trees--just two or three disconsolate yellow ones that want to get away
down to the rest. They go fluttering and fluttering and trying to break
away, but they can't."

"That is just as I felt a little while ago. I wanted to die and get away,
papa; for I thought I should never be well again, and I should be in
everybody's way.--I am afraid I shall not get well, after all," she added,
and the light clouded on her sweet face.

"Well, my darling, we are in God's hands. We shall never get tired of you,
and you must not get tired of us. Would you get tired of nursing me, if I
were ill?"

"O, papa!" And the tears began to gather in her eyes.

"Then you must think we are not able to love so well as you."

"I know what you mean. I did not think of it that way. I will never think
so about it again. I was only thinking how useless I was."

"There you are quite mistaken, my dear. No living creature ever was
useless. You've got plenty to do there."

"But what have I got to do? I don't feel able for anything," she said; and
again the tears came in her eyes, as if I had been telling her to get up
and she could not.

"A great deal of our work," I answered, "we do without knowing what it is.
But I'll tell you what you have got to do: you have got to believe in God,
and in everybody in this house."