the fields,
bigger than the sky. I can't tell you how big."

"O, well--and--what did you say your name was?" asked Hepsa.

"Genevieve;" and she pronounced it very slowly.

"It is rather odd," said Hepsa, trying to repeat the name; "but I want
to know if you ever laid down on the ground when it rained, and
listened."

"No!"

"Well, it is real beautiful; in the grass, it sounds _like bells_--it
sounds better where the grass is tall."

"I wish I could hear it," said Genevieve, sadly; "but my mother wouldn't
like to have me lie on the ground when it rained."

"How would she know it," asked Hepsa, "if you didn't tell her?"

"Why, Hepsa, I shouldn't want to if she wouldn't like it--I shouldn't
want to at all."

"I suppose, then, she won't let you come to hear me read?"

"O, yes she will, I know! I'll ask her, and she will kiss me, and say
yes."

So Hepsa told her where she lived, and Genevieve went into the house,
and Hepsa went home, feeling very happy about the flowers, and thinking
of the things her new friend had told her.

"She says I must love Tom, and that is so queer; but if the God who gave
me Tom, is the One who comes so near to me sometimes, I'll try; and,
perhaps, if I hadn't called Tom such names this morning, he wouldn't
have killed my poor cat." So Genevieve's words had sunk into Hepsa's
heart already.

Genevieve went to her mother, and told her what a strange little girl
she had found that morning, and that she had promised to go and teach
her to read, that she might know about God.

[Illustration: GENEVIEVE READING THE BIBLE TO HEPSA.]

On the next day she took some of her books, and, with some of her
prettiest playthings for a present to Hepsa, she went in search of
the house down the lane, on the other side of the village.

She found a gentler pupil than on the day before; and Hepsa's hair was
laid smoothly upon her forehead, her face clean, and though there were
some tatters in her dress, Genevieve did not much mind them.

The baby was in his cradle, fast asleep, and Genevieve went and knelt
down by the side of it, and looked at it carefully, as though she was
afraid of awaking it, and then whispered to Hepsa her admiration of the
little hands, which lay cunningly upon the quilt, and said how much she
wanted to kiss him; would he wake, she wondered, if she just kissed his
cheek, and didn't make any noise? Hepsa told her no; so she kissed him;
and then, after looking at him to see how