So said the mother, and she felt his plump little arms round her neck, and his warm little body nestling against hers.
“How good that it did not really happen! …” thought she.
“But that is not all, ma’am …” Molly insisted, in her usual blundering way. “That is not all. Sometimes only one person asks, and yet He can’t possibly do it. … We know that, quite well! … I know it, you see, because I take His messages,” said Molly, the angel, in just the same voice in which yesterday, after taking a message from her mistress to her master, she told the nurse: “I know master is at home, for I have taken him a message.”
“How often have I had to report to Him,” said Molly, “that someone—a young one generally—asks to be helped not to do bad deeds, not get drunk or live loosely—asks, in fact, that vice should be extracted from him as if it were a splinter!”
“How well Molly speaks!” thought her mistress.