“And in the first place, my dear,” to Posey, “thee is not free from blame thyself; from thy own words thee has failed in duty to one older than thyself, and yielded to the angry passion of thine own heart, and thus, it well may be, has failed of the lesson God meant for thee. For always remember, child, God puts us in no place he will not give us strength to fill, or sends us no trial that will not be for our good if rightly endured. At the same time if thy story is true, and thee has a truthful look, I do not think thee has been justly or rightly treated, or that thy return would be wise or best.”
Then turning again to her daughter, “The leading of the Lord seems to have brought her to our door. What is thy mind, Elizabeth?”
“Thee has spoken it exactly,” answered Mrs. Blossom, who often used the Friends’ language in talking with her mother. “As thee says, she seems to have been led to us, and I hope the time will never come when any of God’s children find ours a closed door.”
“Oh, if you will let me stay I’ll do my very best!” cried Posey. “Do you know I said yesterday that I didn’t believe God cared anything for me, but Ben Pancost said He did, that probably God sent him to help me then, and that He would take care of me again to-day, and I just think He has.”
“Dear child,” and Grandmother Sweet put one of her soft, tremulous hands on Posey’s head, “God’s love and care is over thee always; never doubt it, even if thee has not the outward evidence.”
“I am going out to Cleveland next week for goods,” remarked Mrs. Patience, “and I can go out to the Refuge and arrange about Posey.”
Miss Silence nodded. “Yes, and you know Cousin Allen Gloin’s wife has a sister in Horsham; she will doubtless know of this Mrs. Hagood.”
Posey lifted her head proudly, “I hope you will see everybody who knows me, and ask them all about me, for then you will find that I have told the truth.”
“We are not doubting your word,” Miss Silence assured her; “it is on your account as well as ours that we want to learn as much as possible.”
“All the same I want you to know that it is true,” she answered. “And—” hesitating a little, “if you know some one in Horsham couldn’t I send a word to Mr. Hagood? He will worry about me, I know he will, and he was always so kind that I wish he could know where I am and how good you are to let me stay. He won’t tell Mrs. Hagood anything about it. I am sure he won’t.”