"How can you take four black girls to Scotland, and you so ill, Ma? It is impossible."
"God can do impossible things," she replied in simple faith. "He will keep me and take care of them."
"What about your clothes?" they asked.
"We have none but the old things we have on: the ants have eaten up the rest. But God will provide what we need."
Sure enough, when they went to Duke Town a box arrived from a Glasgow church, and in it was all the nice warm clothing they required.
It was the same everywhere. Kindness fell on her like sunshine. At Liverpool she handed her purse to a railway porter, and he bought the tickets and fixed them up in a carriage. And at Edinburgh there was a faithful friend, Mrs. M'Crindle, on the platform, waiting to take the whole family to her home in Joppa.
"Isn't God good to me?" she often said, with a happy smile.
Alice, Mary, Maggie, Janie.
The four African foundlings were stared at by the rosy-cheeked boys and girls, who, however, were kind to them when they heard their sad stories. None except Janie knew a word of English, but they were all clever, and soon picked it up, and Mary even went to school in Portobello.