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| author | www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org> | 2026-07-29 22:08:54 -0700 |
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| committer | www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org> | 2026-07-29 22:08:54 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f57f44 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,13 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text +*.htm text +*.html text +*.png binary +*.jpg binary +*.svg text +*.pdf binary +*.bmp binary +*.zip binary +*.midi binary +*.mp3 binary diff --git a/79227-0.txt b/79227-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d511293 --- /dev/null +++ b/79227-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3919 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79227 *** + + + +Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed. + + + +[Illustration: MOLLY IN THE CHEMIST'S SHOP.] + + + + [Illustration] + + "IT'S ALL REAL TRUE." + + _The Story of a Child's Difficulties._ + + + BY + + EGLANTON THORNE + + + [Illustration] + + + LONDON: + THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY + 56, PATERNOSTER Row; 65, ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD; + AND 164 PICCADILLY. + + + + CONTENTS. + +CHAPTER. + + I. MOLLY AND KATHLEEN + + II. A SAD FAREWELL + + III. TWO LONELY GIRLS + + IV. THE THEATRE AND THE MISSION HALL + + V. MOLLY GAINS A TREASURE + + VI. DOUBT AND DISAPPOINTMENT + + VII. A STRANGE QUESTION + + VIII. MOLLY HAS A TALK WITH HER MINISTER + + IX. THE REST OF FAITH + + X. KATHLEEN IS A SOURCE OF GRAVE ANXIETY + + XI. A SISTER'S DANGER + + XII. KATHLEEN IS SAVED + + XIII. NO LONGER DESOLATE + + XIV. A WILLING SACRIFICE + + XV. MOLLY'S DIFFICULTIES COME TO AN END + + + + [Illustration] + + "IT'S ALL REAL TRUE." + + [Illustration] + +CHAPTER I. + +MOLLY AND KATHLEEN. + +NIGHT was falling on the city of London, a night of wind and +rain, following a day of clouds and gloom. The rain was sharp and +penetrating, and the wind piercingly cold. + +No one would readily choose to walk abroad on such a night. Walking, +indeed, was no easy matter, for the pavements were wet and slippery, +and on the roads the horses could with difficulty be driven over the +mud. Yet, despite the cold and wet, wherever there were shops, the +streets were filled with people, for it was Saturday evening, and many +poor folk were unable to do their marketing for the morrow until this +late hour. + +Along the Edgware Road, stalls had been placed beside the pavements, +and shrill-voiced costermongers were doing a brisk trade in more or +less tempting edibles, whilst more particular purchasers hurried to the +shops on either side the way. Into this thoroughfare, from one of the +narrower streets opening on to it, came a little girl. She walked with +rapid, certain step, and appeared in no way dismayed by the noise and +bustle around her. + +Threading her way through the crowd gathered on the pavement, she +darted on to the road, and nimbly dodging the numerous vehicles, soon +gained the other side, and entered a chemist's shop there. The shop +was small and already full of customers, so the child, being tiny and +insignificant, had to stand in a corner and wait patiently till the +chemist had leisure to attend to her. She was a strange-looking child, +so small that no one would have taken her to be nearly eleven years +old, had not her pale, thin face worn a look of care, far older than +her age. Her figure was deformed, as well as stunted, for one shoulder +rose higher than the other, and the hump below was scarcely hidden by +the shabby cloak she wore. + +The child shivered as she stood in the warm, bright shop, and tried +to shake the wet from her frock, which was of far too frail a texture +for that damp night. Then she pushed back the thick, wet locks of +reddish-brown hair that were falling over her forehead, and longing for +her turn to come, watched with shrewd glances of her dark, deep-set +eyes, the movements of the chemist, as with wonderful quickness he +supplied, one after another, the wants of his customers. + +Her patience was sorely tried. No sooner did one person leave the shop +than another entered, and it seemed impossible for her to get near +the counter. Even when she did push her way to it, she was still kept +waiting, for she was but a child, and what did it matter whether a +child were kept waiting a few minutes more or less? But at last her +turn came. + +"Well, Molly," said the chemist, sharply, but not unkindly, "what is it +you want?" + +"Some more cough-mixture for father," she answered, hastily producing a +bottle from beneath her cloak, "and, oh! 'please,' sir, will you give +me something different this time? That other stuff didn't do father no +good. His cough is worse than ever." + +"Dear, dear! That's bad," said the chemist, as he took the bottle from +the child's hand, "and it's ill weather for coughs. However, I'll see +what I can do." + +Molly watched him eagerly as he proceeded to prepare the medicine. She +wondered how he knew which drug to take from so many, but he seemed to +experience no difficulty in selecting. And in a very few minutes, the +bottle was again in the child's hand. + +"Do you think this will make father quite better?" asked Molly, as she +stood on tip-toe to place her shilling on the counter. + +"I hope so," he replied, looking compassionately at the child, for he +had not the heart to tell her that he believed her father's cough to be +beyond his power to cure. "I hope so, my dear, but not if he goes out +this weather, you know." + +"But he 'must' go out; he cannot stay at home," said Molly, +sorrowfully. "He has his work to do, and if he did not work, he would +get no money to pay the rent." + +"Dear, dear! That's bad," said the chemist again. "But try to get him +to stay in for a few days, whilst this rough weather lasts. And give +him a dose of medicine to-night and another to-morrow morning, and +we'll see what that does for him." + +In a moment Molly was out of the shop, and running across the road soon +reached her home in a narrow gloomy street, not far distant. + +Passing into the house, she climbed a steep, and not too clean, +staircase, and entered a back room on the second floor. + +It was a long, narrow room, with low ceiling and dingy walls. A slight +partition divided it at the farther end, and the space thus enclosed, +though hardly larger than a cupboard, made a little bedroom for Molly +and her sister Kathleen. + +The place was in darkness when Molly entered, save for the faint, +flickering light of the feeble fire which burned in the grate. Its +light, however, sufficed to reveal the form of a tall, thin man, with +stooping shoulders and narrow, contracted chest, who bent shivering +over the fire, vainly trying to warm himself by its fitful glow. + +"Is that you, Molly?" he asked, in a hollow voice, as the child opened +the door. + +"Yes, father, it's me," she said, "and I've got some new mixture for +you, some stuff that Mr. Turner thinks is sure to make you well." + +For thus had Molly's hope interpreted the chemist's few words. + +But her father seemed to have little faith in the power of the medicine. + +He sighed wearily, then exclaimed, in a fretful tone, "It's little good +the mixture is likely to do me, Molly, if you leave that door open, +with such a draught coming up the stairs as will give me my death of +cold." + +Molly closed the door in a moment. + +"There's no chance of my cough leaving me whilst this bitter weather +lasts," continued her father, "but when the spring comes—yes, when the +warm days begin, I may hope to get well. But it is a long while to +wait." + +"Yes, there'll be a long time first," said Molly, sadly, as standing by +the fire she tried to stir the fading embers into a blaze. + +"Put on some more coal, child!" exclaimed her father, peevishly. "I'm +almost perished with cold. You ought to have made up the fire before +you went out. And pray light a candle; I hate to sit in darkness." + +"There's very little coal left," said Molly, as, having found a piece +of candle and lighted it, she proceeded to place a few tiny knobs of +coal on the fire, touching them very tenderly in her consciousness +of their value. "I want to make it last over to-morrow. Perhaps the +manager will pay Kathleen to-night, and then we can buy some more." + +"To think I should live to depend on my darling's earnings!" sighed +her father. "Oh, dear! What will become of us? I've earned scarcely +anything this week; and next week will be worse, I fear. Molly, the +master told me to-day that he saw I was not fit for my work, and he +thought I had better keep at home till I was better. And he was right, +for indeed I could not make fair work of it to-day. I turned faint, and +was obliged to lay down my tools and rest for a while." + +"Never mind, father," said little Molly, soothingly, though the anxious +look on her face deepened; "you'll be better in a few days, I daresay, +and able to go to work again." + +Her words were interrupted by her father's violent cough. Molly watched +him fearfully as he struggled for breath. + +"You must take some of this stuff at once," she said. + +And fetching a cup from the cupboard, she poured out a dose of medicine +and held it to his lips. + +He drank it, and soon ceased to cough. "You are a good child, Molly," +he said; "you remind me of your mother, for you've got her ways +somehow, though you're not a bit like her in the face. Kathleen is +more like her. Ah! My pretty Kathleen! To think she should dance at a +theatre for the sake of earning a few shillings! But what could I do? +The child wanted to earn money, and it seemed the easiest way." + +"Don't you trouble about it, father," said Molly; "Kathleen does not +mind it; she says she likes the fun." + +"That only makes it worse," he answered, sharply; "it's not the right +sort of life for a girl to lead. But you don't understand; how should +you, you poor little thing? You don't know what a bad world it is. But +you'll find it out one day, Molly. You'll see that it's a bad, cruel +world, where no one is to be trusted, and you must fight your own way, +for there's no one to help you or care for you." + +He spoke in a tone of despair. + +Molly's sad face grew sadder as she listened. + +"I've had a hard struggle," continued James Macardie, taking a +sorrowful review of his past history; "and I've always been the most +unlucky fellow in the world. Everything has been against me—yes, +everything. I've never had any of the happy chances which fall to some +men's lot; such luck as my brother Tom had, for instance. There is he, +now making his fortune in Australia, I'll be bound, whilst I—see what +I am! No one to look at me would think that my father was a well-to-do +cabinet maker at Liverpool." + +"Does your brother Tom know how poor you are?" asked his little +daughter. + +"No, he knows nothing about me. We had words together before he went +abroad. He interfered with me in a way I could not stand, and I would +have nothing more to say to him. He wrote to me once or twice after he +reached Australia, but I took no notice of his letters. I was sorry for +it afterwards, and wrote to him several times asking him to overlook +the past, but it was of no use. My letters were never answered." + +"Perhaps he never got them," said Molly. + +"Perhaps not. I can't tell how it was, but I was sorry, for I thought +he might do something for Kathleen, if he did not care to help me +again. Poor Kathleen! Dancing at a theatre! Oh! I thought to bring her +up so differently! I meant to give her a good education and make a lady +of her. I was so proud of my pretty Kathleen, with her quick, bright +ways and roguish tricks." + +These plaintive utterances were succeeded by another fit of coughing, +and thoroughly exhausted, he was obliged to lean back in his chair and +keep silence. + +It was growing late. Molly spread a cloth on the table, and placed +thereon part of a loaf of bread, and a piece of hard, dry cheese. Then +she sat down quietly by her father's side, regarding him with sorrowful +glances, for she thought she had never seen him so ill as he seemed +to-night. She was frightened therefore when he suddenly roused from the +doze into which he had fallen, and glancing at the old Dutch clock in +the corner, got up from his chair, crossed the room with feeble steps +and took down the coat and hat which hung behind the door. + +"Oh! Father!" she exclaimed. "You will not think of going out again +this night! Indeed you are not fit." + +"You forget that Kathleen must be fetched from the theatre," he +answered, hoarsely, as with trembling hands he put on his coat. "I +would not have her come home alone through the streets for the world. +I will take care of her whilst I can, my poor Kathleen. I ought never +to have consented to her going to that place, but I will do my best to +shield her from its dangers." + +Molly said no more, for she knew it would be useless. Her face wore a +look of fear, as candle in hand she stood at the top of the stairs to +light her father, as grasping the rickety balusters for support, he +went down. + +She listened to the sound of his footsteps after he had passed out of +her sight. They seemed to grow fainter and fainter, till suddenly the +sound ceased, though she knew her father could not yet have left the +house. Molly rushed down-stairs in a moment. Below she saw her father, +overcome by sudden faintness, clinging for support to the open house +door, while the cold damp air beat upon him. + +"Father, come in," cried Molly; "you are ill, you cannot go!" + +"No, I must give it up," he murmured; "I cannot go, I have no strength. +But oh! Kathleen!" + +"Never mind about Kathleen, father," said Molly, as she helped him up +the stairs. "I will go and meet her, and tell her how ill you are." + +"You go, child! How can you take care of Kathleen? You need taking care +of yourself, you poor little thing!" + +"But, father, I'm not like Kathleen, you know. I can go out alone in +the evening, and no one takes any notice of me. I should be company for +her." + +"That's true," said her father, as he sunk weariedly into his chair; +"no one will notice a child like you. You may go, Molly. Make all the +haste you can, and tell Kathleen to come home quickly by the quietest +streets." + +Molly lingered for a few minutes, not liking to leave her father in +such a weak state. But he was impatient for her to be off, and would +not let her stay. + +So out into the cold, wet streets again went Molly. The strong wind +drove against her, and the pitiless rain drenched her light garments, +but she struggled bravely on, and soon reached the theatre where +Kathleen was to be found. No one observed the little deformed child as +she sped along through the wind and rain. + +She reached the theatre just as the people were beginning to come out. + +Elbowing her way through the crowd at the main entrance, she went to +a side door at which her father had told her to await Kathleen. She +had to stand for many minutes shivering in the cold ere any one issued +from this door. At last, however, it was opened and the players began +to come out. Some bold-looking girls appeared, who talked and laughed +loudly as they brushed past little Molly, standing in the shelter of +the doorway. Kathleen was not with