ild, but he never will forget. And all
things he will make to 'work together for good to them that love him.'"

Diana shook and trembled with the effort to command herself and not
burst into a storm of weeping, which would have betrayed what she did
not choose to betray. She sat by the bedpost, clasping it, and with the
same clasp as it were holding herself. For a moment _she_ had
"forgotten her sucking child,"--the words came home; and it was only by
that convulsive hold of herself that she could keep from crying out.
With her face turned away from the sick woman, she waited till the
convulsion had passed; and then said in measured, deliberate accents,

"It is hard to see how some things can turn out for good--some things I
have known."

"Well, you ain't infinite, be you?" said Mrs. Bartlett. "You can't see
into the futur'; and what's more, you can't see into the present. You
don't know what's goin' on in your own heart--not as _he_ knows it. No
more you ain't almighty to change things. If I was you, I would jest
trust him that is all-wise, and knows everything, and almighty and kin
do what he likes."

"Then why don't he make people good?"

"I said, he kin do what he likes. He don't like to do people's own work
for 'em. He _doos_ make 'em good, as soon as they're willin' and ask
him. But the man sick with the palsy had to rise and take up his bed
and walk; and what's more, he had to believe fust he could do it. I
know the Lord gave the power, but the man had his part, you see."

"Mother Bartlett," said Diana, rousing herself, "you must not talk so
much."

"Don't do me no harm, Diana."

"But you have talked enough. Now let me give you your broth."

"Then you must talk. I hain't so many opportunities o' social converse
that I kin afford to let one of 'em slip. You must talk while I'm
eatin'."

But Diana seemed to have nothing to say. She watched the spoonfuls of
broth in attentive silence.

"What's new, Diana? there allays is sun'thin'."

"Nothing new. Only"--said Diana, correcting herself, "the Knowltons are
coming back to Elmfield. Mrs. Reverdy _is_ come."

"Be the hull o' them comin'?"

"I believe so."

"What for?"

"I don't know. To enjoy the summer, I suppose."

"That's their sort," said the old woman slowly. "Jest to get pleasure.
I used for to see 'em flyin' past here in all the colours o' the
rainbow--last time they was in Pleasant Valley."

"But God made the colours of the rainbow," said