52 THE FLOWERS

“They were cross with me last night, my
father,” she answered.

“ And are they not so often?” I asked.

“T don’t think they are,” she replied.

“That is, you do not think much about
them?” I said.

“T do,” she replied ; “I love them; yes, I
hope I love them.”

“Then you have not perceived that they
are unkind to you?” I added.

“ Not to me particularly,” she answered :
“they sometimes quarrel a little amongst them-
selves ; but is not that what we must expect ?
Are not our hearts bad, father; and do we
not all do wrong at times? But when they
are cross, I think of my happy home, and then
I do not mind it; and I have such delight
sometimes when I am alone in my room, and
see the sun set, and think of that distant time
when I shall be with my beloved Saviour, as
I could not describe.”

“ Then it is because your mind is fixed on
the world which is to come, that you do not
enter into the quarrels of your companions,
My little Aimée,” I said, “if this be the true
state of the case, you are a happy child indeed,
happy and blessed beyond all the children I