these. Presently she came out alone +and stood for a moment on the steps, peering into the darkness beyond. + +"I cannot see father anywhere," she said to herself, half aloud. + +"I am here, Kathleen!" exclaimed Molly, springing forward. "Father was +so ill, he could not come, so he sent me." + +"Father ill!" said her sister. "What do you mean?" + +"His cough has been worse than ever to-day," replied Molly. "And when +he was coming to meet you, he turned so faint, he could not get along. +So I've come instead, and father said I was to tell you to come home as +quickly as possible by the quietest streets." + +"All right, let's make haste," cried Kathleen, starting off at so quick +a pace that Molly could hardly keep up with her. + +No one looking at the two as they hurried on their way would have taken +them for sisters. There was nothing attractive in Molly's thin, wizened +face, with its unchildlike look of care, but Kathleen's was a face +which could not fail to call forth admiration. + +Her eyes shone like stars beneath the bright black tresses which waved +on her brow; her cheeks were round and rosy, her lips like coral, and +her look free and careless as that of a child. She was in truth little +more than a child, being but fifteen years old, though tall for her +years, with a pretty figure and graceful bearing. She differed from +Molly in character as much as in appearance. + +Kathleen was one to take things easily. Care could not lay hold on her +as on little Molly. She would be cross and fretful when things were not +to her mind, but she had a happy knack of shaking off her annoyance in +a moment, and making the most of every bit of enjoyment which came in +her way. + +Molly knew well that she was not like Kathleen. The sense of +inferiority to her sister kept her humble, and she never dreamed of +resenting the way in which Kathleen tyrannised over her. Sometimes it +pained her to think how different they were. She knew her father did +not love her as he loved Kathleen. She was poor little Molly, ugly and +crooked; he could take no pride in her. + +Little love or care had Molly's childhood known, for her birth had +cost her mother's life, and her father had no welcome for the sickly +babe which brought such trouble to his home. Yet Molly had lived to +repay with warm love the indifference with which her father and sister +regarded her. And though she often wished she were more like Kathleen, +no envy mingled with the wish to prevent her taking a loving pride in +Kathleen's beauty. + +"Has the manager paid you, Kathleen?" inquired Molly anxiously, as they +went along. + +"Yes, he has paid me. Listen!"—And Kathleen shook her pocket that Molly +might hear the shillings rattle. "Doesn't that sound nice? What say +you—shall we buy some hot pies for supper?" + +"Father might like one, perhaps," said Molly. "He has eaten scarcely +anything to-day, and we've nothing but bread and cheese. But don't buy +one for me. There are such lots of things to buy. We want coals and +candles, and almost everything, I think." + +"I wonder when father will be able to do full work again," said +Kathleen, discontentedly; "it's rather hard that my money should have +to go for coals and candles." + +"Kathleen," asked Molly, gravely, "have you ever thought—what if father +should die?" + +Kathleen started at the unexpected question, and the colour left her +cheek for a moment, but it quickly returned as she replied in a tone of +angry remonstrance: + +"What do you mean, Molly, by saying such a thing? Father is not likely +to die; there is nothing the matter with him but a cough. I wish you +would not frighten me so." + +"I am very sorry," returned Molly, humbly. "I did not mean to frighten +you." + +"What can have put such a thought into your head, I can't imagine," +added Kathleen, still looking disturbed. + +"I don't know," said Molly, "it came to me quite suddenly, and I could +not get rid of it. But I'm glad you think it won't happen." + +"Of course not. Don't name such a thing to me again, pray." + +"No, I won't," said little Molly; and she kept her word. + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER II. + +A SAD FAREWELL. + +IT was Sunday night, some weeks later. The bells of the churches rang +clearly on the keen frosty air, and from the squares and terraces lying +near the Edgware Road numbers of well-dressed folks were hastening to +attend evening service. Not that all who trod the pavements were abroad +for so good a purpose. There were at least as many pleasure-seekers as +church-goers passing along the road. The clatter of cabs and omnibuses +was almost as great as on a week-day. Here and there a shop might be +seen open, whilst at every corner stood groups of idle lads and giddy +girls, whose empty laughter fell harshly on the ear. Wending her way +amidst the motley crowd of pleasure-seekers and church-goers, with +quick step and eager anxious face, came little Molly. + +But it was neither pleasure nor piety which had brought her forth +on this sharp winter's night. She knew little enough of either, +poor child. She had never been inside a church in her life, and her +knowledge of religion was limited to some vague notions picked up in +the days when her father had been able to send her to school. She knew +the name of God as that of a mighty Being who lived in a far-off place +called heaven. But of the Father's love for His children, and the Son +He gave to save them, she was as ignorant as any heathen child. + +Perhaps if her mother had lived, Molly would have learned to love the +Saviour. But her father had no religious faith, and his children had +grown up with scarce any knowledge of Christian truth. + +It was a sad errand on which Molly was bound this evening. She was +hurrying along to find the parish doctor, and get him to come to her +father, who to-night was so very ill that even Kathleen was alarmed. He +had not gone to work since the day when he returned home so ill. His +strength had declined rapidly from that time, and now for many days, he +had been unable to leave his bed. + +Molly gained the doctor's door only to learn that he was from home, +and would not be back for some hours. She was cast down at hearing +this. But the servant promised to tell the doctor of her father's case +as soon as he should return. And with this promise, Molly had to be +content. + +Weary and sad, the child turned her steps towards home. As she drew +near the house, she saw a crowd of persons gathered at the corner of +the street, to listen to the words of a young man who was addressing +them in clear, animated tones. Molly looked curiously at the people, +but was passing on her way, when the speaker's words reached her ear, +and so attracted her that she could not help standing still to listen. + + "Friends," she heard him say, "I have good news for you to-night. Yes, +good news for every one of you. No matter how poor and sad, how wicked +and miserable you may be, there is a Friend who loves you. He loves +you, but He does not love your sin. No; He wishes to save you from your +sin, for it is your greatest misery, and He can save you, however vile +and bad you may be, if only you will put your trust in Him. You may +have wandered far, far from all that is good and holy, you may have +gone astray like a lost sheep, but you have not got beyond the reach of +this Friend, 'for the Son of man is come to seek and to save that which +was lost.' + + "I wonder if any one of you knows what it is to be lost? Have you ever +been benighted on a dreary moorland, and wandering from the track lost +yourself on the wild waste, without a guide, without a light, all alone +in the darkness? + + "Ah! If so, you remember how glad you were when you saw the gleam of a +light, or heard the sound of a voice, or felt the grasp of a friendly +hand willing and able to guide you on your way. + + "Friends, there are many lost souls in this great city of London. What +a wilderness it is, with its numberless streets and lanes, its dark +courts and slums! What pitfalls there are to catch unwary feet; what +perils, seen and unseen, on every hand! Oh! The sin and misery which +lie around us! But in the midst of it all, the Son of man is seeking +His lost children. He is calling them to come to Him that He may make +them good and happy. Oh! Who would wander alone in such a desert, when +there is this loving Friend waiting to lead willing feet out of the +darkness and danger into the safe and happy pastures where the Good +Shepherd feeds His flock? The Son of man is come to seek and to save +that which was lost." + +Molly heard no more. She would have liked to listen longer, but she +dare not stay. "I wish I knew what it all meant," she said to herself, +as she ran home. + +Her face grew very grave when she entered the room and saw her father's +state. + +He was lying propped up in bed, with a look of bitter anguish on his +pale, wasted face, as he struggled for breath. Kathleen stood by the +bed, sobbing bitterly, and the landlady of the house, who had come to +offer assistance, was also present. + +"Is the doctor coming?" asked this woman, when she saw Molly. + +"I could not find him," said the child; "he was away from home." + +"Ah! Well, it can't make much difference," the woman observed, in an +undertone. + +Molly wondered what she could mean. + +But she did not explain her words, and having done what she could for +the sufferer, she went down-stairs again. + +Molly crept close to the bed, and took her father's hand in hers. He +slightly pressed it, then extending the other, signed to Kathleen to +come nearer. She came and stood by Molly. + +"Kiss me, my darling child," he said. + +Kathleen stooped down and kissed him. Molly too pressed forward for a +kiss, but her father scarcely heeded her caress. + +"My pretty Kathleen," he said, tenderly and sorrowfully, "my precious +child, how can I leave you? Yet I must, I must. There is no help for it +now." + +"Oh, father! Do not talk so," cried Kathleen, in a passion of tears; +"you cannot, you must not leave me." + +"There is no help for it," he repeated, mournfully; "do you think I +would not stay, if I could? How can I bear to leave you all alone? What +will become of you, with no one to take care of you? You will be lost, +you and Molly, in this wilderness of London!" + +"This wilderness of London!" Molly thought of the preacher's words in a +moment. + +Would it comfort her father to hear what she had heard? It was not easy +to speak, with such a lump rising in her throat, but she forced back +her sobs, and asked in a little, quavering voice, "Father, have you +ever heard tell of the Son of man?" + +He started at her words, and turned his eyes upon her with an eager, +wistful gaze. + +"Molly, what do you mean? Who has been speaking to you?" + +"It was a man I heard in the street," she said; "he kept saying these +words: + + "'The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.'" + +"Tell me," he said, feebly, still with that painful, yearning +look—"tell me all that he said." + +As well as she could, Molly repeated what she had heard the preacher +say. + +Her father seemed to drink in eagerly every word she uttered. And when +she stopped, he begged her to tell him more. + +Molly could only say the same again. + +"Ah! I have heard that before," said her father; "your mother used to +talk like that. She believed in religion, but I never did. I wish I +knew if it were true. But it's too late now. Oh, if only I had thought +more about these things when I was well and strong. Oh, children, +don't think to make yourselves better when you lie on a death-bed. It +is too late then, depend upon it. Your mother used to tell me that I +must repent and believe, but how can I repent now? I don't know how to +repent and believe. It's too late—too late!" + +He ended with a groan, and quite exhausted with the effort he had made +to utter these words, said no more. + +It was piteous to see his mournful look, but what could little Molly in +her ignorance say to comfort him? Nothing. All she could do was to show +her loving sympathy by keeping close to his side, and tenderly stroking +his wasted hand. + +For a long time there was silence in the room, broken only by the sound +of the sufferer's labouring breath. Kathleen crouched sobbing on the +hearth-rug, whilst Molly sat beside the bed holding her father's cold, +clammy hand in hers. The evening wore on, but the doctor did not come. +Gradually the noises in the house ceased, as one after another the +lodgers retired to rest. + +Kathleen had sobbed herself to sleep, and Molly was growing drowsy, +when she felt her father's hand move in hers. Wide awake in a moment, +she turned towards him. He was leaning forward, and looking at her with +such a strange, piteous look. He tried to speak, but his voice had +grown so faint that she had to put her ear close to his lips in order +to catch the words. + +"Molly," he whispered, "promise me you will always take care of +Kathleen. You are younger than she, but you are wiser than your age. +She is not like you. You must watch over her. Promise me." + +"I will, father. I will indeed," said Molly, tremulously, "but oh, +father, why do you say this?" + +He did not reply, and there was silence again. + +Molly was trembling with fear, but her father's hand lay in hers, and +she could not move to rouse Kathleen. After a few moments, he once more +strove to speak, but she could with difficulty make out his meaning. + +"Say it again," he seemed to say, and then she caught the words—"about +the Son of man." + +"You want me to tell you what I heard the man say?" asked Molly. + +He gave a feeble sign of assent, and slowly and distinctly Molly +repeated the words— + + "'The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.'" + +Again his lips moved, and Molly, bending down, heard him murmur, "I'm +lost—lost! Oh, if only—" + +The voice died away in inarticulate mutterings. But after a time, she +fancied she heard him whisper—"to seek and to save—to seek and to save." + +He said no more, and the hand that she held seemed to grow cold and +heavy in her grasp. Little Molly gently rubbed it between her own +hands, then held it to her bosom, vainly trying to warm it, for it +remained cold as ever. Her father's breathing grew more slow and +irregular. But the child knew not what it meant, till at last there +came a long, deep sigh, followed by utter silence. + +Molly's own heart seemed to stand still in that sudden hush. For a few +moments, no sound broke the stillness. Then some cinders fell with a +clatter from the fire to the hearth, and Kathleen started and awoke. + +"Oh, Molly, how is father?" she cried, as she rubbed her eyes and +looked towards the bed. "Is he asleep?" + +Yes, truly he was asleep; but it was the sleep of Death. + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER III. + +TWO LONELY GIRLS. + +ERE many days had passed, James Macardie was laid to rest in an obscure +corner of a crowded cemetery. His was a rough, parish funeral, and no +one, save his two children, mourned at his grave. + +Their hearts were very heavy as they turned away from the dreary spot, +feeling utterly alone in the world. + +"We have only each other now, Kathleen," whispered Molly, clinging +close to her sister's side. + +But Kathleen made no reply, and seemed hardly aware that her sister +spoke. The poor girl's grief was wild and passionate. She