Phebe smiled. "I should like to help your husband all I could," she said, "but I am quite unfit to talk to a dying man. Why not let me send for one of our good ministers? Or, I will ask my friend if she will go."
"I'm sure he won't see anybody else," the woman exclaimed, but Phebe was out of hearing. Presently she returned, saying in a very quiet voice that she would accompany her home at once. Nanna had firmly refused to go, saying it was a distinct call from God to Phebe herself, and that it would be wicked to disobey.
So in great fear and trembling Phebe went.
The man was lying on a wretched bed, evidently very weak, but with no signs of death about him. After inquiring as to how he felt Phebe started straightway by telling him how unfit she was to help anybody, being only a learner herself, and her very simple straightforwardness drew the sick man all the more to her.
"But, look here, missis," he said, turning on his elbow eagerly towards her. "You can help me all I want, and I'd rather have you than one of them preaching chaps as is paid to do it. What I wants to know is this: Do you think as how God is good and only does good things?"
Phebe paused for a moment, and while she hesitated the man was keenly watching her, with great hungry-looking eyes.
"I want my answer to be perfectly true," she replied, "that is why I waited."
"I know it'll be true," said the man.
Is God good? What about the taking away of her child! Could she say to this hungry, seeking soul He was not good? A thousand times, No—that she could never do. "I have been in great trouble lately—for more than a year the way has been very dark"—there was a choke in her voice.
"I guessed so," said the man softly.