It would, perhaps, have been impossible to find a child with a stronger belief in God’s power and goodness, or one who tried to walk in the right path more earnestly.
But along with it she was constantly trying to gauge the depth of her own truth and feeling.
On this particular night of the hanging of the picture she was especially wakeful.
“Now I wonder whom I really do love best,” she said to herself, “God or father?”
“You love your father best,” said a voice.
But because it was very low and even, she thought it must be the devil.
“I don’t,” she answered; “I love them differently, that’s all. Father lets me kiss the back of his head, but God I worship.”
“Did you hear that?” said Plucritus, turning to Virginius. “That is capital. ‘God I worship.’ Why are you not more clever? When I speak she takes me for an angel; when you speak she makes sure you are the devil.”
CHAPTER VII
The appearance of prosperity on the farmer’s part lasted for just about two years. During that time Maggie won a scholarship and went to another school. Deborah still remained at the old one, and still did the old home-lessons.