“Yes; I know. Of course you believe it in a general way. Everybody does. But do you take the good of it? That, for instance—‘God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed.’ Are you never afraid?”
Christie did not answer.
“Do you remember what you said to me the other night about your sister, and all things working for good to those who love God? Are you sure of it? And are you always content with what God sends you?”
Poor Christie! She sat conscience-stricken, remembering her murmuring spirit through the day.
“If I could be sure that I am one of those to whom God has given a right to His promises, I think I should be content with all He sends.”
She spoke humbly, and in a broken voice.
“Oh, if one could be sure!” murmured Mrs Lee. “If there was any good or pleasant thing in this world of which one could be quite sure! Oh, how weary I am of it all!”
The charm of the reading was broken. She moved her head restlessly on the pillow. Christie went to her.
“Can I do anything for you? Let me bathe your hands and face.” And she brought some fresh water. “Sometimes when my head used to ache badly, my mother brushed it softly.”
“I thought your mother was dead,” said Mrs Lee, raising herself up, and submitting to be tended after Christie’s fashion.