will ask you to join me in singing the beautiful old hymn, 'All lies in God our Father's hand!'"
The song was sung, and then another, and several people called for one more, but then the weaver rose and abruptly declared the meeting closed.
It was long past seven. The room was almost dark, and the atmosphere stifling. It became a little lighter when the men sprang down from the windows—some outwards, others in. The meeting broke up in a red glow from the setting sun, and the people pressed towards the door with a deafening noise.
Emanuel was surrounded on his way out by people who wanted to shake hands and to thank him. The devotion of the people overwhelmed him with thankfulness. There was a perfect hum of delight and admiration around him. "What a handsome young man!" "Yes, he's a child of grace!" "So pious and good!" "They say he's so like his poor mother, too!"
At the entrance he was met by Else, who came up to him, and pressed his hand with much emotion, while child-like tears of joy stood in her clear eyes. He smiled and said, "Thank you, Else!" and looked round for Hansine. But she was not there. It was a little disappointment to him in the midst of his pleasure. Although he had not seen her, he felt sure she must have been there.
