But we digress,—two days had come and gone without food of any kind, and as she had no breakfast to give them, Margaret had let her children sleep late in the morning; and when, ere she lay down at night by their side, she had looked on their pale wan faces, the skin prematurely shrivelled and wrinkled, the bones projecting in place of the dimpled roundness of childhood, she felt that their hours must be numbered, and often instead of sleeping, she rose and put her ear close to each, that she might be sure they still breathed. And she shrunk overpowered from the thought of passing another night thus; and then the weary day that followed—deserted by all, not a living thing came near the dwelling. Still strong in faith, Margaret cheered her remaining little ones till evening came, and they asked her to pray that they might go to their father and Moggie. She asked if they would leave her then alone? they said she should ask to go too. And then the second girl Jeanie asked why, if God heard prayer, he had not heard theirs and given them bread? It is written, “He giveth not account of any of his matters,” said the mother solemnly. “It is written, too, ‘He doth not _willingly_ afflict the children of men,’ and (in pity to the weakness of our faith, and as if to meet the very cravings of our questioning), it is most graciously written also, ‘What I do thou knowest not now, but thou _shalt_ know hereafter.’” This was said, as is generally the case with the Scotch in speaking directly of Scripture, in the pure English of the authorized version; it was also said, in a tone of rebuke, for perhaps nothing could have excited her feelings so deeply as the idea of unbelief of God’s Word, or distrust of God’s love in any of her children. It was as though the enemy had found entrance; as though the wolf, seeking whom he might devour, had got into her little fold. She took the child on her knee, “Jeanie, lass,” she said, “It is nae sae lang syne that you should forget the day your father corrected ye and kept you withouten yer parritch for dinner or supper, because ye’d displeased and disobeyed him; and did ye think _then_ either that he _could na’_ have bidden me gie ye the parritch; or that he had nae gude reason for not bidding me. Ye thinkit nae siccan a thing, Jeanie, and ye maun ken that your Heavenly Father has a right to chasten ye, as well as your earthly, and ye maun _feel_ as well as _ken_ that he does it for your profit.” The little girl leant her head against her mother’s shoulder and wept; and Margaret kissed her, and continued soothingly,—“I dinna expect ye to find it pleasant, lass, ‘for no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous.’ And this is grievous above measure, in especial for weans like ye; but remember we ‘do not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of the Lord.’ And pray, pray to him to forgive you the thought of your heart, and to make you ‘trust