"Why, Florrie, what are you thinking of?" exclaimed Miss Jameson; "you will catch a dreadful cold, coming down like this!"
"I don't care if I do," cried the child, wildly; "I can't bear it."
Miss Jameson caught up a thick shawl which lay near, and wrapped it about the child; then lifted her on to her lap. She was trembling violently from cold and agitation.
"Now, Florrie, tell me all about it," said Miss Jameson; "what is troubling you so?"
"Oh, you must know," cried the child, "it is about Edith. Katie can pray; she has prayed, and she says she is sure that Jesus will make Edith well; but I can't think so; I can't pray; my heart feels too bad. Miss Jameson, if Edith dies, I shall feel like—that dreadful word—a murderer!"
"No, no!" said her governess soothingly; "you must not think that, Florrie. You did not really hate your cousin. You said it, but you did not mean it."
"But it was wicked of me to say it: I shall have to give account of it in the day of judgment," sobbed the child, giving confused utterance to the thoughts that had been working in her disturbed mind. "And oh, Miss Jameson, I was glad that Edith was ill, and could not go with us to the Park. I said I was not, but I was really glad. I did not feel a bit sorry for her. But then I did not think that she would be so very ill."
"And now you are very, very sorry that you had such unkind thoughts. You feel how wrong it was. Well, you cannot ask your cousin now to forgive you; but you can and must, dear Florrie, ask your Saviour to forgive you. Kneel down now, and tell Him all about it, and ask Him to forgive you."
Florrie knelt down and hid her face in her governess's lap. She uttered no word aloud, only a sob was heard now and then; but Miss Jameson knew that the child was pouring forth her sorrowful confession in the ears of Divine love. She prayed too, both for Florrie and for her little cousin. Presently Florrie raised her head. Her eyes were still wet with tears, but the look of deep distress had passed away. "I have told Jesus all," she whispered, "and I have asked Him to make Edith well. Do you think He will?"
"I hope so, dear," was all Miss Jameson could say.