"Yes, mother," the little girl answered; "has it quite, quite gone?"
"Yes, I think, quite gone. It didn't seem an answer to your prayer when we saw your poor father brought home almost dead, but even then God was ordering all for the best! I've been ungrateful and unbelieving, but I'll try not to doubt Him any more. He has been so good to us all."
Molly smiled her sweet smile, that seemed to have lost its weakness. To all who knew her, it was very plain that the child's mind was gradually, but surely, strengthening. Tasks that it had been almost impossible for her to grasp a year ago, were now retained with only moderate difficulty; and, during her father's illness, she had learned to read. No one ever dreamed of calling her "Crazy Molly" now.
Sharp and clever she would never be, but there was in Molly a truthfulness and desire to do right which nothing could overcome. The love of Jesus, first implanted in her heart by means of Marian Morris' gentle teaching, had fallen upon fertile ground, and was bringing forth abundant fruit. It seemed that because Molly had the one thing needful, a firm trust in her Saviour, she wanted nothing else.
And now we must take leave of the family at Rose Cottage. Mr. Talbot speaks of pensioning old Burt, because he's getting old, and of putting James Lethbridge in his place. Evidently, he can trust him now!
Mrs. Mugford, too, feels that she is getting up in years. She is saying that by the time Jim is ready to leave school, she will be wanting help in the shop, and that he will be the very boy for her assistant.
Molly still keeps her picture of the Good Shepherd in the same place.
"We mean to keep it there always," she says, as she shows it to visitors. "Isn't it beautiful? And doesn't the Good Shepherd seem to be looking at us now?"
THE END.