moment to get ready, Cecile."

"Never a moment to get ready," repeated Cecile. "I should have
thought you had lots of time. You aren't at all a young woman, are
you, stepmother? You must have been a very long time alive."

"Yes, dear; it would seem long to you. But it ain't long really. It
seems very short to look back on. I ain't forty yet, Cecile; and
that's counted no age as lives go; but I never for all that had a
moment. When I wor very young I married; and afore I married, I had
only time for play and pleasure; and then afterward Lovedy came, and
her father died, and I had to think on my grief, and how to bring up
Lovedy. I had no time to remember about dying during those years,
Cecile; and since my Lovedy left me, I have not had one instant to do
anything but mourn for her, and think on her, and work for her. You
see, Cecile, I never did have a moment, even though I seems old to
you."

"No, stepmother, I see you never did have no time," repeated Cecile
gravely.

"But it ain't nice to think on now," repeated Mrs. D'Albert, in a
fretful, anxious key. "I ha' got to go, and I ain't ready to go,
that's the puzzle."

"Perhaps it don't take so very long to get ready," answered the
child, in a perplexed voice.

"Cecile," said Mrs. D'Albert, "you're a very wise little girl. Think
deep now, and answer me this: Do you believe as God 'ull be very