But you cannot be well when you feel like
that."
"I am perfectly well, so far as I know. I was so cross to Dora to-day! Why
shouldn't I feel happy when everybody else is? I must be wicked, papa."
Here Connie woke up.
"There now! I've waked Connie," Wynnie resumed. "I'm always doing something
I ought not to do. Please go to sleep again, Connie, and take that sin off
my poor conscience."
"What nonsense is Wynnie talking about being wicked?" asked Connie.
"It isn't nonsense, Connie. You know I am."
"I know nothing of the sort, Wynnie. If it were me now! And yet I don't
_feel_ wicked."
"My dear children," I said, "we must all pray to God for his Spirit, and
then we shall feel just as we ought to feel. It is not for anyone to say to
himself how he ought to feel at any given moment; still less for one man to
say to another how he ought to feel; that is in the former case to do as
St. Paul says he had learned to give up doing--to judge our own selves,
which ought to be left to God; in the latter case it is to do what our Lord
has told us expressly we are not to do--to judge other people. You get
your bonnet, Wynnie, and come out with me.
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