"But I must say it," she answered impatiently, "because I feel it, and it does me good to come out with it."
Marjorie did not speak for a few minutes, and Lady Violet said—
"Talk to me, Marjorie, scold me, if you like, only don't sit quiet like that. Tell me what you were thinking about."
"I was thinking about the eagle's nest, and that you were like one of the eaglets."
"What do you mean by that?"
"You know how the eagle makes her nest on the ledge of some high rock, building it of sticks and briars, and then lining it with moss, and hay, and wool, and soft feathers out of her own breast."
"Well," said Lady Violet, as Marjorie stopped, "go on."
"And then she lays her eggs, and the eaglets are hatched, and they lie down in the soft nest, and are so cosy that they never want to leave it. But, as they grow older, the mother-bird wants them to learn to fly, that they may be able to soar up with her towards the sun. So she hovers over them and tries to persuade them to stretch their wings; but the nest is far too cosy and snug for them to want to leave it, and they nestle down again in the moss and hay. But the mother knows all they will lose if they do not learn to fly, so she rakes out the wool and feathers with her strong beak, and makes the thorns and briars come to the top. Then, when all the soft lining is gone, the young birds shuffle about uncomfortably. The nest is not such a nice place after all, and by degrees they creep to the edge of it and sit there very miserably. And now the mother-bird again tries to get them to fly, and they spread their small wings, and she puts her great strong wing underneath them, so that they may not fall, and soon they are soaring with her into the glory above."
"Yes, go on," said Lady Violet.
"Do you remember that God says He is like that eagle? And so He rakes up the comfortable home nest, and lets us feel the prickles of pain and sorrow, not because He is cruel, not because He wants to punish us, but because He wants us to rise to something brighter and better, to the City of Sunshine. Now, Lady Violet, I'm afraid I've been preaching quite a sermon, and it is very good of you to listen; but don't you think this illness is one of the sharp thorns in the nest, to bring you to the edge, and make you care for something better?"