the Atlantic coast to the city of that name, as the captain had planned. They were charmed with their quarters; rooms near the sea--looking out directly upon it--with a private porch where they could sit and enjoy the breeze and an extended view of the ocean, watching the vessels pass and repass, outward bound or coming from distant ports to the harbors farther up the coast. Strolling along the broad plank walk, four miles in length and close to the sea, was another pleasure; as were also the driving down on the beach at low tide, and the little excursions out to Longport and other adjacent villages.