she knew that she was very ill.

But what she prayed that night was heard only in heaven.

And so a few days passed on as before, and the house was gloomy with
the discontent of its master; but at last one evening the wind
changed, the sky became heavy with clouds, and before midnight there
was rain all over the land; and when the Master of the Harvest came in
next morning, wet from his early walk by the cornfields, he said it
was well it had come at last, and that, at last, the corn had sprung
up.

On which his wife looked at him with a smile, and said, "How often
things came right, about which one had been anxious and disturbed." To
which her husband made no answer, but turned away and spoke of
something else.

Meantime, the corn seeds had been found ready and waiting when the
hour came, and the young sprouts burst out at once; and very soon all
along the long ridges were to be seen rows of tender blades, tinting
the whole field with a delicate green. And day by day the Master of
the Harvest saw them and was satisfied; but because he was satisfied,
and his anxiety was gone, he spoke of other things, and forgot to
rejoice.

And a murmur arose among them: "Should not the Master have welcomed us
to life? He was angry but lately, because the seed he had sown had not
yet brought forth; now that it has brought forth, why is he not glad?
What more does he want? Have we not done our best? Are we not doing it
minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day? From the morning and
evening dews, from the glow of the midday sun, from the juices of the
earth, from the breezes which freshen the air, even from clouds and
rain, are we not taking in food and strength, warmth and life,
refreshment and joy; so that one day the valleys may laugh and sing,
because the good seed hath brought forth abundantly? Why does he not
rejoice?"

As before, however, of all they said the Master of the Harvest heard
nothing; and it never struck him to think of the young corn blades'
struggling life. Nay, once, when his wife asked him if the wheat was
doing well, he answered, "Very fairly," and nothing more. But she
then, because the evening was fine and the fairer weather had revived
her failing powers, said she would walk out by the cornfields herself.

And so it came to pass that they went out together. And together they
looked all along the long green ridges of wheat, and watched the
blades as they quivered and glistened in the breeze which spran