seems as if my pain was needed for the fulfilment; otherways it seems all sent for nothing."
"Nay, Bessy—think!" said Margaret, "God does not willingly afflict. Don't dwell so much on the prophecies, but read the clearer parts of the Bible."
"I dare say it would be wiser; but where would I hear such grand words of promise—hear tell o' anything so far different fro' this dreary world, and this town above a', as in Revelations? Many's the time I've repeated the verses in the seventh chapter to myself, just for the sound. It's as good as an organ, and as different from every day, too. No, I cannot give up Revelations. It gives me more comfort than any other book i' the Bible."
"Let me come and read you some of my favourite chapters."
"Ay," said she greedily, “come. Father will maybe hear yo'. He's deaved wi' my talking; he says it's all nought to do with the things o' to-day, and that's his business."
"Where is your sister?"
"Gone fustian-cutting. I were loth to let her go; but somehow we must live; and th' Union can't afford us much."
"Now I must go. You have done me good, Bessy."
"I done you good!"
"Yes. I came here very sad, and rather too apt to think my own cause for grief was the only one in the world. And now I hear how you have had to bear for years, and that makes me stronger."
"Bless yo'! I thought a' the good-doing was on the side of gentlefolk. I shall get proud if I think I can do good to yo'."
