must do nothing, sir, but wait with patience. Besides, Thomas and I need
no anxiety at all. God gives us more than we require, and it would be
very wicked to be restless and unquiet."

"Margaret," I said impressively, "there is heaven!"

"Yes," she answered quickly, "that I'm sure of. I read of it before I
lost my eyes; and since my blindness I have seen it often. God is very
good to the afflicted, and none but the afflicted know how He makes up
for what He takes away. I have seen heaven, sir, though I have not sight
enough to know your face. Do you play dominoes, Mr--what did you say
your name was, sir?"

"You trifle, Margaret."

"Oh, no indeed, sir. But how wonderful and quick my touch has got, and
how kind is heaven there, sir! I can see the dominoes with my
fingers--touch is just as good as sight. Just think how many hours a
poor blind creature has, that must be filled up some way or another! I
like to keep to myself, and think, and think; but not always--and
sometimes I want Thomas to read to me; and when that's over, I feel a
want of something else. I'll tell you what it is--my eyes they want to
open. When that's the case, I always play at dominoes, and then the
feeling goes away. Thomas can tell you that, for he plays with me."

I continued the conversation for an hour, and with the same result. I
grew annoyed and irritated--not with the deluded sinner, as I deemed
her, but with myself, the feeble and unequal instrument. For a second
time I had attempted to comply with the instructions of my master, and
for a second time had I been foiled, and driven back in melancholy