What shall I do with myself, mother ?" "Gypsy," said her mother, very soberly, "this will never do.

You _can_ think.

And Gypsy, my child, in every one of these little thoughtless words and acts God sees a _sin_." "A sin when you didn't think ?" exclaimed Gypsy.
"You must learn to think, Gypsy; and He will teach you." Her mother kissed her many times, and Gypsy clung to her neck, and was very still.

Whatever thoughts she had just then, she never told them to any one.
The afternoon passed away like a merry dream.

Gypsy was so happy that she had had the talk with her mother; so glad to be kissed and forgiven and loved and helped; to find every one so pleased to see her back, and home so dear, and the mountains so blue and beautiful, and the sunlight so bright, that she scarcely knew whether she were asleep or awake.