Phil's face lighted up with a grateful smile, which grew into rather a sober expression.
"I think it is all delightful; but—"
"But what, my dear; are you not contented?"
"Oh yes, more than that: I am as happy as I can be; but—"
"Another but."
"Miss Rachel, what becomes of all the poor sick children in the city who have no such friend as you are to me?"
"They suffer sadly, dear Phil."
"Then don't you think I ought to remember them sometimes?"
"Yes, in your prayers."
"Is there no other way?"