"So dark and cold down there," sobbed Grace.
"But I'll not be there!" Mahla whispered. "Not in the grave a minute! I don't know what way I'll go up to heaven, but the Lord will know. O, he loves me so!"
After this conversation, Grace and Cassy walked home together very quietly. Grace looked at the fair, green earth and soft sky, and remembered some of the poetry Mahla had copied:—
"The world is lovely. O, my God, I thank Thee that I live."
As Grace repeated these lines to herself, she drew closer to her friend.
"O, Cassy, it's so lonesome to be in the grave!"
Yet Mahla, whom she pitied, was happier on her sick bed than even these joyous girls. Her clinging trust in God was more delightful than opal skies, and ruddy health, and even the dearest friendships.
The Children's Fair was held in the Music Hall, and was fully attended. Robin said there was no room for more people, unless you drove up some nails.
The benevolent enterprise had been undertaken by a handful of young girls, who had worked with great zeal in the very warmest days of summer; and since this fact was well known, it was enough in itself to bring a crowd of people out of mere curiosity.
The little heroines of the evening, dressed in white, with wreaths on their heads, looked as fresh as lilies, but kept modestly in the background, leaving the management of affairs to older people.