CHAPTER SEVENTEEN“Is Ann going to die?” Tessa asked as Lydia tucked her into bed and kissed her good night.
“I hope not, darling,” Lydia replied, but she felt the tears coming into her eyes.
“Is she very ill?” Tessa asked.
“I am afraid so.”
“I am praying that she will get well,” Tessa said earnestly, “and Uncle Harold is too, I asked him.”
“We must all pray,” Lydia remarked.
“I always pray for anything I want,” Tessa said confidently. “Do you remember when God made Uncle Harold take me out riding after I had asked Him?”
“Yes, I remember,” Lydia said, her mind going back to those days in Cairo when she first knew Tessa.
“Uncle Gerald prays as well,” Tessa said suddenly. “I didn’t think he did somehow. I thought he was like Mummy. Mummy does not believe in God.”
“How do you know he