had sobbed +till she could sob no more, and her eyelids were so red and swollen +that she looked quite unlike the pretty Kathleen in whom her father had +taken such pride. + +Molly wept more quietly, but perhaps her sorrow was even greater than +her sister's. Certainly it pressed upon her heart long after Kathleen, +in the excitement of her engagements at the theatre, had shaken off all +signs of grief. And yet the father whom she mourned had never shown +much affection for little Molly. + +To neither of his children had he been a very good parent, for his +indulgence of Kathleen had been as unwise as his utter neglect of +little Molly. His had been a sinful, wasted life, for though he had +ever considered himself an ill-used man, the truth was that his own +foolish, thriftless habits had been the cause of all the want and +distress which had troubled his last days. He had come to see this when +health and strength were gone, and it was too late to do better. He +felt then it was his own fault that his death would leave his children +in such poverty. + +Remorse was keen when he reflected that his darling Kathleen, the +lovely child of whom he had been so proud, would be left without a +friend to guard her from the perils which must surround her girlhood. +Fears for Kathleen's future had distressed him as he felt his end +approaching, and the promise he had gained from little Molly had but +slightly calmed his dread. + +The two children were indeed in a most desolate position. They had +but just returned from seeing their father laid in his grave when +the mistress of the house in which they lived came to tell them that +she should soon want to let their room to another lodger, so they +had better lose no time in getting ready to move. She reminded them +that they owed her several weeks' rent, and glancing around the room +obligingly named the articles of furniture she was willing to accept +instead of money. + +Molly and Kathleen looked at each other in dismay. Where could they +find another home if they were turned out of this shelter? + +"You cannot expect us to leave at once," exclaimed Kathleen, +indignantly. "You will give us time to find another place, I suppose?" + +"Oh! Kathleen, where can we go?" cried Molly. "Shall we have to go +to a horrid place like Ivy Court, where the women are always drunk +and quarrelling? Oh, dear! I wish we could stay here." And she looked +wistfully round the familiar room. + +"I don't want to be hard on you," said the woman, "but it's not likely +I could let you have one of the best rooms in the house for the small +sum you would pay. However, there's a little room higher up which I can +let to you for a trifle." + +And to this room the girls agreed to remove on the following day, +though they were far from pleased with the look of their new home. + +It was a bare, little garret, draughty and cold, with no window save a +skylight. It had been empty for a long time, and dust lay thick on the +floor. The window was darkened with dirt, and innumerable cobwebs hung +from the ceiling. + +Molly's heart sunk within her at the first sight of the room, whilst +Kathleen burst into tears, and declared passionately that she would +rather die than live in such a hole. + +"Never mind, Kathleen," said Molly, bravely; "the room is dirty now, +but it can be made clean. You go to rehearsal as usual, and I'll ask +Mrs. Jones to lend me a broom, and see if I can't make the place look a +little tidier by the time you come back." + +"You, Molly! As if you could clean the room!" cried Kathleen. "It's a +strong woman's work to make this place decent. Mrs. Jones ought to do +it for us, but I suppose it's no use asking her. She's a horrid woman, +and I hate her." + +"There's a many worse than she," observed Molly. + +"Then I hope I may never know them," said Kathleen. "However, I must +be off to the theatre, or there'll be no money for us. Isn't it a good +thing, Molly, that poor father let me try the dancing? You know he +couldn't bear the thought of it, when Miss Evans, the actress, first +named it to him. But what would become of us now if I had not this way +of earning money?" + +"I s'pose there are other ways," said Molly; "you might have got a +place as servant somewhere." + +"Servant, indeed!" returned Kathleen, with a proud toss of the head. "I +think I see myself drudging as a maid-of-all-work. No; I would rather +starve than do that! But I really must go, so good-bye. I wish you joy +of your sweeping." + +Left to herself, Molly could no longer keep back her tears. There was a +sore, hopeless feeling at the child's heart. + +"Oh, father, father!" she sobbed, as she stood in the middle of the +cold, dismal room. "I want you so badly. How can we get on with no one +to take care of us, not a single friend to help us?" + +Then Molly remembered the words of the street-preacher. "I wish I +knew who that great, kind Friend is who loves every one," she said to +herself. "Somehow I don't believe He's a real person. If He were, I'd +try to find out where He lives, and I'd go and ask Him to take care of +Kathleen and me. I told father I would take care of Kathleen, but I'm +such a poor little thing, I can't do much for her. However, I'll try +if I can't make this place look a little better by the time she comes +home." + +And drying her tears, Molly set to work without loss of time. + +Borrowing a broom of Mrs. Jones, she began to sweep, and soon raised a +cloud of dust, which almost choked her. + +Fortunately, Mrs. Jones came to the rescue, and showed her how to go to +work, and how to scrub the floor when it was swept. + +It was hard work for one so small, but Molly kept at it bravely, though +her head and back ached, and the tears would fall as she worked. She +was bent upon making the room look homelike by the time Kathleen +returned. + +She would scarcely have succeeded in doing so, however, had she not +received unexpected help. She was toiling up the steep staircase about +noon, carrying a pail of water almost as big as herself, when a cheery +voice from behind cried— + +"Here, little 'un, give me that. I reckon I can get it upstairs quicker +than you." + +And ere she could recover from her surprise, the pail was caught out of +her hand, and carried to the top of the house in less than no time. It +was Ned Jones, the landlady's son, who did her this good turn. He was +a big, stout lad, fast growing into a man, and with a true man's heart +beating beneath his fustian jacket. + +Molly had often seen him as she went in and out of the house, but she +had never spoken to him until this day. + +"Oh, thank you!" she cried, as she came up breathless. "That's a nice +help." + +"So you're moving in here," he said, looking into the room; "you're a +little bit of a thing to do such work as this. Is there anything I can +do? Ah! Yes. I see that window wants a polish, and you can't possibly +reach up to do it. Give me a cloth, and I'll give it a rub." + +And he rubbed away with hearty good-will, and soon effected a great +improvement in the appearance of the glass. + +Then he helped Molly to carry up the bedstead from the room below, and +such pieces of furniture as were too heavy for the child to lift alone. +It was soon done, for there were not many things to move. + +"Upon my word, the little room looks quite cosy now," Ned said, as he +went away. "And I can tell you not many of the lodgers' rooms look so +clean as you have made this look. You're a rare smart little girl, +Molly." + +"Who'd have thought he'd have been so kind?" said Molly, when he had +gone. "I did not think there was any one so nice in the house. Really, +he seems quite like a friend now." + + +Kathleen, on her return, was much surprised to see the change in the +room. + +"You 'are' a good little thing, Molly," she said. "However did you +manage it?" + +Then Molly told the story of her morning's work, and the help Ned had +given her. + +"I'm very glad you got it all done before I came back," said Kathleen, +"for I am dreadfully tired and hungry. Is there nothing but dry bread +for dinner?" + +"I've got a little bit of butter for you," said Molly; "it's all there +is left, and there's no money for any more. No! Don't give me any!" she +cried, as her sister offered to halve it. "I would just as soon eat the +bread without." + +And she turned her eyes away from the butter, and cheerfully munched +her dry crust. + +"You do love me a little, don't you, Kathleen?" she asked presently, +laying her hand softly on her sister's arm. + +"Oh yes, Molly, of course," responded Kathleen, with some impatience, +as she shook off her sister's hand; "you're my sister, you know, though +no one would think so to look at us. We're not a bit alike." + +"Oh no! We're not a bit alike!" echoed Molly, with a sigh. "Father +often used to tell me so. Poor father! He was 'very' fond of you, +Kathleen." + +"Yes, he was," replied Kathleen, tears coming into her beautiful dark +eyes. "Poor father! How shall we get on without him?" + +"I wonder if father's brother Tom will ever come back to England," said +little Molly; "if he did, he might take care of us." + +"If he could find us," returned Kathleen; "you forget that father had +heard nothing of him for years. Uncle Tom may be dead, for aught we +know. But if he is alive, and ever comes back to this country, he won't +know where to look for us, for we have moved from one place to another +since father wrote to him. He would not think of looking for us in this +wretched little street." + +"No more he would," said Molly; "I did not think of that. Father said +that he was making his fortune in Australia, so he would be quite a +rich man, I suppose." + +"Then I wish he would come back and somehow manage to find us," +remarked Kathleen. "Oh, how nice it would be to be rich!" + +"Do you remember mother, Kathleen?" Molly asked, after they had been +silent a few minutes. + +"How often you ask me that question!" returned Kathleen. "I've told you +ever so many times that I have just a faint recollection of sitting +on her lap when I was a little girl. I don't know whether I really +remember it, or whether father told it to me." + +"And she used to brush your hair, and curl it round her finger, and +kiss you, and call you 'little Kathie?'" said Molly. + +"Yes—there, you see, you know it already, so you need not have asked +me." + +"Do you think mother would ever have done so to me if she had lived?" +asked little Molly, with tears in her eyes. + +"Oh yes, I daresay," answered Kathleen carelessly; "only you know your +hair would never curl like mine." + +"No; and besides I am so ugly, and my back is all crooked," sighed +Molly. "No, she could never have loved me as she loved you." + +Apparently Kathleen was of the same opinion, for she did not attempt to +deny the statement. Having finished her dinner, she sprang up from her +chair and began to practise some dancing steps on the newly-scrubbed +floor, humming a lively air the while. The action jarred on Molly's +sorrowful mood. She wondered that Kathleen could dance and hum so gaily +on the day following that on which their father had been buried. + + +In the evening, when Kathleen got ready to go to the theatre, Molly +also put on her hat and cloak. During her father's illness she had +always walked with her sister to the theatre, and gone later to fetch +her home, and she meant to do so still. + +But Kathleen raised an objection. "There's no need for you to come, +Molly," she exclaimed. "I am best alone. It's absurd for a little thing +like you to come out at night to keep me company." + +"But father wished me to go," said Molly, "and I promised him I would +always take care of you." + +"'You' take care of 'me!'" cried Kathleen, scornfully. "What a +ridiculous ideal! You forget I'm some years older than you. It's my +place to take care of 'you,' I rather think." + +"I must go, Kathleen; I promised father," persisted Molly. + +"Father never meant that you were to go always," declared Kathleen; +"and I don't mean to let you. It's not right for a little thing like +you to be out alone in the streets by night. There's no knowing what +might happen." + +"No one will take any notice of me," urged Molly; "it's quite safe. I'm +not like you, Kathleen." + +In spite of her strong wish to the contrary, Kathleen was forced to +give in, and let Molly have her way. Every evening the little girl +walked beside her sister to the theatre, then returned home to spend +some dreary hours in darkness and solitude, till the time came for +her to go back for Kathleen. Then she made her way rapidly along the +quietest streets to the theatre, and waited in some shadowed corner +till her sister appeared. Seldom did any one notice the child as she +slid along through the darkness or stood beneath a doorway, and such as +chanced to glance at her saw something in the look of the weird, wan +face and sad dark eyes, which deterred them from offering her annoyance. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE THEATRE AND THE MISSION HALL. + +MOLLY was right in thinking that Ned Jones would prove a friend. He +was a strong, brave lad, having that tenderness for weaker creatures +which is a mark of true manhood. The courage with which little Molly +faced the trials of her lot and her devotion to her sister excited his +admiration, and made him desirous of befriending her. He had a pleasant +word for the little girl whenever they chanced to meet, and Molly was +very grateful for his kindness, for it was a rare thing for any one to +smile upon her. + +One evening, happening to overtake Molly on her return from escorting +Kathleen to the theatre, Ned thought he would like to give her a treat. + +"I suppose you've often been to the theatre, Molly?" he said. + +"I've never been inside it, if that's what you mean," was her reply. + +"What, have you never seen your sister perform? I should have thought +you would have gone to see her!" + +"No, but I've often longed to go," said Molly; "for though Kathleen's +told me about it lots of times, I would far rather see for myself what +it's like. Father used to go to the theatre now and then, but he always +said he could not take me." + +"I tell you what, Molly," exclaimed Ned; "I'll take you there to-night, +and you shall see for yourself just what it's like." + +"You don't mean it!" cried Molly, her eyes sparkling with delight. +"You're only making game of me." + +"No, indeed, I mean it," Ned assured her. "I'm flush of money just now, +and can stand you a treat. So come along, little 'un: there's no time +to lose, if we would get seats." And seizing her hand, he hurried her +along at a smart pace. + +"Oh, how surprised Kathleen will be when she hears I've been there!" +cried Molly, breathlessly, as they went along. "Now I shall see her in +the beautiful dress she was trying to tell me about." + +When they reached the theatre, they found a crowd gathered outside. And +as soon as the doors were opened, there was such a rush for the gallery +stairs that Molly might have been injured if Ned had not been there to +take care of her. + +But his strong arm shielded her from the rough jostling. And when she +was safe up the narrow staircase, and seated in one of the front seats +of the gallery, her delight was unbounded. She gazed admiringly round +the large gaily-lit place. The lavish display of paint and tinsel, the +gorgeous curtain, the lively music, fairly enchanted