he will be offended--our Father--as if he were one of us?"
she said.

And then the little Pilgrim, in her sudden grief to have forgotten him,
became conscious of a new rapture unexplainable in words. She felt his
understanding to envelop her little spirit with a soft and clear
penetration, and that nothing she did or said could ever be misconceived
more. "Will you take me to him?" she said, trembling yet glad, clasping
her hands. And once again the other shook her head.

"They will take us both when it is time," she said: "we do not go at our
own will. But I have seen our Brother--"

"Oh, take me to him!" the little Pilgrim cried. "Let me see his face! I
have so many things to say to him. I want to ask him--Oh, take me to
where I can see his face!"

And then once again the heavenly lady smiled.

"I have seen him," she said. "He is always about--now here, now there. He
will come and see you, perhaps when you are not thinking. But when he
pleases. We do not think here of what we will--"

The little Pilgrim sat very still, wondering at all this. She had thought
when a soul left the earth that it went at once to God, and thought of
nothing more, except worship and singing of praises. But this was
different from her thoughts. She sat and pondered and wondered. She was
baffled at many points. She was not changed, as she expected, but so much
like herself; still--still perplexed, and feeling herself foolish; not
understanding: toiling after a something which she could not grasp. The
only difference was that it was no trouble to her now. She smiled at
herself and at her dullness, feeling sure that by and by she would
understand.

"And don't you wonder too?" she said to her companion, which was a speech
such as she used to make upon the earth, when people thought her little
remarks disjointed, and did not always see the connection of them. But
her friend of heaven knew what she meant.

"I do nothing but wonder," she said, "for it is all so natural, not what
we thought."

"Is it long since you have been here?" the Pilgrim said.

"I came before you; but how long or how short I cannot tell, for that is
not how we count. We count only by what happens to us. And nothing yet
has happened to me, except that I have seen our Brother. My mother sees
him always. That means she has lived here a long time, and well--"

"Is it possible to live ill--in heaven?" The little Pilgrim's eyes grew
large, as if they were going to have te