silently, for he was praying. At last he rose and went out into the passage, and called "Eppie!"
The housekeeper came, wiping the flour from her hands, for it was baking-day and all the air was full of a warm and homelike smell.
"Eppie," said the minister, "the Lord has been pleased to send me heavy sorrow. My sister Annie is gone."
Eppie raised her hands and let them fall at her sides again.
"His will be done!" said the minister solemnly.
"Ay! His will be done!" echoed the woman. "But, Minister," she added in another tone, "what about the bairns?"
The minister looked at her with a furtive glance, for he did not know how she would take what he had to tell her on this head. Eppie was not fond of children, and she was very fond of what she called a decent, quiet-like house; the
