lly sadly, but trying to wipe away her tears.

"Let's have the comfort then," said Rupert, "if you've got it."

"Why, are _you_ in trouble, Rupert?" she said, rousing up. "What about?"

"Never mind; let's have the comfort; that's the thing wanted just now.
What would you say to me now if I wanted it pretty bad?"

"The trouble is, it is so hard to believe what God says," Dolly said,
speaking half to herself and half to her companion.

"What does He say? Is it anything a fellow can take hold of and hold on
to? I never could make out much by what I've heard folks tell; and I
never heard much anyhow, to begin with."

"One of the things that are good to me," said Dolly, bowing her face on
her hand, "is--that Jesus knows."

"Knows what?"

"All about it--everything--my trouble, and your trouble, if you have
any."

"I don't see the comfort in that. If He knows, why don't He hinder? I
suppose He _can_ hinder?"

"He does hinder whatever would be real harm to His people; He has
promised that."

"Well, ain't this real harm, that is worrying you?" said Rupert. "What
do you call harm?"

"Pain and trouble are not always harm," said Dolly, "for His children
often have them, I know; and no trouble seems sweet at the minute, but
bitter; and the sweet fruits come afterward. Oh, it's so bitter now!"
cried poor Dolly, unable to keep the tears back again;--"but He knows.
He knows."

"If He knows," said Rupert, wholly unable to understand this reasoning,
"why doesn't He hinder? That's what I look at."

"I don't know," said Dolly faintly.

"What comforts you in that, then?" said Rupert almost impatiently.
"That's too big a mouthful for me."

"No, you're wrong," said Dolly. "He knows why. I have the comfort of
that, and so I am sure there _is_ a why. It is not all vague chance and
confusion, with no hand to rule anything. Don't you see what a
difference that makes?"

"Do you mean to say, that everything that happens is for the best?"

"No," said Dolly. "Wrong can never be as good as right. Only, Rupert,
God will so manage things that to His children--to His children--good
shall come out of evil, and nothing really hurt them."

"Then the promise is only for them?"

"That's all. How could it be for the others?"

"I don't see it," said Rupert. "Seems to my eyes as if black was black
and white white; it's the fault of my eyes, I s'pose. It is only
moonshine to my eyes, that makes black white."

"Rupert, you do not under