hoose Pandora as its recipient; she
only felt it possible to say it to the one, and too hard to utter it to
the others.

"It isn't only lonesomeness, and that isn't the worst, either. But
everybody says that folks that love God ought to work for Him, and I
can't do any work. It doth Him no good that I should work in coloured
silks and wools, and the like; and I can't do nothing else: so I can't
work for God. I would I could do something. I wouldn't care how hard
it was. Justine--that's one of my cousins--grumbles because she says
her work is so hard; but if I could work, I wouldn't grumble, however
hard it was--if only it were work for God."

"Little Christie," said Pandora softly, stroking the fair hair, "shall I
tell thee a secret?"

"If it please you, Mistress." The answer did not come with any
eagerness; Christie thought the confession, which had cost her
something, was to be shelved as a matter of no interest, and her
disappointment showed itself in her face.

Pandora smiled. "When I was about thy years, Christie, one day as I
came downstairs, I made a false step, and slid down to the bottom of the
flight. It was not very far--maybe an half-dozen steps or more: but I
fell with my ankle doubled under me, and for nigh a fortnight I could
not walk for the pain. I had to lie all day on a day-bed; and though
divers young folks were in the house, and many sports going, I could not
share in any, but lay there and fretted me o'er my misfortune. I was
not patient; I was very impatient. But there was in the house a good
man, a friend of my grandmother, that came one even into the parlour
where I lay, and found me in tears. He asked me no questions. He did
but lay his hand upon my brow as I lay there with my kerchief to mine
eyes, and quoth he, `My child, to do the work of God is to do His will.'
Hast thou yet learned my lesson, Christie?"

Christie's eyes were eager enough now. She saw that the answer was
coming, not put aside for something more entertaining to Pandora.

"Many and many a time, Christie, hath that come back to me, when I have
been called to do that which was unpleasing to me, that which perchance
seemed lesser work for God than the thing which I was doing. And I have
oft found that what I would have done instead thereof was not the work
God set me, but the work I set myself."

"Then can I work for God, if I only lie here?"

"If God bid thee lie there, and bear pain and weakness, and we