God.'"

"That is all very well," she said; "but that is for one as well as
another, for me as well as you. And besides, people don't take all
things just as they stand. I am sure all the people I know live as
though their life _did_ consist in the abundance of the things they
possess."

"Well, I suppose the promise is not good to them," said Christie; "but
that does not hinder its being good to others."

"Then one need not trouble one's self about what is to happen, according
to that? One may just rest content and let things take their course?"
said Gertrude, incredulously.

"Yes, that is just what one may do, when one is sure of a right to claim
the promise."

"But what do you mean by having a right? And why should one have a
right more than another?" asked Gertrude, impatiently. But all the time
she was saying to herself that the quiet little maid before her was one
of those who might be content.

"I don't mean that any one has a right to claim the fulfilment of any
promise, except the right that God gives. You know the verse says it is
to them that love God for whose good all things work together. God's
people, it means--those who love Him, and those whom He loves."

Looking into her earnest face, it was not easy for Gertrude to answer
lightly, but in a little while she said:

"Well, Christians ought to be very happy people according to that."

"Surely," said Christie, earnestly, "and so they are."

"Well, I know some of them who don't seem very happy. And they strive
for riches and greatness, and all that, just as though their happiness
depended upon it."

"But no real child of God does that," said Christie, eagerly.

"Oh! as to that I can't say. They call themselves Christians."

"Well, we can't always judge people by just seeing them," said Christie.
"There's many a one who seems to be living just as other folk live, and
going the round that other folk go, and all the time he may be really
very different. I am not good at speaking about these things, but I
know that to a child of God His simple promise is worth more than houses
or lands, or anything that this world can give. No; we have nothing to
fear. Only we forget and grow desponding."

The last words were spoken rather to herself than to Miss Gertrude. She
sighed; but her face was quite untroubled as she rose, and laying down
her Bible, began to arrange the things in the room.

"You always say, `child of God,'" said Gertrude, wi