her. + +The atmosphere of the crowded gallery was hot and stifling, and +redolent of beer and tobacco, but the child was not aware of it. She +was too absorbed in seeing and hearing to pay heed to aught beside. + +Ned directed her eyes to the well-dressed people who were entering the +stalls or taking possession of the boxes. Amongst them were little +girls of her own age, but oh! they looked so different from poor +little Molly. The child gazing down on them from the distant height +of the gallery wondered what it could feel like to wear such warm +bright cloaks and pretty dresses. It made her sad in the midst of her +enjoyment to look at these happy children, with their soft bright hair +and joyous faces, and to think of the vast difference between their +life and hers. + +But this sadness vanished as at length, midst shouts and clapping, the +curtain slowly rose and revealed the glories beyond. + +Molly forgot everything else as she watched the wonders of the play. +She could not understand what it all meant, but she was charmed with +the changing scenery and the brilliant dresses of the players. And when +presently there appeared on the stage a young gipsy-girl, fancifully +dressed, with a crimson kerchief twisted amidst her black locks, and +bracelets gleaming on her bare arms as she flourished a tambourine and +danced and sung, Molly failed to recognize her sister, till a whisper +from Ned told her who it was. Then she watched Kathleen's performance +with breathless interest. + +At first she was pleased to hear the people clap and applaud. But +as the loudly-whispered remarks passing around reached her ear, +she blushed and wished it were not her sister upon whom they were +commenting so freely. + +What right had they to couple such epithets with Kathleen's name, and +to speak as if she belonged to them? Molly resented their freedom +of speech, and it marred her enjoyment of the remainder of the +entertainment. + +She was not sorry when it came to an end, and the people began to +disperse. + +She hurried with Ned to the side door, where, after waiting awhile, +they were joined by Kathleen. + +Kathleen was much surprised to learn that her little sister had been +seeing the play, but she did not show such pleasure as Molly had +expected. + +"There, there, don't talk any more about it," she cried, cutting short +Molly's eager words. "I'm so tired of the noise and glare. Oh! Yes, +you think it very fine, I daresay, but if you'd seen as much of that +theatre as I have, you'd be sick to death of it." + +"But oh! Kathleen, you looked so lovely when you came in and danced. I +did not know you at first," said Molly. + +"That's a doubtful compliment," returned Kathleen, who, however, was +not ill-pleased with it. + +"But, Kathleen, I did not like to hear the people shout and clap and +say such things about you." + +"What did they say?" asked her sister, eagerly. + +Then Molly repeated some of the comments which had reached her ears. +But the coarse admiration which she had resented was not distasteful +to Kathleen. She laughed, and said she was glad that she had pleased +the folks in the gallery, for they had sometimes a very objectionable +way of showing their disapproval of an actress. Her weariness seemed to +vanish, and she chatted merrily all the way home. + +But her mood changed when they had bidden Ned "good-night," and gained +their attic. + +"What a dreary place it is!" she said, as she entered the little room. +"No fire, no comfort of any kind. I wonder if any one seeing me dancing +and singing at the theatre could imagine that I live in such a hole as +this, and that I have not a friend in the world?" + +Kathleen's words made Molly very unhappy. She said nothing in +reply, for she knew it would be of no use to remind Kathleen of her +love—that was of small value. She wished she knew the Friend of whom +the street-preacher had spoken, that she might ask Him to be good to +Kathleen. Long after Kathleen had forgotten her annoyance in sound +slumber, Molly lay sleepless by her side, pondering what means she +could take to discover who this mighty Friend was, and how she might +get near Him and speak to Him. + +At last, she resolved that on the following Sunday evening, she would +go into the streets and look about for the preacher, in the hope of +hearing him again, and learning from his words more about the Son of +man. + + +But she had not to wait till Sunday to hear about the Son of man. On +the following evening, as she was coming alone from the theatre, she +turned into a different street from the one she usually took, and found +herself close to a new-looking building, about which a crowd of persons +had gathered. + +Curious to see what was going on, Molly quickly crossed the road, and +made her way into the midst of the crowd. + +The door of the building stood open, and revealed a long room, +furnished with deal benches and brightly lighted by gas. + +Coloured pictures could be seen hanging on the whitewashed walls, and +gay banners waved over the door, giving the place a bright, cheerful +look. A policeman stood on the pavement, keeping order amongst the +crowd, and seeing that they stood back, so as to leave space for any +who wished to pass into the room. + +But at first very few ventured in, though many of the rough lads and +slatternly girls whom curiosity had brought to the spot peeped in at +the door. + +"What's going on in that room?" Molly asked of a woman who stood near +her. + +"Why, bless you, that's the new mission hall!" was the response. "It's +opened to-night for the first time, and there's a grand parson coming +to preach." + +"Who's he going to preach to?" asked Molly, wonderingly. + +"Who to? Why, the people, of course: any who like to go and hear him." + +"Do you mean that any one can go in? May I go?" inquired the child, +with eagerness. + +"Yes, of course, if you've a mind to. Don't know but what I shall go in +myself, just to see what it's like, you know." + +Molly's mind was quickly made up. The brightly lit room with such +pretty pictures on the walls was far more attractive than the dark +attic to which she was returning. + +She walked to the door, and after a moment's hesitation stepped inside. + +There were two or three ladies standing at the top of the room, and one +of these ladies came to meet the child, and took her to a seat, and +gave her a hymn-book. Molly sat down and took a good look around her. +She was delighted with the pictures. + +There was one hanging on the wall facing her, from which she could +hardly take off her eyes. It represented a shepherd descending the +slope of a mountain, with a little lamb clasped in his arms. The path +along which he came was steep and rugged, and the hills lying behind +him were dark with storm-clouds; but the shepherd had sought and found +the little wanderer, and was carrying it safely to the fold. Tender and +sweet was the look on His face, as He sheltered the weary lamb in His +strong arms. There was love and pity in His glance, but no reproach nor +blame. Beneath the picture were these words printed,— + + "The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost." + +"Ah," said Molly to herself as she read the words, "those are the +very words I heard the man say in the street, and which I repeated to +father. Then that must be a picture of the Son of man. I'm so glad to +see it, for now I know what He is like. How good and kind He looks! I'm +sure I should not be afraid to speak to Him, and ask Him to take care +of me and Kathleen." + +Here Molly's thoughts were diverted by the voice of the minister, who +began the service by giving out a hymn. Molly looked at him earnestly. +She liked the gentle, loving look, which his countenance wore, and the +tones of his voice sounded pleasantly in her ears. She looked away from +him to the picture, and then again at him, and fancied his face showed +a marked resemblance to that of the Shepherd. + +Could it be that He was the Son of man? + +For a few minutes, Molly's heart beat fast with the hope that it was +so. But as the service went on, there dawned on her mind a true idea of +who the Son of man was. + +At first, there was but a small congregation in the hall. But the sound +of the singing attracted the loiterers outside, and one after another +entered, so that by the time the minister began his address, the hall +was quite full. + +He took for his text the words,— + + "We love Him because He first loved us." + +In clear, ringing tones he began to speak, and soon there was perfect +silence in the hall, as simply yet forcibly, he told the old, old +story of the Saviour's love. Step by step, he traced the course of the +wondrous life that began in the cradle at Bethlehem, and ended on the +cross at Calvary. Then he showed how that which seemed to be an ending +was in truth but a beginning, for death had no power over the Son of +God. He had loosed the bands of the grave and risen victorious over +death, and still lived to save and to bless, now as in the days of old, +the Saviour, Friend, and Brother of mankind. + +As the preacher thus spoke, many hearts were thrilled by his words. + +Some there were before him who had heard the truth in early life, +learned it, may be, at the knee of a mother, who had long since passed +from earth. And now, as the memories of childhood revived, they +wept for the sin which had stained their lives since those days of +innocence. Some, like little Molly, were getting their first distinct +impression of the Gospel, and the tidings of such a Saviour and Friend +fell on their ears with strange sweetness. + +The preacher's concluding words Molly could never forget: they seemed +so suited to her own case. + + "Perhaps there is some one here to-night," he said, "who is sad and +lonely, some one who feels that he has no one to love him—no, not a +single human friend on whom to lean for comfort and help. + + "Surely that one will be glad to hear of the Divine Friend who loved +us so much that He gave His life for us. 'Greater love hath no man +than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.' Yet was the +Saviour's love greater, for whilst we were yet sinners—enemies—Christ +died for us. + + "Oh! Lonely one, whoever you are, come to this Friend. Do not be afraid +to come, however poor, or miserable, or sinful you may be. Jesus Christ +knows all about your sin and misery; yet He loves you in spite of all. +He knows the circumstances of your life; yes, every little detail: +nothing is hidden from His eyes, and He has help and healing for you. +He will bestow pardon, peace, and purity on all who trust Him. Come, +then, without fear. Bring to Him your sins, your sorrows, your daily +cares and anxieties. Speak to Him freely: He will hear you, for though +you see Him not, He is ever near you, ever waiting to listen to your +prayer. + + "Oh! Can you hold back, can you distrust His love after the mighty +proof of its reality He has given? Will you not love Him who first +loved you? Why should you live a lonely, friendless life, when there is +such a Friend waiting to help you, waiting to take you by the hand, and +lead you safely through the snares and dangers of this world, and to +bring you at last to His presence in the better, world beyond?" + +This was glad news for little Molly. With a child's simple confidence, +she received the truth, and the thought of having such a Friend ever +near to aid and bless filled her heart with joy. She need nevermore +feel sad because no one loved her. Poor, ugly, deformed little creature +that she was, she had a Friend in the Son of man who had died for her. + +"To think He's been loving me all this while, and I never knew it," she +said to herself as she stood up and in her shrill little voice joined +in singing the hymn, "'Tell me the old, old story.'" + +As soon as the service was over, Molly slipped out of the hall, and ran +home, to think over in solitude the wonderful news she had heard. + +The dark attic was not now a dreary place. The unseen Friend was there, +and she no longer felt lonely. She spoke to Him in simple childish +words. + + "Oh! Good Son of man," she said, "I'm a poor little girl, and I've no +one but Kathleen, and father said I was to take care of her, but I +can't do it properly, 'cause I'm not big enough. Oh! Please, Lord, be +our Friend, and take care of us, and teach us to love Thee!" + +Many times did she repeat such words as these; and as she prayed, her +heart grew light and happy. She felt so sure that the Lord Jesus would +be her Friend, and take care of her and Kathleen. + +"Oh! How I wish father had known about the Son of man," she thought; +"for then he would not have been afraid to leave Kathleen alone. He +would not have asked me to take care of her, if he had known that the +Lord Jesus would be our Friend." + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER V. + +MOLLY GAINS A TREASURE. + +IF Kathleen had looked closely at her sister, when she found her that +night waiting as usual at the door of the theatre, she would have +noticed that her face wore a singularly happy expression. But Kathleen +was not wont to pay heed to Molly's looks. She was too much taken up +with herself to care for her sister. + +"Molly is a good little creature in her way," Kathleen thought. But she +was so very different from herself that she believed she was justified +in treating her with some contempt. + +Kathleen was less likely than usual to notice Molly's looks this night, +since she was not alone when she came out of the theatre. She half +hoped that for once she might not find Molly awaiting her, for she was +ashamed that her companion should see her little sister. + +As her eye fell upon the tiny hunched-up figure standing by the +doorway, she actually felt cross with Molly for her deformity. + +"So you are here again, Molly," she cried; "you must be more fond of +the cold than I am to like to stand about on such a night as this." + +Molly had certainly not enjoyed lingering in that bitter atmosphere. + +The light mantle she wore was of far thinner texture than the shawl +in which Kathleen was closely wrapped, and her garments were all more +threadbare than those of her sister. Her father had bought clothes for +Kathleen as often as she required them, and he could spare the money, +but he had rarely thought it necessary to make any addition to Molly's +scanty habiliments. And now he was gone, and Kathleen's money had to +meet every need, there was small chance of Molly's getting any new +clothing. + +Kathleen's remark was therefore an unfeeling one to make to her sister +as she stood trembling with cold in the keen night air. + +But Molly forgot her words almost as soon as they were uttered. She was +gazing in surprise at the stranger who had hold of Kathleen's arm. He +was a tall, dark man, several years older than Kathleen. His features +would have been handsome, were it not for the bold, bad look stamped +upon them. He was well, though flashily dressed, wearing his hat +jauntily poised at the side of his head, and flourishing a cane in his +hand. + +At the first glance, Molly distrusted and feared this man, and his +words were not calculated to produce a more favourable impression. + +"So this is the little sister you were talking about," he said, looking +quizzingly at Molly. "Why, what a queer little object she is! She's not +a bit like you." + +"Oh no," said Kathleen, "we're not