"Why-because?" came promptly, as a matter of course.
"It is a place where little children cannot live. If we took you, you would soon fall ill. You would suffer terribly, and you could not run or play. Think how cruel that would be for us. You are healthy and strong now; and we want you to keep well. And so we are going to leave you for a while with those dear kind cousins, and they will take such care of our pet, till we come back."
"Why-because should I be ill, mummie?" Ivy spoke in a rather smothered voice.
"It is such a hot place, burning hot, and not fresh and cool like this. All little English children fall ill there; so their fathers and mothers dare not take them. Yet daddy has to go; and I know my little Ivy will be brave and good, and will wish mummie to go with daddy and to take care of him. And only think—" as she felt a heaving sob—"only think, sweet, what fun it will be for you to have Cousin Hecla to play with! She is only three or four years older than Ivy. You have never yet had another little girl belonging to you, in the same house. Won't that be delightful? You must take your new dolly, and you and Hecla can play with it together."
Though Ivy cried a little, as she nestled in her mother's arms, it was wonderful how bravely she took all this.
Of course she did not know what it really meant. She had no idea how far away her parents were going, or how long they might have to stay. She had never yet been parted from them; and she could not picture to her little self what it would be not to have them always at hand. She was so small.
But also she was, as her mother had said, "such a reasonable little girl." Though only five years old, she was remarkably sensible and full of thought. When once she knew that there were good reasons for what had to be, she would submit.
In this case she understood at least that "daddy" was obliged to go, and that "mummie" could not let him go alone; and that she might not go with them. And she submitted, not indeed without tears, but without resisting and fretting.
It seemed, too, as if the little child already knew something—already grasped just a beginning—of that which many people do not even begin to see till late in life—a full belief that God always knows what is best, and that whatever comes from Him comes in love.