mother laid her infant
In a manger for his bed;
Mary was that mother mild,
Jesus Christ her little child.

The old soldier left his grandchildren with Muggins and came to hear the
hymn. "The Howly Vargin bliss the little pet," he ejaculated, and then
crooned a few notes at the end of each verse.

"Fwat is it the Howly Scripchers says, sorr, about little childher an'
the good place?" he asked Coristine.

The lawyer took off his hat, and reverently replied: "Of such is the
Kingdom of Heaven."

The veteran crossed himself, and said: "There niver was a thruer word
shpoke or in wroitin', an' fwat does the childher, the innicents, know
about Pratishtants an' Cathlics, till me that now?"

As Coristine could not, the pair refilled their pipes and smoked in
company, an ideal Evangelical Alliance.

Soon the waggonette came rattling along the road, and Marjorie ran to
meet her Uncle John and the minister, with both of whom she was a great
favourite. Mr. Nash also had a word to say to her: "You remember
scolding me for not going to church when I was Mr. Chisholm? Well, I've
been there this afternoon, and Mr. Errol told us we are all getting
ready here for what we are to do in Heaven. Now, you're a wise little
girl, and I want you to tell me what I will be able to do when I get
there. It can't be to hunt up bad people, because there are no bad
people in Heaven. What do you think about it?"

"I know," answered Marjorie, gravely; "play chess with dead uncles and
ministers, and teach tricks to the little children that never growed
up."

"Out of the mouths of babes!" ejaculated Mr. Errol, who overheard the
conversation; then continued: "Could anything be truer? The training in
observation and rapid mental combinations, which has made you successful
in your profession, is the foundation of your prowess on the chess
board. Your skill in every sort of make-up enables you to manipulate
handkerchiefs and oranges for children's amusement. The same training
and skill our Father can turn to good account in the upper sanctuary."

"Thank you, Mr. Errol, thank you, Marjorie, my dear. Perhaps the good
God will be kinder than we think, and find some use for a poor, lonely,
careless detective." Mr. Nash was unusually thoughtful, yet still had an
eye to business. He made diligent enquiries about Rawdon, and, at last,
getting on the scent through Miss Du Plessis, found out all that
Coristine and Timotheus had to tell of him.