"
"Isn't it too small to pray about?" said Elizabeth.
"Nothing is too small to pray about, my dear. Do you think this
little midge is too small for God to have made it, and given it life,
and spread that mother-of-pearl light on its wings? Do you think
yourself too small to pray? or your fault too small to pray about?"
Elizabeth cast down her eyes. She did not quite think it was a
fault, but she did not say so.
"Bessie, what was the great sin of the Israelites in the wilderness?"
The colour on her cheek showed that she knew.
"They tempted God by murmurs," said Christabel. "They tried His
patience by grumbling, when His care and blessings were all round
them, and by crying out because all was not just as they liked. Now,
dear Bessie, God has shown you what a real sorrow might be; will it
not be tempting Him to go back to complaints over what He has
ordained for you?"
"I shall net complain now; I shall not care," said Elizabeth. But
she took the little bit of paper, and Christabel trusted that she
would make use of it, knowing that in this lay her hope of cure; for
whatever she might think in this first joy of relief, her little
troubles were sure to seem quite as unbearable while they were upon
her as if she had never feared a great one.
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