Mrs. Endicott's voice was low and sympathizing.
"I feel a little stronger, to-day, thank you," answered Mrs. Adair, smiling as she spoke.
"How is your breast?"
"Still very tender."
"And the pain in your side."
"I am not free from that a moment."
Still she smiled as she answered. There was not even a touch of sadness or despondency in her voice.
"Not free a moment! How do you bear it?"
"Happily—as I often say to myself—I have no time to think about the pain," replied Mrs. Adair, cheerfully. "It is wonderful how mental activity lifts us above the consciousness of bodily suffering. For my part, I am sure that if I had nothing to do but to sit down and brood over my ailments, I would be one of the most miserable, complaining creatures alive. But a kind Providence, even in the sending of poverty to his afflicted one, has but tempered the winds to the shorn lamb."
Mrs. Endicott was astonished to hear these words, falling, as they did, with such a confiding earnestness from the pale lips of her much-enduring friend.