"
"I wish you would," said Hollis.
"I was thinking of Morris just then. But he was not in your school days,
nor in Linnet's. He belongs to mine."
"What else? Go on please," said Hollis.
"And then I was thinking that his life was a success, as father's was.
They both did the will of the Lord."
"I've been trying all day to submit to that will," said Linnet, in a
thick voice.
"Is that all we have to do with it--submit to it?" asked Hollis with a
grave smile. "Why do we always groan over 'Thy will be done,' as though
there never was anything pleasant in it?"
"That's true," returned Linnet emphatically. "When Will came Saturday, I
didn't rejoice and say 'It is the Lord's will,' but Sunday morning I
thought it was, because it was so hard! All the lovely things that happen
to us _are_ his will of course."
"Suppose we study up every time where the Lord speaks of his father's
will, and learn what that will is. Shall we, Marjorie?" proposed Hollis.
"Oh, yes; it will be delightful!" she assented.
"And when I come back from my fishing excursion we will compare notes,
and give each other our thoughts. I must give that topic in our
prayer-meeting and take it in my Bible class."
"We know the will of God is our sanctification," said Marjorie slowly. "I
don't want to sigh, 'Thy will be done,' about that."
"Hollis, I mean to hold on to that--every happy thing is God's will as
well as the hard ones," said Linnet.
"And here come the mothers for some music," exclaimed Marjorie.
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