at all alike. She always will come +to walk home with me. It is very silly of her, a little puny thing, to +fancy that she can protect me." + +The man laughed loudly at the novel idea, and then Molly heard him say, +in an undertone, "Tell her not to come again. I'll walk home with you +in future." + +"It's no good telling her," Kathleen replied; "she won't keep away for +my telling. Now come on, Molly; don't stand staring like that!" + +Again the man laughed, and then whispered something that Molly could +not catch. The child felt very uncomfortable as she walked home, +keeping as close to her sister as she could. The strange man went all +the way with them, and talked fast to Kathleen, though in tones too low +for Molly to hear what was said. + +Kathleen laughed and blushed, and seemed very excited. Molly thought +she had never seen her sister look more lovely—there was such a +beautiful colour in her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled so. But to-night +Molly could take no pleasure in her sister's beauty. + +Somehow, she could have wished Kathleen were not so pretty, when she +saw how the stranger looked at her. + +"Who is that man, Kathleen?" she asked, when they reached home, and at +last, after a prolonged farewell, he had left them at the door. + +"He is Mr. Vavasour, one of the actors at the theatre," replied her +sister. "I like him so much; he's so kind to me! He says I'm one of the +best dancers he has ever seen, and he thinks that if I study and take +pains, I shall be a grand actress some day." + +"He's a horrid-looking man!" said Molly, decidedly. + +"Horrid-looking, you little silly?" returned Kathleen. "Why, he's very +handsome, and quite a gentleman, I can tell you. They think a deal of +him at the theatre, and his acting's splendid. I feel proud that he has +promised to be my friend." + +"I don't call him a gentleman," said Molly, mentally contrasting his +appearance with that of the minister she had heard preach that night. +"And I can tell you of a far better friend than he is likely to be." + +"Don't talk like a simpleton!" retorted Kathleen. "What can you know +about gentlemen, I wonder?" + +Upon that, Molly began to tell her evening's experiences. But she had +not said much about the meeting ere Kathleen impatiently interrupted +her. + +"There, that will do, Molly! I don't want to hear any more about the +preaching. I've heard that sort of thing before now!" + +"But, Kathleen, I want to tell you about the Lord Jesus, who will be +our Friend," urged Molly. + +"I don't want to hear!" retorted Kathleen. "I know already! I heard +something about it years ago, when I once went to Sunday-school." + +"Oh! Kathleen!" exclaimed Molly, reproachfully. "Do you mean to say +you've known about the Lord Jesus all this while, and never told me?" + +"I did not know you would care to hear," said Kathleen. "However, +there's a book of mother's somewhere, in which you can read it all for +yourself." + +"Oh! Where?" cried Molly, eagerly. "Do show it me. I should so like to +read it." + +"I can't find it now," said her sister; "I'm tired, and want to go to +bed, so stop talking, Molly, and get me some supper." + +Molly did as she was bid. She was disappointed at the manner in which +Kathleen had received her account of the meeting at the mission hall, +and greatly surprised to find that the glad tidings she had received +with joy were already known to her sister. + +"Kathleen," she ventured to whisper, when they were lying down together +in the darkness, "haven't you loved the Lord Jesus ever since you knew +that He died for us?" + +But Kathleen made no reply, and Molly wondered to think how quickly she +had fallen asleep. + + +The next morning, when the two children had finished their breakfast of +dry bread and weak coffee, and Molly had washed the cups and plates and +tidied the room, she said to her sister, "Kathleen, will you find me +the book you spoke of last night?" + +"What book?" asked Kathleen. + +"Oh, you know, that book of mother's that tells about the Lord Jesus." + +"Oh! I can't find it now," returned Kathleen. "I must finish learning +my new part before I go to rehearsal." + +"Where is it?" asked Molly. "Can't I find it for myself?" + +"Oh dear, Molly, what a tiresome little thing you are! As if you could +not wait a while." + +"I don't want to be troublesome," said Molly, humbly, "but I thought I +should like to read whilst you were gone." + +"Well, I think it's in that box under the bed," said Kathleen. "You can +look for it if you like; only be careful how you turn over the things." + +In a moment, Molly dived under the bed and dragged out the box. Its +lock was gone, and it was kept closed by means of a cord tied tightly +round it. Very quickly the little fingers unfastened the knot and threw +back the lid. + +The box contained nothing of value, only a few relics of the life of +past years. + +At the top lay the clothes her father had worn, the old greatcoat and +shabby hat which he had put on for the last time on the evening when he +made a vain attempt to go to the theatre to fetch Kathleen home. Tears +came to Molly's eyes as she lifted the garments tenderly and laid them +on one side. Below were things which had belonged to her mother—an old +straw bonnet, a torn apron, a pair of well-worn slippers, some tiny +frocks which Kathleen had once worn and then handed on to her sister, +pretty little frocks bearing witness to the love and industry of the +mother who had made them for her darling. And underneath them Molly +found the baby clothes which she herself had worn, also the work of her +mother's clever fingers. + +"Mother made this for me," the child said to herself as she held up a +tiny garment. "Ah! If she had lived, I should not have been like this." + +And she glanced with disgust at the ragged frock which she had not +skill to mend, and the holes which appeared in her boots. + +Then with a sigh, she continued her search. There were some packets of +letters and several broken-backed novels lying at the bottom of the +trunk, and amongst them Molly found a small brown book, which a glance +at the title-page told her was the one she sought. + +Eager to begin reading, she replaced the things in the box as speedily +as possible, and pushing it out of sight sat down to enjoy her book. + +She opened it at the first page, but she could make nothing of the hard +names which there met her eyes. Turning over a few leaves, however, +she came to what she could understand, and read of some of Christ's +miracles of healing. Great was her wonder and delight as she read. Once +or twice she asked Kathleen to tell her a word, or explain something +she could not understand. + +But Kathleen sat at a distance, with her fingers in her ears, intently +studying the play-book which lay on her knee, and would not listen to a +word her sister had to say. + +So Molly had to make out the meaning for herself, and skipping the hard +passages, read only the simple narratives which she could not fail to +understand. + +She felt that she had found a treasure in finding that little book. +After this, she used to study the Testament during her solitary hours, +whilst Kathleen was absent at the theatre. She loved to read of the +Saviour's miracles of love and mercy, and the page grew wet with her +tears as she read of the anguish in the garden, the shameful mocking +and scourging, the traitorous friend, and the death on the Cross. + +It was all real to little Molly. She pictured the Saviour, looking +gentle and loving, like the Shepherd in the picture at the mission +hall, as He went amongst the poor and suffering to heal and to save. +She wished she could have been one of the children upon whom His hand +had been laid in blessing. Then she reminded herself that this same +Jesus still lived, and that He loved her and Kathleen. + +Many a question puzzled her sharp little mind, and she longed for some +one to explain the book to her; but this truth she believed—Jesus lived +and Jesus loved her. Every day she asked the unseen Friend to take care +of her and her sister, and she believed that He heard her, and would +watch over them. + + +But ere many days had gone, a cloud passed over little Molly's faith. +At first it was a very small cloud raised by some words from Kathleen. + +On Sunday evening Molly asked her sister if she would go with her to +the service at the mission hall. Kathleen was not much inclined to go, +but when Molly tried to persuade her, she consented, saying that though +she did not suppose it would be very lively, it might be better than +moping at home. + +Molly was not a little pleased to gain Kathleen's company, and started +for the mission hall with a glad heart. + +But disappointment awaited her there. + +Kathleen, accustomed to the gaudiness and glitter of the theatre, +did not think much of the pictures which Molly admired so greatly. +She scarcely cared to glance at the picture of the Shepherd with the +found lamb, and was by no means charmed with the singing, as Molly had +expected she would be. To Molly's regret, the preacher was not the +one to whom she had before listened. He was a younger man, and his +countenance, though not ill-looking, bore little resemblance to that of +the Shepherd in the picture. Molly felt very disappointed at not seeing +the minister whom she liked so much, and the words of this preacher did +not interest her as the other's had done. She saw that Kathleen paid +little attention to what he said, but yawned and fidgeted, and seemed +glad when the service was over. + +"How is it the minister who preached on Tuesday did not come to-night?" +Molly ventured to ask of the woman who took care of the hall. + +"Because he's got better folk to preach to than any that come here," +was the quick rejoinder. "Why, don't you know who he is? He's the Rev. +Dr. Templeton, who preaches in the large church at the corner of Albion +Square, where lots of rich and fashionable people go. This mission hall +is in connection with his church, and he just came on Tuesday night to +start it, that was all." + +"Then won't he preach here again?" asked Molly. + +"No, I don't suppose he will; he's got something better to do, you see." + +"Come along, Molly; what do you want to stop in this place for?" cried +Kathleen, impatiently. + +Molly drew a sigh as she followed her. + +"Don't ask me to go there again," said Kathleen; "it's the dullest +affair I ever was at in my life." + +"I wish you could have heard the minister who preached on Tuesday," +said Molly; "you would have liked him. It has made me so happy to think +of the words he said about how Jesus loved us and died for us." + +"It was very fine, I daresay," replied Kathleen, tossing her head, "but +I don't believe in that sort of thing." + +"But it's all true, Kathleen; it's written in mother's book." + +"Well, that does not make it true, you little silly," returned +Kathleen, contemptuously: "do you think that everything that's printed +in a book must be true? If so, you don't know much. Why the play-books +I have, and those novels I read sometimes, are all untrue, every word +of them. For my part, I don't believe there's any one who loves us. It +certainly does not look like it, when we are so poor and friendless." + +Little Molly felt as though she had received a blow. Surely it could +not be as Kathleen said? It must be true that Jesus lived and loved her. + +Her heart beat fast with fear lest her precious hope should prove +false. She could not answer her sister's words, nor shake off the doubt +they aroused. She did not take up her book when they got home, but sat +still, musing uneasily on what Kathleen had said. + +When bedtime came, she whispered a prayer as she lay down to rest, but +she could not feel sure that it was heard, and her safe, happy feeling +was gone. + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER VI. + +DOUBT AND DISAPPOINTMENT. + +MOLLY woke the next morning feeling heavy and sad. At first she +wondered what had brought such a weight upon her heart, but she quickly +recollected the words Kathleen had uttered on the previous night, and +the doubt which had afterwards troubled her mind. + +But now, as she mused over Kathleen's words, after a night of +refreshing sleep, they lost their power to distress. + +"It was silly of me to be cast down by what Kathleen said," she +thought, as she rose and began to dress; "what difference can it +make what she thinks? It's not likely that she knows better than the +minister. Besides, I'm not sure that she really meant what she said, +for she often says things only for the sake of being contrary. No, no, +I'll not believe but what my book is true. It must be true; no one +could make up such a story." + +And as she began to get breakfast ready, whilst Kathleen still lingered +in bed, Molly sang softly the hymn she had heard at the mission hall, +"'Tell me the old, old story.'" + +"I wish you wouldn't make that noise, Molly," grumbled Kathleen, in a +sleepy tone. + +Molly hushed her song in a moment. + +But later in the morning, when Kathleen had gone out, she sang it +lustily as she went about her work. + +When she had finished tidying the room, she took her book and sat down +to read. There was not a shadow of doubt upon her mind as she read the +sacred story. And she was so absorbed in John's account of Christ's +healing the blind man that she failed to hear a tap at the door, and +was quite surprised when it suddenly opened, and Ned Jones looked in +upon her. + +"Hulloo! Little maid!" he exclaimed. "I thought you must be out when +you did not reply to my knock. What book are you reading that makes +you so deaf?" And he walked to where the child sat and peeped over her +shoulder. His face changed when he saw what the book was. + +"Oh! That's what you're reading, is it?" he said, in a tone of contempt. + +"Do you know it? Have you read it?" Molly asked eagerly. + +"Not likely! I know better. And, Molly, I should have thought you had +more sense than to muddle your head with that book!" + +"It doesn't muddle my head, Ned. I like it, and so would you like it if +you read it." + +"Oh, I daresay!" he returned, in a mocking tone. + +"Yes, you would like it," asserted Molly. "You should go to the mission +hall and hear the preaching there. That 'd make you want to read this +book." + +"No, thank you!" he laughed. "That sort of gammon won't do for me. I +know what their preaching is like, but I don't believe in it. It's very +fine talk, no doubt, but it's not true." + +"Not true!" repeated Molly; and her little face took a look of fear. + +"No!" continued Ned, in a tone of defiance. "I don't believe a word of +it's true. It's all very well for the rich swells to preach and pray +and build mission halls for the poor, but we know it's only a dodge +to keep us down, that they may trample on our rights, and do with us +just as they please. You should hear my uncle talk about it—he's such +a clever man my uncle is; there's no hoodwinking him. He belongs to +a club which meets once a week to discuss the wrongs of the working +classes, and how they should be set right. He took me to the club one +night; and I can tell you it was fine to hear him talk. Oh, he's such a +clever man!" + +"Does your uncle say that this book is not true?" asked little Molly, +gazing at Ned with an anxious, wistful look in her dark eyes. + +"Bless you, yes! He calls all religion cant and