That's funny, for I usually remember to the last word; but this time it was so important, I wanted it so badly, and I was so in earnest that words poured in a stream.

I began by reminding Him that He knew everything, and so He'd understand if what I asked was for the best.

Then I told Him how it looked to us, who knew only a part; and then I went at Him and implored and beseeched, if it would be best for Shelley, and would make her happy, to send her the Paget man, and to be quick about it.

When I had said the last word that came to me, and begged all I thought becoming--I don't think with His face, that Jesus wants us to grovel to Him, at least He looks too dignified to do it Himself--I just stood there, still staring.
I didn't expect to see a burning bush, or a pillar of fire, or a cloud of flame, or even to hear a small, still voice; but I watched, so I wouldn't miss it if there should be anything different in that sunrise from any other I ever had seen, and there was not.

Not one thing! It was so beautiful, and I was so in earnest my heart hurt; but that was like any other sunrise on a fine July morning.