ill. It seemed so easy, when I thought of the Lord Jesus dying for me

on the Cross. But—Nursie, I do feel afraid of having to live a long while, if I can't stand or work or do anything,—and nobody except father to take care of me. I'd a great deal rather die."

"I wouldn't be afraid," said Mary, leaning over the bed, and trying to smile. "If God is able to take care of you when you die, don't you think He's able to take care of you while you're alive too?"

"Yes,—able," said Daisy in a low voice.

"And don't you think He will, Daisy?"

"I ought to feel sure," said Daisy, with a distressed look. Then she asked quite suddenly, "Nursie, do you love God?"

"I hope so," faltered Mary Davis.

"I mean real love," said Daisy. "I mean the sort of love that makes you want to obey Him, and want to be with Him. You didn't in old days, did you, Nursie?" She always spoke of her childhood's years as "old days."

"No," Mary Davis answered at once, quite decidedly. "I don't say I hadn't a sort of wish to do right, Miss Daisy, but I didn't really try to serve God from my heart, and I don't think I loved Him at all."

"And you do now?"

"I hope so," said Mary Davis.

"I hope I do too," said Daisy slowly. Then she paused, and looked up, a bright smile lighting her whole face. "No,—I don't hope—I know I do. I think I love the Lord Jesus in just the sort of way I used to love mother. I can't love poor father like that, can I? It is more like being so very sorry for him. Nursie, I don't know what I should do, if God didn't love me. I don't know what in the world I should do. It's just my one real comfort."

"Then, Miss Daisy," said Mary, "if you feel like that, you won't need to be frightened any more about getting well, because you know He'll take care of you. Hasn't He said, 'I will never leave thee nor forsake thee'?"

"Yes," said Daisy thoughtfully, "I am quite sure. I ought to be quite sure. I suppose that is the real meaning of 'casting all your care on Him, for He careth for you.' I'll try not to be afraid any more."