ou everything you want.'

'Does fathers always do that?'

'Of course they do. Fathers always love their children, and work for
them, and care for them. And the great God is called Father because He
loves you.'

Bobby thought over this. And he hugged the thought to his heart that
he had two fathers, both far away, but both loving him. He knew that
God was the nearest to him; he was told that He watched over him night
and day, and could always hear him when he spoke to Him. But his heart
went out to his earthly father in an unknown country. And he used to
be constantly picturing his return.

On the whole, though he had very big thoughts, and fits of dreaming,
Bobby was a happy, merry little soul. Sometimes he strayed along the
big passage and peeped through the green baize door which led down the
front stairs. He had a way of asking Jane what 'the House' was doing,
'the House' being his grandmother, and uncle and aunt, and their
visitors. Occasionally he would make breathless little excursions of
his own into the rooms which seemed so strange and wonderful to him.
This was generally in the very early morning, or in the afternoon, when
everyone was out of doors. Nurse would soon pursue him and bring him
back to his proper sphere; but he would have a delightful time whilst
the chase lasted, and the very difficulties that beset his
investigations made them the more exciting.

One bright spring afternoon he was turned into the kitchen garden to
play. Nurse had placed him under the charge of old Tom, for she was
busy with her machine, making some holland overalls for him, and she
was glad to have the nursery to herself. Bobby was in the seventh
heaven of delight. There was nothing he enjoyed so much as a talk with
Tom.

'And what's the first thing nice to eat that's coming out of the
ground?' he asked, his hands in his pockets and his legs well astride,
as he watched Tom sowing some seed in long drills across the square of
freshly dug ground.

Tom looked at him with a twinkle in his eye.

'Spring cabbages,' he said.

'But I mean fruit, not nasty vegtubbers! I sawed you taste a big white
ball, and then you frew it over the wall.'

''Twas a turnip, likely.'

'Let me taste a turnip.'

But Tom shook his head.

'Shall have your nurse at me a-sayin' I'm a-upsettin' your little
inside. Do you know who's a-comin' to-day?'

'No. Do tell me. Someone to the house?'

'It be Master Mortimer, the eldest