them all; and for a few days they rested in the faith that he would come
and be again in their midst. But, alas! how short-lived is the trust of
the human heart! how limited its vision! It cannot pierce the passing
clouds, nor stretch forth its hand in darkness.

Together they sat one evening, in outer and inner darkness,--again in
the shadows of distrust.

"He will never return," said one of the group, in sad and sorrowing
tones.

"My father will come," lisped the youngest of them all,--the one on
whom the others looked as but a babe in thought and feeling.

"I am weary with watching," said another, as she went from the window
where she had been looking, for so many days, for the loved form. "Our
father has forgotten us all," she moaned, and bowed her head and wept.

There was no one to comfort; for all were sad, knowing that naught but a
few crusts remained for their morrow's food--and who would provide for
the coming days? Lights and fuel too were wanting, and winter but half
gone. Even the faith of the eldest had long since departed, and he too
had yielded to distrust.

"My father will come," still whispered the little one, strong in her
child-trust, while the others doubted.

"It's because she's so young, and cannot reason like us," they said
among themselves.