"Do you remember that verse in the Prayer Book version of the Psalms—'He will not be always chiding'? I would not, if I were you, get into a way of expecting God to be 'always chiding.' He does not chide except when it is really needful. If you did what was wrong, then probably you have had your punishment—your required discipline—in the accident and the dull days following, not to speak of the disappointment in your friend, from whom you had expected so much. Some of that time was rather hard to bear, was it not? And perhaps you did bear it patiently; and then in love and kindness, this joy was brought to you, out of your very discipline. One sees that sort of thing so often with those who love and trust Him!" "And I have not said one word about your trouble," Euphrasia presently observed. "But indeed I have been thinking about you a great deal. I am so very very sorry!" "People waste far too much pity upon us. Life has plenty of happiness still, without wealth. I don't say that the loss of money is not in any sense a trial. Of course, it is meant to be that, but I 'do' say I would not have things otherwise, if this is God's will for us!" "Only it seems so hard—" "Not hard! To some extent trying, but we have to expect trials. Things may turn out better than we at present venture to hope. If not, we shall be provided for,—one way or another. No one ever yet trusted God, and found Him to fail. And we do trust Him." She passed her hand softly over Euphrasia's, a smile on her face. "I am not boasting. A child does not boast of trusting his mother's love and care! He trusts because he knows what she is, because he cannot help it! It is no matter for boasting, but only for delight . . . Curious that I should have had for years a kind of longing to be allowed more opportunity for trust. Where one loves much, one likes to be able to show the love by action. And I have always been so amply provided for—never the smallest chance of unsupplied needs—never any loophole for wants being supplied straight from above. Room enough for trust and dependence in spiritual matters, but not as to everyday needs. It has always seemed to me that probably I couldn't be trusted with that. I have often thought how beautiful it must be to sit, like Elijah, waiting for the ravens, perfectly sure that they could never fail to come. Of course, I do not mean, sitting idly, not doing one's utmost; only when one's utmost is done, and the needs are not supplied, 'then' to wait for Divine action." "Ravens!" "Modern ravens would not wear black feathers, child. They come just as straight from God. But I have feared presumption in having such thoughts, and I have not allowed myself to wish. Now that this has come quite independently of anything we could do, it 'does' seem that to wait on them for daily bread may be very sweet—always knowing that He can never by any possibility fail His children." "Ought everybody to feel so?"