Faith looked dreamily into the fire. She was sitting in the old armchair, and a round table was pushed up to her side.
"I haven't got to settle to-day," she said. "I don't want to spend it all on one thing, I want to get lots of things."
"Make out a list, Faith," urged Charity. "Do it now."
But Faith would not be hurried. And Charlie was so anxious to start her cutting out patterns on wood with her fretwork saw, that she soon gave her whole attention to that. Charlie went home after lunch, but he was invited to come to tea, for there was a birthday cake, and Faith was going to pour out tea. Outside, it was wet and stormy, but the children were perfectly happy indoors that day, and Charity and Hope wrote down long lists of things that they would like Faith to buy with her money.
She was very tired when the exciting birthday was over; and when she was being tucked up into bed by her aunt, she said a little sadly:
"How can I thank Mr. Cardwell, Aunt Alice? It seems so dreadful not to take any notice, and not to thank him."
"It is what people call a legacy, dear. Only it was left to you in such a strange way. Nobody can thank for legacies, as they are left to them after the giver dies."
Faith lay still for a moment, then she said softly:
"Do you think that I might pray to God and ask Him if He would thank him for me. Would it be reverent to ask God to do that?"
"Yes, dear, I think you could pray about it."