Aunt Angie La Grange sat up with a spring of fright.
"Why, Carolina Lee! What sacrilege! You will certainly be punished by an avenging God for such blasphemy. You shock me, Carolina. You really do."
"Forgive me, Aunt Angie. I only meant to imply that the God I believe in is a God of such love that He never sends anything but good to His children."
"Then how do you get around that saying, 'Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth?'"
"There is authority for translating that word 'chasteneth,' 'instructeth.' But even if you leave it 'chasteneth,' it doesn't mean a life-long disfigurement or crippling of innocent babies. Supposing Peachie should disobey you, or even disgrace you, would you deliberately infect her with smallpox to destroy her beauty or send her into a train wreck to lame her or paralyze for life?"
Mrs. La Grange only looked into Carolina's eyes for reply, but her hands gripped the arms of her chair until her nails were white.
"Yet you are only her earthly--her human--her finite mother. How much greater capacity has the Infinite Heart for love!"
Mrs. La Grange stirred restlessly.
"It is beautiful," she breathed, "but--disquieting. It upsets all my old beliefs."
"'And good riddance to bad rubbish,' as we children used to say," said Carolina, smiling. Aunt Angie smiled in answer, but a trifle dubiously.