"The brighter and better way," he answered. "But I do know thy meaning, dear heart. And in truth, it is hard, and the flesh is weak. But remember, our Lord knoweth that as well as we. He hath not forgotten the days of His flesh, when He offered up prayer, with strong crying and tears, to Him that was able to save Him from death; though there were one thing (and that the worst thing) in His sorrow, that there can never be in ours. The way may be rough and stony--but, mind thou, it is only very short." "When it may last for all the life, Tom! Hard prison, and scant fare, and loneliness, and bitter mourning! Methinks the death were better than that." "Very short, still," repeated he, "to the endless days of eternity. The days of the journey be few indeed, compared with the number of those to be spent in the Father's House. And, sweet heart, even should we be forced to go that journey apart, we will strive to look forward to the glad meeting in the Home." "Apart!" she echoed drearily, and her tears came streaming back. "O Tom, Tom!" "I meant not to make thee weep again," he said, tenderly; "and yet there is no good in shutting our eyes on a sorrow that must come, though there be little use in grieving over such as may never come. It is not yet come; and when it so doth, it is only a little while. Only a little while, my Marguerite! `In the world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world!'" Thekla ceased her spinning, and coming forward to her mother, she passed her arm round her, and kissed her brow. "Mother!" she said, sweetly, "it may be God will let us go to Him together. Need we mourn for the night ere it be dark! It will be so sweet to go to Him. Will it not help us to bear almost any thing, to know that presently thereafter we shall see Christ, and be with Him for ever?" Mrs Rose was crying more quietly now, and Isoult rose to depart. Mr Rose said he would help her to mount, and she fancied that he wished to speak with her in private. And so she found it; for no sooner had he shut the door, than he said-- "Mrs Avery, what do you touching Robin's orders?" Isoult replied as she had done to Mrs Underhill, and added that she meant to talk the matter over with John, when she could do so quietly. "But, Mr Rose," she said, "your three years be already gone." "Friend," he answered, his lip quivering, "had I made it three hundred years, maybe it had been the better." "I pray you say not that you will not give her unto him!" cried Isoult-- for she guessed what that would be to Robin, and perchance to Thekla.