s lips. "Oh, no, He won't. I
asked Him every night for a year, and over and over all day; but I never
ask Him now."

"Oh, Flossie, I know what's the truth, but I don't know how to tell about
it very well; but everything about you that seems not to be the image and
likeness of God is a lie; and He doesn't see lies, and so He doesn't know
these mistakes you're thinking; but He _does_ know the strong, well girl
you really are, and He'll help _you_ to know it, too, when you begin to
think right."

The sincerity and earnestness in her visitor's tone brought a gleam of
interest into Flossie's eyes.

"Just think of being well and running around here with me, and think that
God wants you to!"

"Oh, do you believe He does?" returned Flossie doubtfully. "Mother says it
will do my soul good for me to be sick, if I can't get well."

Hazel shook her head violently. "You know when Jesus was on earth? Well, he
never told anybody it was better for them to be sick. He healed everybody,
_everybody_ that asked him, and he came to do the will of his Father; so
God's will doesn't change, and it's just the same now."

There was a faint color in Flossie's cheeks. "If I was sure God wanted me
to get well, why then I'd know I would some time."

"Of course He does; but you didn't know how to ask Him right."

"Do _you_?" asked Flossie.

Hazel nodded. "Yes; not so well as mother, but I do know a little, and if
you want me to, I'll ask Him for you."

"Well, of course I do," returned Flossie, regarding her visitor with grave,
wondering eyes.

In a minute Miss Fletcher, watching the children through a window, beheld
something that puzzled her. She saw Hazel roll Flossie's chair back under
the elm-tree, and saw her sit down on the grass beside it and cover her
eyes with both hands.

"What game are they playing?" she asked herself; and she smiled, well
pleased by the friendship that had begun. "I wish health was catching," she
sighed. "Little Hazel's a picture. I wonder how long it'll be before she
finds out who I am. I wonder what Richard's idea is in not telling her."

She moved about the house a few minutes, and then returned, curiously, to
the window. To her surprise matters were exactly as she saw them last.
Flossie was, holding both dolls in the wheeled chair, and Hazel was sitting
under the tree, her hands over her eyes.

A wave of amazement and amusement swept over Miss Fletcher, and she struck
her hands together noiselessly. "