"
Grace looked up at him no more; but walked on in silence, pondering
many things.
"Howsoever that may be, sir, tell me what to do in this cholera, and I
will do it, if I kill myself with work or infection!"
"You shan't do that. We cannot spare you from Aberalva, Grace," said
Tom; "you must save a few more poor creatures ere you die, out of
the hands of that Good Being who made little children, and love, and
happiness, and the flowers, and the sunshine, and the fruitful earth;
and who, you say, redeemed them all again, when they were lost, by an
act of love which passes all human dreams."
"Do not talk so!" cried Grace. "It frightens me; it puzzles me, and
makes me miserable. Oh, if you would but become a Christian!"
"And listen to the Gospel?"
"Yes--oh yes!"
"A gospel means good news, I thought. When you have any to tell me, I
will listen. Meanwhile, the news that three out of four of those poor
fellows down town are going to a certain place, seems to me such
terribly bad news, that I can't help fancying that it is not the
Gospel at all; and so get on the best way I can, listening to the good
news about God which this grand old world, and my microscope, and my
books, tell me. No, Grace, I have more good news than that, and I'll
confess it to you."
He paused, and his voice softened.
"Say what the preacher may. He must be a good God who makes such
creatures as you, and sends them into the world to comfort poor
wretches.
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