'But why did He not hinder it?' asked Stephen, speaking low and
indistinctly.

'Stephen,' said Miss Anne earnestly, 'suppose that I lived in a very
grand palace, where there were many things that you had never seen, and I
wanted little Nan to come and live with me, not as a servant, but as my
dear child; would it be unkind of me to send her first to a school, where
she could learn how to read the books, and understand the pictures, and
play the music she would find in my palace? Even if the lessons were
often hard, and some of her schoolfellows were cruel and unkind to her,
would it not be better for her to bear it for a little while, until she
was made ready to live with me as my own child?'

The young lady paused for a few minutes, while Stephen pictured to
himself the grand palace, and little Nan being made fit to live in it;
and when at last he raised his brown eyes to hers, bright with the
pleasant thought, she went on in a quiet, reverential tone:

'Perhaps we could not understand any of the things of heaven, so our
Father which is in heaven sends us to school here; we are learning
lessons all our life long. There is not a single trouble that comes to us
but it is to teach us the meaning of something we shall meet with there.
We should not be happy to hear the angels singing a song which we could
not understand, because we had missed our lessons down here.'

'Oh, Miss Anne,' cried Stephen, 'I feel as if I could bear anything when
I think of that! Only I wish I was as strong as an angel.'

'Patience is better than strength,' said Miss Anne, in a tone as if she