Tomorrow About This Time (40 page)

And then she heard Silver’s voice. Was she maybe in heaven? No, heaven was not built of stone walls, she was sure. She struggled with her eyelids once more and looked. It was Silver, looking down with that sweet smile. With all the power that was left in her body she summoned her will and crept to her sister’s feet. It seemed a long way, though it really was only an inch or two, and she laid her tired hands around Silver’s feet and pressed her hot lips to Silver’s little dusty shoes. Then she slipped off again, this time she thought for good.

Till she suddenly heard Barry’s voice. He was down on his knees beside her with an old tin cup of water.

“Say, kid, drink this, it’ll do you good. And say, kid, brace up, you’ll make it yet!” Then she looked up, and they were smiling, just as if they loved her, and her father took her hand and smoothed it. Why, he didn’t hate her anymore! The hate was all gone everywhere, just love left, and she was happy.

They left the tramp and his friend in the hut with the padlock securely fastened and carried Athalie down to the car. She wasn’t sure but that she was dead, and they were taking her to her funeral, but she was happy, so happy. Barry and the minister had made a chair and were carrying her down the hillside, while her father held her hand and Silver carried her feet gently, under her arm. It all seemed so wonderful.

They put her in the car and drove her home and laid her on a couch in the library while they all stood around talking, asking her questions that she couldn’t answer. Barry was telephoning to the chief of police and the minister talking to Silver with that light in his eyes. Her father holding her hand and looking at her and saying: “Dear little girl!” Just like that! “Dear little girl!”

It was all just what she had dreamed a home would be.

Then Bannard: “Well, I guess we’ll go home now. You all need to get a good sleep, and then, well, ‘tomorrow about this time,’ let’s celebrate.”

Greeves looked up and smiled.

“That’s all right, Bannard, we’ll do it, but I’d just like to begin now by saying that after this I belong to the Lord, soul and body. I have been a poor miserable sinner living for myself and railing out that there wasn’t any God, but He answered my prayer when I was in distress, and now I mean to live for Him and for my children the rest of my days, so help me the God that I have blasphemed!”

Anne Truesdale, listening nearby, said aloud to her soul: “It’s come, it’s come, it’s come! Th’ verra windows of heaven is open. Praise be!”

G
RACE
L
IVINGSTON
H
ILL
(1865–1947) is known as the pioneer of Christian romance. Grace wrote more than a hundred faith-inspired books during her lifetime. When her first husband died, leaving her with two daughters to raise, writing became a way to make a living, but she always recognized storytelling as a way to share her faith in God. She has touched countless lives through the years and continues to touch lives today. Her books feature moving stories, delightful characters, and love in its purest form.

Love Endures
Grace Livingston Hill Classics

Available in 2012

The Beloved Stranger
The Prodigal Girl
A New Name
Re-Creations
Tomorrow about This Time
Crimson Roses
Blue Ruin
Coming Through the Rye
The Christmas Bride
Ariel Custer
Not Under the Law
Job’s Niece