Explore "The Black Forge Mills" by William P. Chipman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
A low sigh, that was all, but the quick ears of Betsy Branford heard it, and she looked toward the table at which her husband, with bowed head, was sitting, and then a heavier sigh escaped her own lips. She sat in a low rocker near one of the windows of their humble kitchen, paler and thinner than usual, for at her feet was a cradle in which a babe of only a few weeks lay. The babe slept quietly, however, and after that sigh escaped her, she turned and gazed out of the window and off toward the hills, with the same troubled look that had been in her eyes all the morning.
George was in great trouble just then, but the change that brought it was small compared with the change in him, wrought since the winter before. Having once accepted Christ as his Saviour, he had gone manfully about his daily duties amid his old temptations and associations, and in spite of jeers and ridicule he had kept the faith. He had grown wonderfully in grace also, and he and Sailor Jack had become fast friends, and had more than once knelt together and prayed for the Master's blessing upon the Black Forge people.