"You!" said Mrs. Barclay.
"I was as unhappy as anybody could be till I got it."
"When was that?"
"Four years ago."
"Are you much different now from what you were before?"
"Entirely."
"I cannot imagine you in need of forgiveness. What had you done?"
"I had done nothing whatever that I ought to have done. I loved only myself,—I mean first,—and lived only to myself and my own pleasure, and did my own will."
"Whose will do you now? your grandmother's?"
"Not grandmother's first. I do God's will, as far as I know it."