t
think how glad he must have been to come out of darkness to see so many
beautiful things! And how good and kind Jesus was!"

"Will Jesus ever come again? And could He make me well and strong like
Clement? Oh, I wish He would come!"

It was a very entreating little face that was turned towards her as he
spoke. She did not answer him at once, but kissed him, and stroked his
hair with loving hands.

"Will He ever come again?" he repeated, eagerly.

"My child, He is near us now. He does not forget little children, and
the sick and the blind and the sorrowful. And He hears us, just as He
heard the blind Bartimeus, and He cares for us and helps us all the
same, though He has gone to heaven."

"And will He make me well again?"

"I don't know. If it is best He will. And if He does not make you
well, He will make you good and patient, and willing to be sick. And
you will be happy--more happy than when you were quite strong and well.
Don't you remember how He took the little children up in His arms and
blessed them?"

"Yes; and He said, `Suffer the little children to come unto Me.'" But
the little boy looked very sad as he said it.

Mr Sherwood took another turn in the garden and approached them from
the other side. Christie was wrapping Claude in a plaid, and preparing
to wheel him round the garden--as quiet and uninteresting a person, to
all appearance, as one could fancy a child's nurse to be.

"Carry me, Cousin Charles," entreated little Claude. "It is so much
nicer than to be drawn in the carriage. Do take me for a little while."

"We'll play horses," said Clement, making his appearance at the moment,
"and I'll drive. Now, up and away!"

Christie sat down to her work again, while they carried on a merry game
up and down the cedar walk, with much shouting and laughter from all.

"And now that must do," said Mr Sherwood, seating himself on the bench
that always stood there. "Your horse is very tired, and he must rest
before he goes farther. Sit still, Claude. I am not too tired to hold
you--only too tired to run any more."

"He is very warm," said Christie, laying down her work to come and pin
the plaid more closely about him. She did it very gently, and there was
no mistaking the loving looks the little boy gave her.

"I found this book as I came out," said Mr Sherwood. "Was it you or
Miss Gertrude who was making it your study?"

"Did I leave it behind me? It was very careless," said Ch