Mrs. Murray looked at her and said gravely:
"What is the matter, child?"
"I am only sorry I was so ungrateful and wicked this morning."
"How so?"
"Oh! everything that I love dies; and when I lay there on the grass, unable to move, among strangers who knew and cared nothing about me, I was wicked, and would not try to pray, and thought God wanted to make me suffer all my life, and I wished that I had been killed instead of that dear little baby, who had a father and mother to kiss and love it. It was all wrong to feel so, but I was so wretched. And then God raised up friends even among strangers, and shows me I am not forsaken if I am desolate. I begin to think He took everybody away from me, that I might see how He could take care of me without them. I know 'He doeth all things well,' but I feel it now; and I am so sorry I could not trust Him without seeing it."
Edna wiped away her tears, and Mrs. Murray's voice faltered slightly as she said:
"You are a good little girl, I have no doubt. Who taught you to be so religious?"
"Grandpa."
"How long since you lost him?"
"Four months."