“Yes, oh, yes,” smiled Judith, “you always do every time I am.”
“I could not lie down in peaceful sleep to-night if I believed that my little daughter kept a thought in her heart she would rather not tell her mother.”
“But I shouldn’t keep silly thoughts in my heart.”
“That is what mothers are for—to hear all the silly things.”
“Then I’ll tell you,” decided Judith, bringing herself from a lounging posture, upright, and yet not touching her mother’s knees; “that night Lottie said there was a good way to find out what would happen to you next—to wish for a thing and shut your eyes and open the Bible and put your hand on a verse, and if it said And it came to pass you would certainly have it. We both did it, and she got her wish and I didn’t get mine. My heart was heavy, for I was afraid you wouldn’t like it as soon as I did it.”
“I do not like it. But I am glad you did it.”
“Why, mother!”
“Because I can talk to you about something I might never have thought about.”
“I like that,” said Judith, comforted; “I hope Cousin Don’s mistake will be good for him.”
“It is already. What do you want to know about yourself?”