ther's name was
bringing memories to Arthur, and he was thinking of the times in the old
nursery at Ashton Grange, when he used to be frightened sometimes in the
dark; and she had sat with him then, and told him about the angels of the
Lord encamping round about them that fear Him, and about the kind, tender
Lord Jesus, who takes care of all who put their trust in Him.

So she only put her arms around him, and kissed him very tenderly; and
then she went away. It was only just in time; for as Arthur heard the door
shut behind her, and knew that nobody would see or hear him, the tears
that had been burning under his eyes all the evening came at last, and
Arthur threw himself sobbing upon his bed. But his grief did not last long
that night, for he was very tired and sleepy. He was excited too with the
strange scenes and places, through which he had passed, and on which he
was just entering; so it was not very long before he was sleeping as
soundly in the white curtained bed, that his aunt had taken such pains to
prepare for him, as he had ever done in the old room at Ashton Grange.
That room was empty now. The little bed was there with the coverlet
undisturbed, but no curly head lay on the pillow; and as Arthur's mother
stood there thinking of her little boy, and of the miles that lay between
them, and that soon the broad ocean sweep would separate her from her
child, her heart sank very low, and she thought that she was like Rachael,
weeping for her children. But she was comforted, for she knew the comfort
of having a Friend, who had borne her griefs and carried her sorrows; and
when her heart was overwhelmed within her she said, "Lead me to the Rock
that is higher than I;" and He said to her, "None of them that trust in
Him shall be desolate." She listened to His word that says, "Trust in Him
at all times; ye people, pour out your heart before Him. God is a refuge
for us."

Is it not a happy thing, when a heart is full and bursting--so full that
it cannot contain--to know that there is One, whose name is Love, before
whom that heart can be poured out? Is it not the place where the Master
would have His disciples, sitting at His feet, hearing His word? And is
not that the cure for being careful and troubled about many things? And if
our hearts have chosen that good part, we know that He has promised that
it shall not be taken away. And as Arthur's mother thought of this, she
said, "Hide me under the shadow of thy wings."