After all, her best consolation was her father's verse; and then too, he had been so sure of its truth: "God holds us in his hand, God knows the best to send." She believed it too; and as she repeated the lines to herself, her heart grew lighter, and even her needle moved more easily, as if inspired by the cheering thoughts.

Yet the days were long and wearisome, and their stillness followed her when she went home to her uncle and aunt.
She reached home just in time for supper.

Uncle Titus always held the newspaper before his face, and read and ate behind its ample shelter.

Aunt Ninette spoke in whispers all the while, and asked only the most necessary questions, in order not to disturb her husband.

Dora said little; and less every day, as she grew accustomed to this silent life.