"Well, then, if you didn't want her to die, God knows you didn't; for he knows everything, don't he?"
"Yes, yes."
"And so it wasn't a truly prayer," added Fel, positively.
"And won't he answer it?"
"Why, what you 'spose? Of course not, Madge."
She seemed to feel so clear upon the subject, that I began to breathe more freely. O, it was everything to have such a wise little friend!
"But I oughtn't to said it, Fel! O, dear! What s'pose made me? You never say bad things, never!"
Fel thought a moment, and then answered, as she looked at me with her clear, happy eyes,—
"Well, you have lots of things to plague you, Madge; but I don't. Everybody's real good to me, because I'm sick."
I looked at her, and began to cry again. My little heart had been stirred to its very depths, and I could not bear to have her speak of being sick.