Again she shook her head. She often oddly reminded him of Jane in her
employment of signs instead of speech, but in her case there was a grace, a
suggestiveness, and even a piquancy about them which made them like a new
language. He understood and interpreted her frankly. "I know, Alida," he said
kindly; "you are a good woman. You believe in the Bible and love to read it."

"I was taught to read and love it," she replied simply. Then her eyes dropped
and she faltered, "I've reproached myself bitterly that I rushed away so
hastily that I forgot the Bible my mother gave me."

"No, no," he said heartily, "don't reproach yourself for that. It was the
Bible in your heart that made you act as you did."

She shot him a swift, grateful glance through her tears, but made no other
response.

Having returned the Bible to the parlor, she put the breakfast on the table
and said quietly, "It looks as if we would have a rainy day."

"Well," said he, laughing, "I'm as bad as the old woman--it seems that women
can run farms alone if men can't. Well, this old dame had a big farm and
employed several men, and she was always wishing it would rain nights and
Sundays. I'm inclined to chuckle over the good this rain will do my oats,
instead of being sorry to think how many sinners it'll keep from church.
Except in protracted-meeting times, most people of this town would a great
deal rather risk their souls than be caught in the rain on Sunday. We don't
mind it much week days, but Sunday rain is very dangerous to health."

"I'm afraid I'm as bad as the rest," she said, smiling. "Mother and I usually