"Her Heavenly Father, for some wise purpose," was the response.
"Oh, it couldn't have been that!" returned the child, shocked. "You know God is Love."
"Yes, I know," replied Miss Fletcher, turning to her visitor in surprise at so decided an answer from such a source; "but it isn't for us to question what His love is. It's very different from our poor mortal ideas. There's something the matter with poor Flossie's back, and she can't walk. The doctors say it's nervous and perhaps she'll outgrow it; but I think she gets worse all the time."
Hazel watched the speaker with eyes full of trouble and perplexity. "Dear me," she replied, "if you think God made her get that way, who do you think 's going to cure her?"
"Nobody, it seems. Her people have spent more than they can afford, trying and trying. They've made themselves poor, but nobody's helped her so far."
Hazel's eyes swept over the roses and lilies and then back to Miss Fletcher's face. The lady was regarding her curiously. She saw that thoughts were hurrying through the mind of the little girl standing there with her doll in her arms.
"You look as if you wanted to say something," she said at last.
"I don't want to be impolite," returned Hazel, hesitating.
"Well," returned Miss Fletcher dryly, "if you knew the amount of impoliteness that has been given to me in my time, you wouldn't hesitate about adding a little more. Speak out and tell me what you are thinking."
"I was thinking how wonderful and how nice it is that flowers will grow for everybody," said Hazel, half reluctantly.