“There is no God in this, or if there is, He hates me!”
“Ah, my child, He loves you with unutterable love, and pities with unutterable pity. Yet a little while, and the day shall shine upon you; then you will know—a little while.”
I turned from the great vault above me, and looked out upon the restive waters, and as I turned I saw a shadowy Mrs. Purblind sitting beside me on the beach, and questioning with sad eyes and heart, the stars that bent to listen.
“I have tried,” she said; her face, usually so thoughtless, tear-stained, and quivering.
“Yes, I know you have tried,” I answered; “I have seen that!”
“But he is just the same.”
“Yes, and will be for a long time, and you will have to go on trying for years, if you want to carry him back to the old days,” I said.
“That’s one of the hardest things in all the world!” she cried passionately, “if we stop doing right—the right stops with us, but if we stop doing wrong and begin to do right, the wrong goes on.”
“Not for always,” I said, looking up to the stars.
“Oh, for so long!”