'Dying
is the first piece of good luck I ever had,' she said to Mr. Grubb.
'If it turns out that I've brought a curse upon an innocent creature,
I'd rather go and meet my punishment half-way than stay here and see
it worked out to the end.'
'"In my Father's house are many mansions,"' stammered Mr. Grubb, who
had never before administered spiritual consolation.
She shook her head. 'If I can only get rid of this world, it's all I
ask,' she said; 'if the other one isn't any better, why, it can't be
any worse! Feel under the mattress and you'll find money enough to
last three or four years. It's all she'll ever get, for she hasn't a
soul now to look to for help. That's the way we human beings arrange
things,--we, or the Lord, or the Evil One, or whoever it is; we bring
a puzzle into the world, and then leave it for other people to work
out--if they can! Who'll work out this one? Who'll work out this
one? Perhaps she'll die before the money's gone; let's hope for the
best.'
'Don't take on like that!' said Mr. Grubb despairingly,--'don't!
Pray for resignation, can't you?'
'Pray!' she exclaimed scornfully. 'Thank goodness, I've got enough
self-respect left not to pray!--Yes, I must pray, I MUST . . . Oh,
God! I do not ask forgiveness for him or for myself; I only beg
that, in some way I cannot see, we may be punished, and she spared!'
And when the stricken soul had fled from her frail body, they who
came to prepare her for the grave looked at her face and found it
shining with hope.
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