“’Tis not easy for men to tell what does good, and when. We cannot as concerns ourselves; how then shall we judge for others?”
“I wonder what Rhoda will do now?” suggested Phoebe, after a minute’s silence.
She looked up, and saw an expression, which was the mixture of pity and amusement, on Mrs Dorothy’s lips. The amusement died away, but the pity remained and grew deeper.
“Can you guess, Mrs Dolly?”
“‘Lord, and what shall this man do?’ You know the answer, Phoebe.”
“Yes, I know: but— Mrs Dorothy, would you not like to know the future?”
“Certainly not, dear child. I am very thankful for the mist which my Father hath cast as a veil over my eyes.”
“But if you could see what would come, is it not very likely that there would not be some things which you would be glad and relieved to find absent?”
“Very likely. The things of which we stand especially in fear often fail to come at all. But there would be other things, which I should be very sorry to find, and much astonished too.”
“I wonder sometimes, what will be in my life,” said Phoebe, dreamily.