“Then, Nan, they may be out to-night?”
“No, Miss; that ain’t likely—we mustn’t look for impossibles. They are in a stall a long way off, called Thomas Powell’s stall; and to get to that, they must work through thirty-eight yards of coal. That ain’t light labour; but h’everything that men can do will be done. Why, engineers and miners from all the collieries round are on the spot.”
“Nan,” I said, “I think I will ask God for one thing. I don’t mind telling you, but I have been feeling very bitter against God; but now if He brings me back David and Owen—both of them safe and well—why, then, I will love Him and serve Him always.”
Nan was silent for a long time—some thought knitting anxiously her dark brows.
“I don’t think I’d make a bargain with the Lord,” she said.
“Oh! but, Nan, you cannot quite understand; I have never told you the story of my life. I see now that I never cared for either Owen or David quite in the right way. I want to change all that. Yes,” I added, humbly, “I have a great deal to change. I had a beautiful home before I came here; and I grew so tired of it, I wanted to leave it. I know I vexed David—dear, dear David, by wishing to leave Tynycymmer; and then we came here; and he asked me to try, in the little ways a sister can, to help Owen; but I didn’t. Oh! Nan, I have not been at all good, and I want to change all that.”
“Well, Miss Morgan, from your own words, it seems to me you have a deal to ask the Lord to forgive you.”
“Yes, I know I have,” I added, humbly.
“Then why don’t you ask to be forgiven now—right away?”
“No, I cannot ask now. God is punishing me too hard. I don’t love Him now at all.”