"Don't ask it, Patient," replied Celia, softly; "I like that--it sounds as if somebody loved me." "Eh, lassie!" said Patient, suddenly losing all her conventionality, and much of her English, "did ye no think I loved Miss Magdalene's bairn? I was the first that ever fed you, that ever dressed you, that ever bare you about. I was just fon' on you when you were a bit baby." Patient's voice became suddenly tremulous, and ceased. Celia rose from her chair, and kneeling down by Patient's side, threw her arms round her neck and kissed her. Patient held her tight for a moment. "The Lord bless you, my ain lassie!" she faltered, "You are just that Miss Magdalene o'er again--her ain brown eyes, and her smile, and her soft bit mou'! The Lord bless you!" Celia resumed her seat, and Patient her calm, respectful tone; but the former understood the latter a great deal better after that episode, and never forgot what a wealth of love lay hidden under that quiet manner and somewhat stiff address. "Well, Patient, what were you going to say to me?" "I scarce think, Madam, that you have had much dwelling by the waters of Babylon as yet. I don't mean that you have had no sorrow at all: I misdoubt if any man or maid ever grew up to your age without knowing what sorrow was. But there are griefs and griefs; and 'tis one thing to visit a town, and another to abide there. David knew what it was: 'My tears have been my meat day and night,'[22] quoth he. And though in the main I conceive that and many another word in David's Psalms to point unto Him that was greater than David, yet I dare say 'twas no pleasant dwelling in the cave with all them that were bitter of soul, neither fleeing on the mountains afore King Saul, nor yet abiding in Gath. He felt them all sore crosses, I little doubt." "Do you think that is what our Lord means, Patient, where He says, 'Take up the cross, and follow Me'?"[23] "I think he means whatsoever is undelightful to flesh and blood, that cometh in the way of following Him. Is the gate strait? yet 'Follow Me.' Is the way narrow? yet 'Follow Me.' Art thou faint, and cold, and an-hungered, and a-weary? Yet 'Follow Me.' 'My grace is sufficient for thee.'[24] My footsteps are plain before thee, My eye is ever over thee. 'Follow Me.'" "But, Patient, don't you think that sometimes the footsteps are not so very plain before us?" "We cannot see them when we don't look for them, Madam--that is certain." "Ah! but when we do--is it not sometimes very difficult to see them?"