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 dulness, 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 where 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 tears in them, and a little shadow
seemed to come over her. But the other laughed softly and restored her