"What do you mean, Jane?" said Eleanor; though it struck coldly through all her senses what it did mean.
"Dear Miss Eleanor," said Jane, looking at her lovingly—"I wish you was as happy as I be!"
"What makes you happy?"
"O ma'am, because I love Jesus. I love Jesus!"
"You must tell me more, Jane. I do not understand you. The other night, when I was here, you were not happy."
"Miss Eleanor, I didn't know him then. Since then I've seen how good he is—and how beautiful—and what he has done for me;—and I'm happy!"
"Can't you tell me more, Jane? I want to understand it."
"Miss Eleanor, it's hard to tell. I'm thinking, one can't tell another—but the Lord must just shew himself."
"What has he shewn to you?" said Eleanor gloomily. The girl lifted her eyes with a placid light in them, as she answered,
"He has showed me how he loves me—and that he has forgiven me—O how good he is, Miss Eleanor!—and how he will take me home. And now I don't want for to stay—no more now."