A lady who had lost a beloved child, was so oppressed with grief; that she even secluded herself from the society of her own family, and kept herself locked in her chamber, but was at length prevailed on by her husband to come down stairs, and take a walk in the garden. While there, she stooped to pluck a flower; but her husband appeared as though he would hinder her. She plaintively said, 'What! deny a flower!' He replied, 'You have denied God your flower, and surely you ought not to think it hard in me to deny you mine.' The lady suitably felt the gentle reproof; and had reason to say, 'A word spoken in season, how good is it!'