It's grown old and ragged with me, and the water and snow have faded it.
I've come to sort of believe that mother is always near this Book.

I'd like you to have it, Josephine.

It's the only thing I've got to offer you on your birthday." While he was speaking he had taken one of her hands and thrust his precious gift into it.

Slowly Josephine raised the little Bible to her breast.

She did not speak, but for a moment Philip saw in her eyes the look for which he would have sacrificed the world; a look that told him more than all the volumes of the earth could have told of a woman's trust and faith.
He bent his head lower and whispered: "To-night, my Josephine--just this night--may I wish you all the hope and happiness that God and my Mother can bring you, and kiss you--once--" In that moment's silence he heard the throbbing of her heart.