"Yes, Johannes, so far as I know."
"Then is the Lord his Shepherd, too?"
"Yes, Johannes," said his aunt, more seriously now, having in mind his former remark. But Johannes spoke quite innocently, as if deep in his own thoughts.
"Why is it, then, that he lacks so much? He has never seen the dunes nor the ocean. He goes from his bed to his chair, and from his chair to his bed, and knows only that dirty room."
"The Lord knows what is good for us, Johannes. If he is pious, and remains so, sometime he will lack for nothing."
"You mean when he is dead?... But, Aunt Seréna, if I am pious I shall go to heaven, too, shall I not?"
"Certainly, Johannes."
"But, Aunt Seréna, I have had a fine time in your home, with raspberries and roses, and delicious things to eat, and he has had nothing but pain and plain living. Yet the end is the same. That does not seem fair, does it, Aunt Seréna?"
"The Lord knows what is good for us, Johannes. The most severely tried are to Him the best beloved."
"Then, if it is not a blessing to have good things, we ought to long for trials and privations?"