f
us 'cept You, and Jesus says, if we ask You, You'll give us bread and
everything we want, just like father and mother. Pray God, do! I'm
not a grown-up person yet, and Robin's a very little boy, and baby
can't talk or walk at all; but there's nobody else to do anythink for
us, and we'll try as hard as we can to be good. Pray God, bless father
at the other side of the world, and Robbie, and baby, and me; and bless
everybody, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen.'

Meg rose from her knees joyfully, feeling sure that her prayer was
heard and would be answered. She went out with her children to lay out
the shilling Kitty had returned to her the day before; and when they
come in she and Robin sat down to a lesson in reading. The baby was
making a pilgrimage of the room from chair to chair, and along the
bedstead; but all of a sudden she balanced herself steadily upon her
tiny feet, and with a scream of mingled dread and delight, which made
Meg and Robin look up quickly, she tottered across the open floor to
the place where they were sitting, and hid her face in Meg's lap,
quivering with joy and wonder. Meg's gladness was full, except that
there was a little feeling of sorrow that neither father nor mother was
there to see it.

'Did God see baby walk?' inquired Robin.

'I should think He did!' said Meg confidently; and her slight sorrow
fled away. God could not help loving baby, she felt sure of that, nor
Robin; and if He loved them, would He not take care of them Himself,
and show her how to take care of them, till father was at home? The
day passed almost as happily as Robin's birthday; though the rain came
down in torrents, and pattered through the roof, falling splash, splash
into the broken tub, with a sound something like the fountain in Temple
Gardens.

But when Kitty's shilling was gone to the last farthing, and not a
spoonful of meal remained in the bag, it was not easy to be happy.
Robin and baby were both crying for food; and there was no coal to make
a fire, nor any candle to give them light during the long dark evenings
of November. Kitty was out all day now, and did not get home till
late, so Meg had not seen her since the night she had brought the news
about her father. But a bright thought came to her, and she wondered
at herself for not having thought of it before. She must pawn her best
clothes; her red frock and bonnet with green ribbons. There was a
natural pang at parting with them, even for