the good old man, resting from his hard day's toil, in his accustomed
chair, with not only his coat, but his vest and boots cast aside, little
guessed what prompted the caresses which Katy bestowed upon him, sitting
in his lap and parting lovingly his snowy hair, as if thus she would
make amends for any injury done. Little Katy-did he called her, looking
fondly into her bright, pretty face, and thinking how terrible it would
be to see that face shadowed with pain and care. Somehow, of late, Uncle
Ephraim was always thinking of such a calamity as more than possible for
Katy, and when that night she knelt beside him, his voice was full of
pleading earnestness as he prayed that God would keep them all in
safety, and bring to none of them more grief, more suffering, than was
necessary to purify them for His own. "Purified by suffering" came
involuntarily into Katy's mind as she listened, and then remembered the
talk down in the meadow, when she sat on the rock beneath the butternut
tree. But Katy was far too thoughtless yet for anything serious to abide
with her long; and the world, while it held Wilford Cameron as he seemed
to her now, was too full of joy for her to be sad, and so she arose from
her knees, thinking only how long it would be before to-morrow noon,
wondering if Wilford would surely be there next time their evening
prayers were said, and if he would notice Uncle Ephraim's shocking
grammar!




CHAPTER V.

WILFORD'S VISIT.