Again Mrs. Landholm was silent.
"Cheer up, daughter," she said tenderly; — "I think I know what was the matter with Winthrop, and it's nothing so very bad — it'll be set right by and by, I hope. Don't cry any more about it."
"What is the matter with him, mamma?" said the child looking up with eyes of great anxiety and intentness.
"He wants to read and to learn, and I think it troubles him that he can't do that."
"Is that it? But mamma, can't he?" said his sister with a face not at all lightened of its care.
"He can't just now very well —you know he must help papa on the farm."
"But can't he by and by, mamma?"
"I hope so; — we will try to have him," said the mother, while tears gathered now in her grave eyes as her little daughter's were dried. "But you know, dear Winnie, that God knows best what is good for dear Governor, and for us; and we must just ask him to do that, and not what we fancy."
"But mother," said the little girl, "isn't it right for me to ask him to let Winthrop go to school and learn, as he wants to?"
"Yes, daughter," said the mother, bending forward till her face rested on the little brow upturned to her, and the gathered tears falling, — "let us thank God that we may ask him anything — we have that comfort — 'In everything, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving,' we may make our requests known unto him — only we must be willing after all to have him judge and choose for us."