humbug. He says it's +very fine for the swells to talk about brotherly love and charity, and +so on. But they never show any brotherly love when they grind down the +poor man and let him go hungry and cold, whilst they never want for +anything. Oh, it's easy to see that their pretended goodness is all a +sham!" + +"Oh! Ned, don't talk like that!" cried little Molly, in a tone of +distress. "I know my minister is true! I'm sure he's a good, kind man, +and cares for the poor!" + +"Well, I daresay he's a good sort of fellow in his way. He does not +mind going amongst the poor to patronise them and to preach to them. +It's his business to do that. But you go to his fine church on Sunday, +Molly, and go in amongst the grand ladies and gentlemen who attend +there, and see what sort of a welcome you'll get." + +"Oh! I wish you would not talk so!" said Molly, with tears in her eyes. +"You make me very unhappy! And I was so happy before in believing that +Jesus Christ would be our Friend, and take care of me and Kathleen! I +thought it would be so nice to go every Sunday to the mission hall, but +now you've spoilt all by what you've said." + +Ned's face changed at her sorrowful words. The vain, self-confident +expression vanished, and he looked uneasy. + +"I'm very sorry I have made you unhappy, little Molly," he said. "I +daresay religion is a good thing for women and little girls. Go on +believing it, if it makes you happy." + +"But I can't, after all you've said," Molly exclaimed; "what good can +it do me to believe a thing that is not true? I don't want to believe +it, if it's not true." + +Ned felt uncomfortable, and wished his words unsaid. He was silent for +a few minutes, then, forgetful of the errand on which he had come up +to the attic, he nodded good-bye to Molly and went slowly down-stairs, +feeling heartily ashamed of himself for having robbed a little child of +the faith which made her happy. + +Left to herself, Molly sat down on the floor and had a good cry. It was +such a disappointment. She had a high opinion of Ned's wisdom, and Ned +had said that her book was not true. + +Her happy faith that the Lord Jesus loved her and watched over her was +a mistake, and she was the victim of a delusion and a sham. Little +Molly's experience of the world made it easy for her to believe in +such deception, and she felt ashamed now to think how readily she had +suffered herself to be imposed upon. She might have known better. She +had heard her father speak often enough of clever hoaxes and fair words +spoken to deceive. Had he not told her that she was in a bad, cruel +world, where no one could be trusted, and there was no one to care for +her? And when, as he lay on his death-bed, she spoke to him of the Son +of man, had he not said that he wished he knew if it were true? Well, +she knew now that it was not true; it was only a story, nothing more. + +Such were at first her thoughts. But presently hope re-asserted itself. +Was it quite certain that she was mistaken? + +Why should Ned's word be more trustworthy than the minister's? Ned's +uncle, clever though he was, could not know everything. + +She would not, she could not, cease to trust in the Lord Jesus; she +would go on believing, in spite of what Ned had said. + +Thus little Molly wisely resolved, but the impression left on her +mind by Ned's words was not to be shaken off. Her faith was weak and +trembling after such a shock. She continued to go to the Sunday evening +services, but she did not enjoy them as before. Whilst the preacher +spoke of Jesus and His love, she seemed to hear Ned saying, "It's only +a dodge of the rich swells to keep us down and trample on our rights." +And her heart grew sick with doubt and perplexity. + +How was she to find out the truth? Oh, how she wished she could again +hear the minister with the gentle, loving face, which had so won her +confidence that it was impossible to believe him anything but good and +kind, or to doubt the truth of what he said. + + +One Sunday morning, Molly went out alone for a stroll. She left +Kathleen in bed reading a novel. But the March day was too bright for +Molly to care to remain indoors. The sun shot down such warm rays as +might have deceived one into the belief that the reign of winter was +over, had not the keen east wind which swept round the corners of the +streets and drove the dust in clouds along the roads speedily destroyed +the illusion. + +Molly looked a miserable little mortal as she walked aimlessly on, +keeping ever on the sunny side of the road. Her face had grown thinner +and sharper during the weeks which had passed since her father's death, +and the old careworn expression was even more marked than before. There +was a restless, troubled look in her eyes as they glanced quickly from +side to side, taking note of every object which came within their range. + +Unconsciously, she had turned her steps in the direction of Albion +Square, and now she saw before her a handsome church, into which a +number of well-dressed persons were passing. At the same time, it +flashed on her mind that she had been told that her minister, as she +called him, preached in a church at the corner of Albion Square. The +thought quickened her steps. She ran across the road, and, taking a +position beside the church door, watched with curiosity, not unmixed +with envy, the grand-looking persons who entered the building. Amongst +them she saw many little girls, warmly and prettily clad, and looking +very happy as, led by parent or friend, they went into church. + +"How nice it must be to wear such beautiful clothes!" said Molly to +herself. And then she looked at her own ragged frock and the holes in +her shoes, and felt the tattered brim of her hat. How different her +appearance from that of these little girls! + +"If it's at all true about the Lord Jesus," thought Molly, "I guess +these are the little girls He loves. 'Taint likely He can care about +a poor, ragged, crooked child like me. I wish I could see the inside +of that church. I'd go in, but I expect they'd turn me away if I did. +I wonder if I could just creep inside the door for a minute and take +a peep round without being seen? I should so like to see my minister +again!" + +[Illustration: MOLLY IN THE CHURCH PORCH.] + +The temptation was not to be resisted. Screening herself behind a +portly old gentleman, Molly ascended the stately steps, and slipped +inside the church porch. + +She stood for a few moments half behind the door, trying to keep out of +sight of the smart-looking pew-opener, whom she suspected would prove +her enemy. + +But she forgot the need of caution when she saw her minister coming +in at the door. Yes, it was he; she was not mistaken. There was the +same kind face, wearing such a pleasant smile as he responded to the +greetings of the people about him. By his side walked a young lady, +beautifully dressed in rich velvet and fur. She was remarkably pretty, +but there was that in her bearing which seemed to indicate that she did +not underrate the impression her charms were calculated to produce. + +Little Molly was struck with this young lady's appearance. She thought +she had never seen any one so lovely. + +"She looks like an angel!" the child murmured to herself as she +gazed admiringly at the fair young girl with her golden hair and +delicate-featured face. + +But, unfortunately, in her eagerness to examine more closely the young +lady's beautiful dress, Molly pressed too near, and her dusty boots +trod upon the flowing skirt. Alas! It was no angelic look which came to +the young lady's face at that moment, but a look of anger and intense +disgust, as she hastily drew her dress as far as possible from the +little ragged child. She said nothing, but her expression was eloquent +enough, and Molly shrunk back with a sudden painful sense of her +shabby, unlovely appearance. The child's sensitive heart had received a +deep wound, and that look of repulsion lingered in her memory for many +a day. + +It was over in a moment. The young lady swept into the church, and the +minister passed to the vestry without seeing the forlorn child. + +Molly stood still for a few minutes, too bewildered to move from the +spot. + +She was conscious of many persons passing her, some of whom regarded +her with looks of surprise, as if wondering what business she had to be +there. + +But no one looked with pity on the poor child, or spoke a kind word to +her. + +"Now, then! What are you doing here?" said the pew-opener, roughly. +"This is not the place for you; you'd better be off!" + +The words roused Molly. She needed no second bidding to be off, but +hurrying into the street, hastened in the direction of home. + +But ere she had gone far, her steps flagged, and large tears dimmed her +sight. + +"It's just as Ned said!" she mused, sorrowfully. "Those people don't +care anything about us. And I don't believe it's true about Jesus +Christ. I guess Ned's uncle is right, and it's all a make-believe. +I won't think any more about it, and I won't go to the mission hall +again!" + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER VII. + +A STRANGE QUESTION. + +MOLLY held to her resolution, and kept away from the mission hall. +Yet it was hard to do so. She would go to the door of the hall, and +lingering there, listen to the singing with tears in her eyes. But +when she felt drawn to go in, she thought of Ned's words, and said to +herself, "No, it's all a cheat, and I won't be taken in again." + +Now, on a Sunday evening, Kathleen would persuade her to take a walk, +and they would wander idly through the streets, being joined, perhaps, +by some of Kathleen's associates of the theatre. Then there would be +much loud talking and foolish jesting, in which Molly had no heart +to join. But none of the girls took notice of her, save to ridicule +her odd appearance. At such times, Molly felt lonely indeed, but +remembering her promise to her father, she kept close to her sister's +side, and would not be driven away by her cold words or looks. + +Molly was growing uneasy about Kathleen. She fancied that her sister +was making friends of such persons at the theatre as her father would +not have liked her to know. The strange man whom Molly instinctively +dreaded often walked home with Kathleen of a night. The more Molly +saw of him, the more she distrusted and feared him. It was of no +use, however, for her to beg Kathleen to have nothing to say to him. +Kathleen only laughed and said that he was her best friend, and quite a +gentleman, and she should certainly talk with him as much as she liked. + +Molly felt weak and helpless. How could she take care of Kathleen? Oh, +if only it had been true about the unseen Friend! + +As spring advanced, and the days grew warm, the position of the poor +lonely girls did not improve. It had from the first been difficult to +make the few shillings which Kathleen earned at the theatre suffice for +the week's needs. Molly was a clever little manager, but Kathleen would +not always entrust the money to her care. Sometimes she chose to spend +it as she liked, and would invest the money that would have paid the +rent in a gay ribbon or flower for herself. Then for days little Molly +had to pinch and save and do with insufficient food, in order to make +up for Kathleen's extravagance. + +But now things grew even worse. As the winter season passed away, +Kathleen was not required at the theatre so often, and her earnings +were accordingly less. It was hard work to live on so little, and many +a night the girls lay down to sleep feeling hungry. One after another +articles taken from the box beneath their bed were carried to the +pawnshop. Molly could bear her own privations with patience, but it +grieved her to see her sister suffer want. Her heart ached sorely as +she listened to Kathleen's complaints, and saw that she was growing +pale and thin. + +"If only Mr. Vavasour were here, he would help us, I know," Kathleen +cried one day. "But he's away acting at the country theatres, and won't +be back for ever so long." + +"We can get along without his help," returned Molly, quickly. "I tell +you what, Kathleen, I've been wondering if there's not some way by +which 'I' can earn money." + +"You earn money, indeed!" exclaimed Kathleen, scornfully. "What an +idea! I should like to know how you would do it." + +"I can sweep and scrub and clean boots and knives," said little Molly. +"Perhaps some one might be willing to hire me for a few hours a day." + +"Not very likely," was Kathleen's unkind retort. "The look of you would +be enough for most folks. Who would care to have a little crook-backed +thing like you for a servant?" + +Molly was pained, and said no more, but she did not abandon her project. + + +After pondering over it for a while, she found courage to name it to +Mrs. Jones. + +At first, Mrs. Jones was scarcely more encouraging than Kathleen, but +she promised to inquire amongst her acquaintances, and if she heard of +any one needing a girl's help, to mention Molly. She kept her word, and +to good purpose, for at the close of the week, she told Molly that she +had found a place for her. Her sister-in-law, who kept a boarding-house +in George Street, was in want of a girl who could come for a few +hours in the morning to clean boots and knives. On Mrs. Jones's +recommendation, she was willing to try Molly. + +The child was delighted with this success, and felt quite rich when she +heard that she was to be paid two shillings a week for her work. + +She went to her new employment on the following Monday with a brave +heart, determined, if possible, to give satisfaction. Cleaning boots +and knives, running errands, and toiling up and down steep flights of +stairs was hard work for the child. She often came home at noon, on the +hot summer days, feeling faint and sick, and looking sadly pale and +worn, but she never complained of weariness. + +And Kathleen, pleased with the easier living which Molly's earnings +secured, did not doubt that her sister's strength was equal to the work +she undertook. + +Molly saw little of the inmates of the boarding-house, for most of them +were away at the time she was there. Yet with one of the boarders, she +chanced to form an acquaintance. She was sent one morning with a pair +of boots to the room occupied by Madame Ganelli, a professional singer +residing in the house. + +Molly tapped, as directed, at this lady's door, but the sound of her +gentle knock was lost in the flood of melody coming from the room. +Molly, who loved nothing better than to hear singing, stood still to +listen. Never before had she heard such music as this; the singing at +the mission hall was nothing compared with it. The child was as one +spell-bound, as the full, rich notes of an Italian melody, sung by a +fine and well-trained voice, fell on her ears. + +The door before her was ajar, and moved by an irresistible longing to +see the singer who could pour forth such a strain, Molly pushed it a +little further open, and peeped into the room. The scone which met her +gaze was somewhat disappointing. + +A more untidy room could hardly be. The bed was unmade, a tray bearing +remnants of breakfast stood on a side table, and various articles of +attire lay about the apartment just where the wearer had tossed them on +the previous night. Serene, in spite of the disorder around her, the +singer sat at a piano, littered