few minutes succeeded.

"Mamma, will you tell me what you mean exactly by my 'putting
my trust' in Him?"

"Don't you trust me, Ellen?"

"Certainly, Mamma."

"How do you trust me? — in what?"

"Why, Mamma, — in the first place I trust every word you say —
entirely — I know nothing could be truer; if you were to tell
me black is white, Mamma, I should think my eyes had been
mistaken. Then everything you tell or advise me to do, I know
it is right, perfectly. And I always feel safe when you are
near me, because I know you'll take care of me. And I am glad
to think I belong to you, and you have the management of me
entirely, and I needn't manage myself, because I know I can't;
and if I could, I'd rather you would, Mamma."

"My daughter, it is just so — it is _just_ so — that I wish you
to trust in God. He is truer, wiser, stronger, kinder by far
than I am, even if I could always be with you; and what will
you do when I am away from you? And what would you do, my
child, if I were to be parted from you forever?"

"Oh, Mamma!" said Ellen, bursting into tears, and clasping her
arms round her mother again — "Oh, dear Mamma, don't talk
about it!"