Meantime, while the boxes were being emptied and the drawers were being filled, the other children were enjoying the first morning in the real country. They were revelling in wild flowers, moss, stones, and ferns; making imaginary rooms among the furze bushes, and decking "the drawing room" with bunches of wild roses, while they picked endless fronds of bracken to form couches for the bedrooms. A children's world is a happy world! No cares come to mar it, no anxieties enter in as to "what shall we eat or what shall we drink?" Their father's provision is sure to be right, he will provide dinner when dinner time comes; and here is lunch packed ready in the basket, why need they care? Lucia put on her hat and went up the road to see how they were getting on, and when she watched them from behind the bushes, for they were too busy to notice her, some such thoughts as these went through her mind— "I wonder why older people are so anxious," she said to herself, "why they let things worry them so? If we only trusted our heavenly Father as those children in their play-houses trust their earthly father, how different life would be!" She turned round and retraced her steps, without disturbing the little party; but though she left them behind, she did not leave the thoughts which they had suggested. She entered the cottage, fetched her easel and her painting materials, and sat down under the elms to sketch, while the bees buzzed dreamily, and the birds sang a ceaseless song. That quiet morning was a turning-point in Lucia's life. As her fingers were busily at work, making a sketch for her cousins, her mind went back to her aunt's housekeeper, and then to all her own disappointment and rebellion since. Had not her Father—her heavenly, loving Father—seen all these things beforehand, and prepared the path for her to walk in, that therein she might glorify Him? But it was so terribly disappointing to be called away just as her enjoyment had seemed to be at its height. And yet He knew that! Why was it that He allowed it then? She put down her brush and leaned her chin on her hand, looking off into the country landscape dreamily. Why did He? echoed again and again. And there was no answer but the ceaseless melody of the birds as they rejoiced in the Father's sunshine. CHAPTER IV. UNDER THE ELMS. "YOUR Father knoweth!" Lucia raised her head suddenly. It seemed almost as if the waving breeze in the trees overhead had whispered the words audibly. Then if He knew, why was it? Could she know too? She thought of an earthly father—the very best and dearest she knew—and she wondered how he would do with his children. He would take them a journey, and each day or each hour he would tell them which way to go and what he wanted them to do. The children would not question his wisdom or his love. The more unknown the way, the more they would trust him. They would trust and obey. "Your Father knoweth."