Meg stooped down and kissed the dear little face; how she envied Poppet to-day! she was the only one who had had faith all the time.
“What did you wish?” she asked, though she knew without telling.
“That Bunty might be found this vewy day, and that they might find out about the money.”
“But I think I know a little girl who has said that in her prayers every day for five months,” whispered Meg. “Which do you think answered, God or the tree?”
The little girl was quiet for a minute, then she knelt up on her pillow and drooped her sweet, grave face with its closed eyelids over her two small hands.
When she cuddled down among the clothes again, she drew Meg’s bright head down to her.
“I was thanking Him,” she said.
[151]
]CHAPTER XIII.
PARNASSUS AND PUDDINGS.
“When for the first time Nature says plain ‘No’
To some ‘Yes’ in you, and walks over you