The star was forgotten.
Nanna was darning some towels. As Phebe uttered the last word, she let the work drop and looked up, then instantly picked it up again and went on, without uttering a word. Phebe instinctively knew Nanna did not agree with her, and just a little feeling of resentment took possession of her. Nanna ought to have sympathised with her, and protected her from such an overwhelming request.
"I'm sorry," said Jim; "p'raps you'll think better of it a little later on. I can't tell you how sorry I am."
"I cannot help it. I am altogether unequal and unfitted for such a work. But that does not say I will not help you in some other way, for I do admire your earnestness so much. I will do my very best to find some one who would undertake it."
"Well, that certainly is the next best thing," said Jim, feeling considerably relieved, and with that understanding they parted.
Nanna still went on with her darning.
"You do not think I have done right, Nanna?"
"No, I do not."
"But it would not be possible for me to do such a thing."
"God has opened a door for you, and you have put out your hand to close it."