Alice and Beatrice

								

able to hear everything, and God who made our eyes surely can see
everything.’
Footnote 1:


Psa. xciv. 9.
Little Beatrice thought a little while, and then she said, ‘But God
cannot tell mamma when I am naughty, can He?’
‘No, my dear little girl; but you must fear God more than you fear
mamma. You can never be naughty without God’s knowing it; and are you
not afraid of God’s being angry with you?’
‘Mamma says that God is very good and very great,’ said Alice, ‘and that
He takes care of us always, and of the whole world; and will God be
angry with such a little girl as Beatrice?’
‘If Beatrice did not know that it was wrong to be naughty, God would not
be angry with her; but Beatrice knows quite well when she is good and
when she is naughty.’
Little Beatrice pressed grandmamma’s hand, and as grandmamma thought she
heard her sob, she took her up in her arms, and Beatrice whispered, as
soon as her tears let her, that she would try and be very good.
‘You must think more about being good, both of you, when you say your
prayers, and when you ask God to help you to be good children.’
Mary now came back with the candle, and grandmamma soon finished all
that she wished to do, and then they all went upstairs again; and it
seemed so light and bright when they were upstairs, that they could
scarcely see, and the sun was shining, and the rain had ceased. The
black clouds had gone away far over the hills, and the blue sky was
there again.
Alice and Beatrice clapped their hands, and were like the sunshine, gay
and bright; all their black clouds had gone away too. They put on their
hats and jackets to run down the steep path to the sea for their usual
bath; but before they went, grandmamma told them to be careful, for it
would be very slippery after the rain.
Alice and Beatrice walked slowly down to the sea-shore with Mary. When
they crossed the wooden bridge they were surprised to see how much water
was in the little brook. They stopped to look at it, for it was very
pretty: there was quite a waterfall just above the bridge, and the water
splashed and made a loud noise in falling. The grass looked more green,
and the flowers smelt more sweet, and Alice said, ‘Mary, I think that
grandmamma is quite right: the rain does a great deal of good. The grass
looks much greener, and the flowers look much prettier, and the little
brook does not murmur now, but it rushes and roars like the river Sid by
the mill. I know some pretty verses about “How welcome is the rain!” but
I never thought before how nice the rain was.’
‘When it is over, Alice; but not while it rains and you cannot go out,’
said Beatrice.
‘But grandmamma tells us nice stories, or shows us something. I do not
think that I mind the rain now,’ said Alice.
‘Oh! Mary, what is that over the sea?’ cried Alice. ‘How beautiful it