"What does He want me to do?"
"He wants you to give Him your heart," said the old lady. "Do that
first, and you will very soon find out how to give Him your hands and
your head."
"And will He keep away my Lord Polesworth?" asked the girl, earnestly.
"He will keep away everything that can hurt you. Not, maybe, everything
you don't like. Sometimes 'tis just the contrary. The sweet cake that
you like might harm you, and the physic you hate might heal you. If so,
He will give you the physic. But, child, if you are His own, He will
put the cup into your had with a smite which will make it easy to take."
"I should like that," said Gatty, wistfully. "But could it be right to
wed with my Lord Polesworth, when I could not love nor honour him in my
heart at all?"
"It can never be right to lie. Ask God to make you a way of escape, if
so it be."
"What way?"
"Leave that to Him."
Mrs Dorothy's little clock struck four.
"I think, if you please, Mrs Gatty," said Phoebe's hitherto silent
voice, "that Madam will be looking for us."
"Yes, I guess she will," answered Gatty, rising, and courtesying. "I
thank you, Mrs Dolly. You have given me a ray of hope--if 'twill not
die away."
Mrs Dorothy drew the girl to her, and kissed her cheek.
"Christ cannot die, my child," she replied. "And Christ's love is
deathless as Himself. `Death hath no more dominion over Him.' And He
saith to His own, `Because I live, ye shall live also.'"
"It should be a better life than this," said Gatty, with a sigh.
"This is not the Christian's life, my dear. `His life is hid with
Christ in God.' 'Tis not left in his own hands to keep; he would soon
lose it, if it were. Farewell, dear child; and may the Lord keep thee!"