172 TRUE RICHES; OR,

 

that all things would work together for their good.
She knew in whom she trusted. On the Rock of
Ages she had built the habitation where dwelt her
higher hopes; and the storms of this world had no
power to prevail against it.

How little dreamed gentle Fanny Elder—or Fan-
ny Claire, as she was called—when she laid her
cheek lovingly to that of her sick ‘‘ father’’—she
knew him by no other name—and drew her arms
around his neck, that he was suffering alone on her
account. In her unselfish love, Claire felt a sweet
compensation—while all he endured on her account
had the effect to draw her, as it were, into his very
heart.

As quickly as it could be done, Mrs. Claire got
through with the most pressing of her morning du-
ties, and then, the older children away to school,
she came and sat down by her husband’s bedside,
and took his hand in hers. As he looked into her
face, pale from sleeplessness and anxiety, tears filled
his eyes.

“QO, Edie!” said he, his voice tremulous with
wooing, ‘‘isn’t this disheartening? What are we to
do ?”’

“‘ He careth for us,” was the low, calmly spoken
reply; and, as Edith lifted a finger upward, a ray
of heavenly confidence beamed in her countenance.

“‘T know, Edie; I know, but”’

The sick man left his sentence unfinished. A
heavy sigh marking his state of doubt and dark-
ness.

“We must feel as well as know, Edward,” said
his wife. ‘God is good. In looking back through