“That is just as I felt a little while ago. I wanted to die and get away, papa; for I thought I should never be well again, and I should be in everybody’s way.--I am afraid I shall not get well, after all,” she added, and the light clouded on her sweet face. “Well, my darling, we are in God’s hands. We shall never get tired of you, and you must not get tired of us. Would you get tired of nursing me, if I were ill?” “O, papa!” And the tears began to gather in her eyes. “Then you must think we are not able to love so well as you.” “I know what you mean. I did not think of it that way. I will never think so about it again. I was only thinking how useless I was.” “There you are quite mistaken, my dear. No living creature ever was useless. You’ve got plenty to do there.” “But what have I got to do? I don’t feel able for anything,” she said; and again the tears came in her eyes, as if I had been telling her to get up and she could not. “A great deal of our work,” I answered, “we do without knowing what it is. But I’ll tell you what you have got to do: you have got to believe in God, and in everybody in this house.” “I do, I do. But that is easy to do,” she returned. “And do you think that the work God gives us to do is never easy? Jesus says his yoke is easy, his burden is light. People sometimes refuse to do God’s work just because it is easy. This is, sometimes, because they cannot believe that easy work is his work; but there may be a very bad pride in it: it may be because they think that there is little or no honour to be got in that way; and therefore they despise it. Some again accept it with half a heart, and do it with half a hand. But, however easy any work may be, it cannot be well done without taking thought about it. And such people, instead of taking thought about their work, generally take thought about the morrow, in which no work can be done any more than in yesterday. The Holy Present!--I think I must make one more sermon about it--although you, Connie,” I said, meaning it for a little joke, “do think that I have said too much about it already.” “Papa, papa! do forgive me. This is a judgment on me for talking to you as I did that dreadful morning. But I was so happy that I was impertinent.” “You silly darling!” I said. “A judgment! God be angry with you for that! Even if it had been anything wrong, which it was not, do you think God has no patience? No, Connie. I will tell you what seems to me much more likely. You wanted something to do; and so God gave you something to do.” “Lying in bed and doing nothing!” “Yes. Just lying in bed, and doing his will.” “If I could but feel that I was doing his will!” “When you do it, then you will feel you are doing it.” “I know you are coming to something, papa. Please make haste, for my back is getting so bad.” “I’ve tired you, my pet. It was very thoughtless of me. I will tell you the rest another time,” I said, rising.