Maud interrupted her. "No, no. Don't ask why! The world is as God made it. 'We are His workmanship.' Let Him do with us as He will!" Toby's hands clenched. A frown that was curiously unchildlike drew the wide forehead. "Are we to be quite passive then? Just--slaves?" "No," Maud said. "Servants--not slaves. There is a big difference. And every one of us--every one of us--has God's work to do in the world." "And you think that bad people,--like me--can do anything?" said Toby. Maud smiled a little. "Toby dear, I am quite sure that your work is waiting for you." "Don't know where I'm going to begin," said Toby, with another sigh. "My dear, you have begun." Maud's hand smoothed the fair hair. "Do you think I don't know how hard you try?" Toby's eyes filled with quick tears. "But is it any good trying? Shall I ever get away from--from--" She broke off with a nervous, upward glance. "Shall I ever do more than begin?" she substituted rather piteously. "My dear, yes." Very quietly, with absolute decision, Maud made answer. "You are young--too young to be hampered by anything that is past. You have your life before you, and--to a very great extent--you can make of it what you will. There is no need--believe me, there is no need--to look back. There is only time enough for the present. Just keep on trying! Make the very best you can of it! And you will find the future will come out all right." "Will it?" said Toby rather dubiously. Maud bent and kissed her. "Certainly it will, dear. Never doubt it! It may not be the future we plan for ourselves, but it will be the very best possible if we keep on doing our best with the present." "Thank you," Toby murmured gratefully. "And you really think--you do really think--the past doesn't matter?" Maud was silent for a few moments. The thought of Saltash was in her mind, his jesting evasions, his air of careless proprietorship. What was the thing in this child's past that she desired so earnestly to put away? She wondered if she ought to ask, but she could not. A slight terror ran through the small, supplicating figure at her knee, and quick pity banished doubt. "I think it is entirely in our own hands, dear," she said gently. "The past can always be left behind if we work hard enough." "Oh, thank you," Toby said again, and gathering Maud's hands impulsively into her own she kissed them. "I'm going to work very hard," she said. "You'll help me, I know. I've got to--to leave off turning somersaults--and learn to--curtsey." She sent a shy smile into Maud's face, and almost in spite of herself Maud answered it. There was something oddly appealing, irresistibly attractive, about the child. She was so young and ardent, yet so pathetically anxious to please. "Of course I will help you," she said. "I will always help you, my dear." And Toby, emboldened, thrust warm arms about her neck, and held her close. CHAPTER XI THE BUTTERFLY