holding fast by the little Pilgrim, always gazing round her, groping as
it were in the dimness with her great eyes.

"I have come because our dear Lord who is our Brother sent me to meet
you, and because I love you," the little Pilgrim said.

"Love me!" the woman cried, throwing up her hands. "But no one loves me;
I have not deserved it." Here she grasped her close again with a sudden
clutch, and cried out, "If this is what you say, where is God?"

"Are you afraid of him?" the little Pilgrim said. Upon which the woman
trembled so, that the Pilgrim trembled too with the quivering of her
frame; then loosed her hold, and fell upon her face, and cried,--

"Hide me! hide me! I have been a great sinner. Hide me, that he may not
see me;" and with one hand she tried to draw the Pilgrim's dress as a
veil between her and something she feared.

"How should I hide you from him who is everywhere? and why should I hide
you from your Father?" the little Pilgrim said. This she said almost with
indignation, wondering that any one could put more trust in her, who was
no better than a child, than in the Father of all. But then she said,
"Look into your heart, and you will see you are not so much afraid as you
think. This is how you have been accustomed to frighten yourself. But now
look into your heart. You thought you were very ill at first, but not now
and you think you are afraid; but look into your heart--"

There was a silence; and then the woman raised her head with a wonderful
look, in which there was amazement and doubt, as if she had heard some
joyful thing, but dared not yet believe that it was true. Once more she