with sheets of music. She was a woman +who had seen more than thirty years, and looked her full age at this +hour, as clad at her ease in dressing-gown and slippers, she practised +her singing. + +Her face was thin and sallow, but it was not without beauty, and the +gentle, melancholy expression it wore at this moment attracted little +Molly. + +The child knew she had no right to linger at the door, but it was hard +to turn away from such thrilling music. + +While she stood hesitating, the Italian song came to an end. And after +a few moments, the powerful voice broke forth in a new strain. This +time the words were English, and such as startled Molly. + + "'I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that He shall stand at the latter +day upon the earth.'" + +Molly's heart beat fast as she listened. + +She could not be deceived as to the meaning of the words. + +It must be Jesus Christ of whom the singer sang, for had she not heard +one of the preachers at the mission hall speak of Him as the Redeemer? +In her eagerness, she pressed closer to the open door. + +Everything was forgotten save the thrilling song, "'I know that my +Redeemer liveth.'" + +At first, the notes were low and uncertain, but the singer repeated +them again and again with growing power, till presently the words +swelled forth in a strain which seemed to breathe triumphant faith. + +Little Molly could not doubt that the singer felt the significance +of the words she sang. The child's heart bounded with hope. Here, +then, was one who firmly believed in the Lord Jesus Christ. Oh! She +must speak to her; she must ask her how it was she was so sure that +the Redeemer lived? And without waiting to consider the wisdom of +her impulse, Molly made three steps into the room, and startled the +performer by exclaiming,— + +"Please, lady, how is it you know that the Redeemer lives? Oh! I wish +you would tell me, for I do so want to be sure about the Lord Jesus!" + +With a start of amazement, the lady turned, and looked with astonished +eyes on the strange little mortal addressing her. "Who are you, child?" +she exclaimed. "And what did you say to me?" + +"I'm Molly, please, ma'am," replied the child, trembling as she became +conscious of the boldness of her action. "Molly Macardie, what cleans +the boots and knives. I came to bring you your boots, and I heard you +singing, and I wanted to ask you how you know that the Redeemer lives, +for I do so want to be certain that the Lord Jesus lives and loves us." + +The lady made no reply. Her face grew very red, and she turned round +quickly to the piano. + +Molly thought the lady must be angry with her for her unceremonious +entrance. + +"Please, ma'am," she said humbly, "I know I ought not to have come into +your room so sudden-like, without knocking. I promise you I'll never do +it again if only you'll tell me about the Lord Jesus." + +The lady turned round again, and once more surveyed the little deformed +child. But she could scarcely bear to meet the earnest gaze of Molly's +wistful dark eyes; they seemed to read her very soul. + +"You have come to the wrong person, child," she said, speaking not +unkindly; "I know little of the One you name." + +"But you were singing about Him," urged little Molly. "'I know that my +Redeemer liveth'—I heard the words as plain as could be." + +"I dare say you did," returned the singer, "but I don't often think of +the meaning of the words I sing; and this sort of music is not much in +my line. I am only practising it to-day, because I've promised to take +part in a concert to-morrow, in place of a friend of mine, who is ill." + +Molly gazed at her with a face expressive of the deepest disappointment. + +"Come, child, don't look so sorry," said the lady, touched with pity; +"have you no father nor mother, who can teach you what you want to +know?" + +"Father and mother are both dead," replied Molly; "I've no one but +Kathleen to teach me anything, and Kathleen says she don't believe it's +true about the Lord Jesus." + +"And who is Kathleen?" asked the lady. + +"Kathleen's my sister," said Molly, proudly. "But you mustn't think +she's like me," she made haste to add. "She's as different as can be. +Kathleen is tall and straight, and her face is so pretty. No one would +take us for sisters." + +"Is she older than you?" + +"Oh yes; she is fifteen, and acts at a theatre. I saw her acting +once, and I can tell you it was grand. But although I'm younger than +Kathleen, father told me that I was to take care of her. I always go to +the theatre every night to bring her home, because father did not like +her to walk through the streets alone." + +"Poor girl!" sighed the singer, involuntarily. "Has she no one but you +to protect her? And you say that she is pretty, too. Ah! Poor girl!" + +"No, there's no one but me to take care of her," replied Molly; "and +I'm such a poor little thing. That's why I was glad to hear at the +mission hall about the Lord Jesus. I thought He would be our Friend, +and watch over us. But Ned Jones says it's not true about Him, only +a make-believe. So now I don't go to the mission hall, for I don't +want to hear about Him, if it's not true. I thought you'd be able to +tell me, ma'am, when I heard you sing. But I must go now. I'm sorry I +disturbed you." + +And with a sigh, Molly turned to the door. + +"Stay, little girl," cried the lady, suddenly, "come here and listen to +what I have to say. I can't tell you much about these things, for I'm +not at all good myself, but I do know one thing. I know that it 'is' +true about the Lord Jesus." + +"Oh, is it really? Please tell me how you know!" cried Molly, eagerly. + +"I know it, Molly, because I had a good father," said the lady, and her +voice quivered as she spoke; "and my father loved and served the Lord +Jesus. Oh, when I remember my father's holy life, I 'know' that it's +all true!" + +"But don't you love the Lord, too?" asked Molly, with a look of wonder +on her face. + +"You wouldn't ask that, child, if you knew how wicked I am," replied +the singer, rising suddenly from the piano and walking to the other +side of the room. "I'm so bad that I scarcely dared to take those +sacred words into my lips. Often have I tried to persuade myself that +the Bible was not true—that there was no God, and no hereafter. I +should have been glad to deny it all. But it was of no use. I could not +help believing. Something within my heart always said that it was true." + +There were tears in her eyes as she spoke, but she would not give way +to emotion. Dashing away her tears, and turning again to the child, +she said, brusquely: "You must go now, child. I've no more time for +talking. I advise you to go again to the mission hall, and hear what +the minister says, for it's all true, depend upon it." + +Molly's face brightened at these words. She stepped to the door, but +paused with her hand on the latch. The child felt drawn to this lady, +who had spoken to her so kindly. She had seen the tears in her eyes, +and she longed to comfort her. + +"What will 'you' do, ma'am?" she asked, timidly. "Don't 'you' want to +go to the mission hall, and hear about the Lord Jesus?" + +The warm colour came back to the lady's face, but she responded +quickly: "No, child, no: my day for that sort of thing has gone by. Now +run away. You may come and see me again some day, but I cannot talk to +you longer now." + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER VIII. + +MOLLY HAS A TALK WITH HER MINISTER. + +THE singer's advice was not thrown away upon Molly, for that very +evening she went to the mission hall. Special services were being +held there every night of this week. Molly had longed to go to these +services, but the recollection of Ned's words, and the resolution she +had formed on that Sunday morning when sorely wounded in spirit she had +turned away from the grand church in Albion Square, had sufficed to +keep her away. + +Now, however, she went with a hopeful heart. Not that she could at once +cast away her doubts. Her nature differed from that of most children. +The mind which dwelt in that tiny, stunted form was far too old for its +years, and this anxious, questioning mind was not to be satisfied with +a mere word. + +Yet it was a great thing to have heard a grown-up woman declare so +positively that it was true that the Saviour lived, even whilst it +appeared that she did not love the Lord of whose existence she was +certain. The singer's declaration was a powerful antidote to those +words of Ned, which had so shaken Molly's mind. + +So Molly went to the mission hall, prepared to pay earnest heed to the +words that were spoken there. Great was her joy when she perceived +that the preacher this night was none other than "her" minister. Again +she looked upon his pleasant face, and traced its resemblance to that +of the Good Shepherd in the picture, and again she listened with rapt +attention to his thrilling words, as he told the old, old story of the +Saviour's love. + +The weather all day had been close and sultry, and in the narrow +streets and crowded homes of the neighbourhood the heat was well-nigh +stifling. As evening fell, a tempest broke over the city, and the +preacher's concluding words were lost in a crash of thunder. + +The hall had grown dark in the gathering gloom, but now it was fitfully +illuminated by the lightning's gleams. Awe and terror fell upon the +assembled people. + +They looked at one another in consternation. Some women screamed, and +those whose homes were nearest, hastened from the hall. The minister +tried to calm their fears by a few assuring words, and then with a +brief prayer brought the service to an end. + +There followed a scene of confusion. For a time the storm was so severe +that few ventured to quit the hall. The minister left his desk, and +coming into the midst of the frightened people talked cheeringly to +them. + +Molly crept near to him, and looked up in his face. She had no fear of +the storm. It pleased her to listen to the mighty roar of the thunder, +and to have her eyes dazzled by the fiery lightning. She was glad of +this opportunity of looking more closely upon her minister, and hearing +more words from his lips. She would have liked to speak to him, but was +too shy to make any effort to attract his notice. + +Whilst she waited, the fury of the storm gradually abated, and in spite +of the torrents of rain which fell, the congregation soon dispersed. +Molly went to the door, but there she lingered. It was not fear of the +rain which kept her there. She was too used to getting wet through as +she went about the streets to think much of that. + +She stood on the step with the droppings from the roof falling upon +her, and tried to gather courage to speak to the minister as he came +out. He looked so kind and good, she need not fear to address him, she +thought. + +Peeping round the door-post, Molly watched him as he stood saying a few +words to the woman who took care of the hall. Her heart beat fast as +she heard him bid the woman good-night, and saw him coming towards the +door; but desire made her bold. + +The minister was looking so intently at the clouds that he did not +observe the little figure standing on the step. Umbrella in hand, he +was debating whether he should venture into the rain or wait till the +shower was over, when he was surprised by the touch of a cold little +hand, and a shrill voice, trembling with eagerness, said: + +"Please, sir, how do you know that it's all real true?" + +He turned and saw by his side a tiny child, clad in thin and ragged +garments. His heart was touched with pity as he noted the weak, +deformed little body, and met the earnest gaze of Molly's sad, dark +eyes, looking unnaturally large and brilliant, in contrast to the wee, +wasted face in which they were set. + +"Who are you, my child?" he asked gently. "And what do you want with +me?" + +"I'm Molly Macardie," she answered simply, "and I want to know if it's +all real true about Jesus Christ, and if He does really love us and +care for us, as you say." + +"All real true about Jesus Christ!" repeated the minister, wonderingly. +"Assuredly it is, my child. Who has been telling you otherwise?" + +"Ned Jones says it's nothing but a make-believe," asserted Molly; "and +Kathleen, my sister, says she don't believe there's any one loves us, +as you say Jesus does. I was so sorry to hear them say such things, +because I liked to think about Jesus, and to come here and hear about +Him." + +"I see," said the minister kindly, as he drew her inside the hall; "so +you want me to tell you how I know it to be true about the Lord Jesus?" + +"Yes, that's it, sir," said Molly, eagerly; "I knew you could tell +me, and you looked so kind and good, just like the Son of man in the +picture, that I thought I wouldn't be afraid to ask you." + +"Not like the Son of man, child," returned the minister, with a sigh, +as his eyes followed the direction of hers, and rested on the picture +of the Good Shepherd. "I'm far from being that. But now tell me more +about yourself, Molly, that I may know how I can best help you. Who is +this Ned Jones?" + +And sitting down, and giving the child a seat near him, he drew from +her the story of her strange little life. Molly's shyness vanished +before his kind manner, and she told him freely all about herself. She +talked to him of the lovely sister whose sole guardian she was, and of +the father who on his death-bed had begged her to take care of that +sister. + +Tears dimmed the minister's eyes as he listened to her artless words. +And when he spoke, his voice was full of pity. "And have you no one +to take care of you, my poor child; not a single friend to show you +kindness?" + +"Mrs. Jones is kind in her way," said Molly, "but Kathleen says we must +not trust too much to her, for she'd turn us away to-morrow if we could +not pay the rent. We've no one else to look after us. That is why I was +so glad to hear that the Lord Jesus would be our Friend, and watch over +us." + +"And He will be; He is your Friend," said the minister, solemnly. "He +does watch over you. Do not doubt it, little Molly." + +The child's face brightened, but there was still a questioning look in +her eyes. + +"You want me to tell you how I know that it is so," said the minister, +anticipating her question. "Well, the best proof I can give you is that +drawn from my own experience. I know that Jesus lives, because I have +found Him my Friend and Saviour. You see that picture, Molly, of the +Shepherd with the lamb in His arms?" + +"Yes," said Molly, as her eyes sought it. + +"That lamb had wandered from the fold. It was lost on the dark +mountains amidst slippery slopes and dangerous precipices, and must +have perished, had not the Shepherd gone forth into the darkness to +seek it, and never rested till He had it in His arms. Molly, I was once +lost like that lamb." + +"You?" repeated Molly, in amazement. "You lost like that lamb?" + +"Yes," said the minister slowly; "when I was young, I went astray like +a lost sheep. I wandered far, far from God. I was lost in the darkness, +living without God and without hope in the world. But the Good Shepherd +would not leave me thus. He sought me and brought me home. I found in +Jesus a Saviour and a Friend, and His love has never failed me yet. +I have been too ready to leave His side, but He has never forsaken +me—never. So now, Molly, knowing