"No; I only said, 'Suppose!' It may be, mayn't it? And you wouldn't like to say 'No,' and to make your life shorter, if God meant it to be longer—would you?"
"But if I shouldn't get through? Folks don't always! And I'm not ready. I couldn't bear to die like that—all of a sudden! Marigold, I should be terrified;" and she shuddered at the thought.
Marigold sat down, and bent over her.
"Mother, there's no need," she said. "Why should you be frightened, when you know that JESUS loved you, and died for you? HE loves you now, just as much."
"I don't seem to feel anything—only frightened. It turns me cold to think o' dying."
"It wouldn't, mother, if you knew HIM a little better, and how loving HE is; and how HE always keeps HIS promises. Won't you have a talk with Mr. Heavitree some day?"
"I don't know. Some day, perhaps. I like to hear you talk."
"Mayn't I read to you sometimes, out of the Bible?"
"I wish you would. I'd like that. My eyes are so weak, I can't make out many words now. And I'd like you to speak, too, just as you're doing now."
A sense of unworthiness crept over Marigold as she looked over the past few weeks. What was she, to be allowed to bring help to this poor sufferer?—She who had thought mainly of pleasing herself, of having what she wanted; she who had so far forgotten matters of weightier import! Yet in this moment of self-searching, Marigold knew which were the true realities of her life; and she knew that her real happiness did not depend upon Todd.