Judith repeated: “Our Father, who art in heaven; Hallowed be thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven; give us this day our daily bread—Why, so it does. But I didn’t put them together before.” “The _will_ comes first. If we do his will, he will not forget the things we long for every day. Love his will better than your own will and wishes.” “That’s hard,” said Judith, “I don’t know how.” “That is what you are in the world for, _to learn how_.” Judith arose and stood before the grate with sweet, grave, troubled eyes. The yellow hair, the innocent face, the blue dress, the loving touch of lips and fingers, the growing into girlhood; how could she give them up and go? “O, mother, mother!” cried Judith, turning at the sound of a stifled cry, “Are you worse? What shall I do?” then in a tone of quick, astonished joy, “Oh, here’s Aunt Affy at the door!” VI. THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD. “What’s the best thing in the world? Something out of it, I think.” —Elizabeth Barrett Browning. From Genoa there came a note to Marion:— “Dear friend Marion: To-day’s mail brings me saddest and most unexpected news. I believed my Aunt Hilda would live years; I would not have left her had I thought she would be taken so soon. She died in Summer Avenue before she could be taken to Bensalem. Judith has written herself, the bravest child’s letter. She is in Bensalem with two old aunts of her mother. Roger hopes to have you for his housekeeper; you will be near Judith; will you take her under your wing? Her mother especially wished her not to go to boarding-school. She has always been a child of promise; she may fizzle out as promising children do and become only an ordinary girl; but she will always be sweet and brave, which is better than being brilliant. One sweet woman is worth a thousand brilliant ones; that is the reason there are so many more sweet ones. I would change my plans and return for her sake, but what can a bachelor cousin do for her? She will be sheltered from harmful influences in Bensalem. She will write me regularly. I have written to Roger about her money affairs. Your friend, Don.” In reply Marion wrote the briefest note:— “Dear friend Don: I will do my best for Judith. Yours truly, Marion.” “It will be the best thing in the world for Marion,” replied the voice of Marion’s mother. “There is no best thing in the world for Marion,” Marion told herself wearily, rising from the back parlor sofa, where she had thrown herself to be alone, and stepping softly across the room to the door.