what a friend Jesus has been to me, I +am not afraid to tell you to trust Him." + +"But are you sure He will be my Friend?" asked the child, anxiously. "I +daresay He loves you, and the pretty, smart little girls, but I don't +see that He can care for an ugly, crooked little thing like me." + +The minister smiled sadly as he replied: "He does love you, Molly. +There is no respect of persons with Him. Tell me, my child, do you +think that your mother, if she had lived, would have loved you the less +on account of your weakness?" + +"Why, yes," replied Molly, promptly; "of course I do. It ain't possible +that she could have loved me as she loved Kathleen." + +"Ah! Child, you do not know a mother's heart," said the minister. "A +true mother bestows her tenderest love and care on her most feeble +child. I believe, Molly, that your weakness would have secured you the +first place in your mother's heart. But I am sure of this—that the Lord +Jesus only loves you the more because you are lonely and weak. + + "'He gathers the lambs in His arms, and carries them in His bosom.'" + +"Oh, I am so glad!" cried Molly, clasping her hands in delight. "I'm so +glad that Jesus loves me! I'm so glad that you say it's all real true. +I won't mind anything that Ned Jones says again!" + +"Yes, yes, it's all true," said the minister; "and the Lord Himself +will teach you so, if you let Him. You cannot be sure of His love +unless you come to Him and give Him the trust of your heart. The +Shepherd could not save the lamb if it persisted in keeping away from +Him, and no one can know the Lord by merely looking at Him from a +distance, or judging Him by those who call themselves His friends. You +must pray to Him, little Molly, and look to Him every day for guidance +and strength, and He will help you and bless you!" + +"I 'will' pray to Him," said Molly. "I will ask Him every day to take +care of me and Kathleen, and to make us good!" + +"I will tell you a little prayer you may use if ever again you feel +inclined to doubt the Lord's goodness because of anything others may +say to you. It was uttered by one who came to Jesus when He was on +earth—a poor man who longed to believe, yet could not as he would. + + "'Lord, I believe; help Thou my unbelief,' + +"he said; and the Lord heard his cry and had mercy on him. Can you +remember the words?" + +"'Lord, I believe; help Thou my unbelief,'" repeated Molly. + +"Make that your prayer, my dear child, if ever again you find it hard +to believe that it's all true about the Lord Jesus. And now you must +run home, for it is getting late—too late for a child like you to be in +the streets. Tell me where you live, and I will come and see you and +your sister." + +Molly readily described the street in which she lived, then, bidding +the minister good-night, she hastened away with a light heart, not +turning homewards, as he supposed, but taking her way through the wet +streets to the theatre, where she would meet her sister. + +The minister watched her with a look of pity as she ran through the +rain, to which her thin garments could offer but slight resistance. + +He had a little daughter at home of the same age as Molly, and the +thought of his bright-eyed, rosy-checked Nelly made his heart very +tender towards this poor desolate child. + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE REST OF FAITH. + +LITTLE MOLLY was a happier child after she had had that talk with the +minister. Not that her life was any easier. + +She had still to work so hard that her little bones ached so much that +sometimes she could scarcely sleep at night for the pain. She had still +to bear fretful words and bursts of temper from Kathleen, who reserved +her bright looks and pleasant words for her companions at the theatre, +and seldom spoke kindly to Molly. + +But Molly knew now that Jesus loved her. Every day and many times in +the day she prayed to the Saviour, and she was sure that He heard her. +She began to read her Testament once more with renewed delight. The +Holy Spirit taught her the meaning of what she read, and gave her such +a sense of the grace and love of the Lord Jesus as filled her young +soul with a light which no shadow of doubt could dispel. + +"You and your uncle, clever though he is, are both wrong in saying this +book is not true," she said to Ned Jones, one day. "I have had a talk +with the minister, and he has made me know that it is true. I am sure +now that the Lord Jesus loves me and Kathleen, and will take care of +us. And oh! It makes me so happy!" + +And Ned Jones, as he saw the glad light which shone in the child's +eyes, had not a word to say in reply. His faith in his uncle's wisdom +was shaken. Might not little Molly be right, after all? + +There came to his mind some words he had heard, he knew not where; they +were these: + + "Thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast +revealed them unto babes." + +Ned was resolved he would never breathe another word of doubt to little +Molly. + +The minister's promise to visit her was not forgotten by Molly. Day by +day she looked for his coming, and every spare moment was devoted to +making the tiny attic look as clean as possible for his reception. + +Kathleen laughed to see how Molly scrubbed and polished, yet even +Kathleen was excited at the prospect of the gentleman's visit. It was +such a new thing for any one to take an interest in them. Molly's great +fear was lest the minister should come when she was away from home. +Every day, when she returned from her morning's toil, she questioned +Mrs. Jones as to whether a gentleman had been there. + +But Mrs. Jones constantly returned the same answer. And as day after +day went by and the minister did not come, Molly began to fear +disappointment. + +The fear deepened as days grew into weeks, and weeks into months, and +yet he did not come. And as the hope of his coming died out of Molly's +heart, her disappointment was keen. + +"I don't believe he ever meant to come," said Kathleen, contemptuously. + +But Molly could not believe this, though her heart was very sore at his +non-fulfilment of his promise. + + +It was a pity she could not know why he had failed to come. When the +minister reached his home that evening, after parting with little Molly +at the mission hall, he found trouble awaiting him there. His little +Nelly had suddenly been taken ill. There was a physician in attendance, +whose grave demeanour bespoke the presence of danger. Hours passed on, +and the child grew no better. + +The drear words, "No hope!" were spoken. And after lingering in +suffering for two or three days, the young spirit passed to the home +above. + +No wonder that in days of such anxiety and sorrow, Molly should be +forgotten. + +When at length the minister thought of her, he could not remember the +name of the street in which the child had said she lived. + +There was no time then to seek her. The summer season had worn to its +close, and all well-to-do people were hastening to escape from the dust +and glare of London to the bracing breezes which blow by the sea-shore. + +It was desirable that he should, without delay, take his sorrowing wife +and children to seek the soothing influences of fresh air and change +of scene. So, reluctantly, the minister was forced to postpone his +promised visit to little Molly. And, commending her to the care of the +Good Shepherd, he went away. + + +Molly's friend, Madame Ganelli, was also out of town at this time, and +many weeks passed ere she again saw her. Then one day, soon after her +return to London, the singer called Molly to her room, and showed her +a discarded dress, which she intended to convert into a frock for the +child. + +Molly was not a little delighted at the prospect of having a new frock +in place of the shabby one she wore, and she thanked the lady heartily +for her kindness. + +Their talk was all about the dress, till just as Molly was going away, +the lady said, "Well, how about the mission hall? Have you been there +again?" + +"Oh yes!" cried Molly, her face lighting up. "Oh yes and I spoke to +the minister, and he was so kind. I am quite, quite sure now that it's +all real true about the Lord Jesus. He loves me and Kathleen, and you, +ma'am, and everybody!" + +"Does He love me, Molly?" said the lady in a low tone, turning away her +face as she spoke. "I'm not so sure of that." + +"But it's true—real true!" declared Molly. "Do you think your mother +loved you, ma'am?" she asked, after a moment's silence. + +Madame Ganelli started at the question. + +"Do I think my mother loved me?" she repeated, in a tone which vibrated +with quick emotion. "Ay, that she did! Would that she had not loved me +so well! It was love for me that broke her heart!" + +"I've heard the minister say that Jesus loves us better than even a +mother could," said little Molly. "He died for us because He loved us +so!" + +"I wish I could feel sure that He loves me," said the singer, "but I am +so wicked, and I've led such a bad life!" + +"He'll make you good if you ask Him," said Molly, confidently. + +"Will you ask Him for me, child?" said the lady. "When you pray for +yourself and Kathleen, will you pray for me, too?" + +Molly nodded. + +"I'll be sure to," she said. "But oh! ma'am, won't you ask Him +yourself? He'll hear you if you speak ever so low." + +But Madame Ganelli made no reply. And thinking she had stayed too long, +Molly went down-stairs. + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER X. + +KATHLEEN IS A SOURCE OF GRAVE ANXIETY. + +THE autumn months proved wet and dreary. Winter with its sharp frosts +and chilling mists set in early, and Molly was thankful for the warm +frock which her kind friend had provided for her. + +Kathleen was now fully engaged at the theatre. But Molly reaped small +advantage from her increased earnings, for her sister loved to squander +her money in useless finery. + +Little Molly was growing more and more uneasy on her sister's account. +She scarcely knew what it was that she feared, but she had a vague +notion that Kathleen's character was suffering from her connection with +the theatre, and the associates she found there. It was in vain Molly +tried to speak of the Saviour to Kathleen. She only laughed at Molly's +"pious" ways, and refused to hear a word of what she called "cant." + +How could Molly guard her sister from evil? There was one way, and only +one way, in which she could help Kathleen. + +She was weak and helpless, but the unseen Friend was strong and mighty. +Surely Jesus would take care of Kathleen; and in faith that He would, +the child daily confided her sister to the Saviour's care. + +Kathleen had no idea of the anxiety with which Molly's heart was +burdened on her account. She was in excellent spirits at this time, +cherishing bright though delusive visions of a happy future. + +Once or twice she dropped hints of a delightful secret which Molly did +not share, and seemed ever in a flutter of excitement and gaiety. Molly +wondered at her sister's manner, and could not understand it. But at +last, its meaning was explained. + +"Look, Molly!" cried Kathleen, in a joyous tone one night, when +they had come back from the theatre, and had just parted from Mr. +Vavasour—"Look here!" And she held up to view a beautiful pair of pearl +earrings. + +"Oh, Kathleen, what pretty things!" cried Molly, in surprise. "Where +did you get them?" + +"I neither found them nor stole them," returned her sister, +triumphantly. "Mr. Vavasour gave them to me. Isn't he kind?" + +"They are very pretty," said Molly. Yet somehow she did not like them +so well, when she heard who had given them. + +"How do they look?" asked Kathleen, as she fitted them into her ears, +which had long been bare of such ornaments. + +Molly was forced to confess that they looked very grand indeed. + +"Ain't they splendid?" exclaimed Kathleen, as she peered into the +little cracked looking-glass, which was the only mirror the sisters +could boast. "Oh, Molly, wouldn't it be nice to be a rich lady, and +have money to buy lots of lovely things?" + +"Yes; I'd like to be a lady," said little Molly. "I know what I'd do +if I were rich," she added, softly; "I'd find out all the poor little +girls that hadn't no fathers nor mothers to take care of them, and I'd +give them warm clothes to wear, and nice things to eat and drink, and +I'd be ever so good to them." + +"But wouldn't you like to buy yourself silk frocks and laces and +feathers?" asked Kathleen. + +"I don't know," replied Molly; "all the gay clothes in the world +wouldn't make much difference to my looks, I guess; so it wouldn't be +any use my buying them, you see." + +"But I should look well in them," cried Kathleen; "and I can tell you, +Molly, I mean to be a lady some day, and that before very long." + +"'You' a lady!" exclaimed Molly, opening her eyes wide. "What do you +mean, Kathleen?" + +"I will tell you," said Kathleen. "I've wanted to tell you for days, +but I didn't like. Now, Molly, you must not cry or make a fuss. I'm +going to leave you." + +Molly could not believe her ears. + +"To leave me!" she exclaimed, in amazement. "How? When? I don't +understand." + +"I am going to leave you to-morrow," returned her sister, with cruel +distinctness. "I am going away to learn to be a first-rate actress. +There's a fine time before me. I shall be quite a lady, and wear pretty +dresses, and have plenty of nice things to eat and drink. Mr. Vavasour +has arranged it all; he's so good to me, is Mr. Vavasour. He has set +his heart on seeing me a splendid actress. What is the matter, Molly? +Why do you look like that?" + +Molly's face had grown very pale, and there was a look in her eyes +which Kathleen could not bear to see. + +"Oh, Kathleen, you cannot mean it?" she exclaimed, coming close to her +sister and clasping her tightly, as though she would never let her go. +"You cannot mean to go and leave me—me, Molly, your little sister, who +has no one else to love her? Oh, Kathleen, you cannot do it!" + +"But, Molly, it is for my good, and for your good, too, in the end," +said Kathleen. "Think what a fine thing it is for me. I shall learn to +be a splendid actress, and then I shall earn heaps of money. And I am +not going away from you altogether. I shall come and see you sometimes, +and bring you some of the money I earn. Mr. Vavasour kept saying what a +good thing it would be for you as well as for me. You would not have me +give up such a fine chance, surely?" + +"Not if it was really for your good," said Molly, tremulously; "but oh, +Kathleen, I can't believe it. I don't like that Mr. Vavasour: he looks +a horrid bad man. I wouldn't trust what he says, if I were you." + +"Nonsense, Molly, what can you know of him?" was Kathleen's quick +retort. "I can tell you he is a good friend to me." + +"Do you think father would have liked you to make a friend of Mr. +Vavasour?" asked Molly. + +"I don't know," replied Kathleen. But her heightened colour seemed to +show that she did know. + +"Oh, I'm sure father would not have liked it," said Molly, earnestly; +"and he would not have liked you to leave me. He said I was always to +take care of you; and how can I take care of you if you go away?" + +"Don't talk rubbish!" returned Kathleen. "I'm quite old enough now to +take care of myself." + +"But what shall I do all alone?" urged Molly. "Won't you think of that, +Kathleen?" + +"You'll manage well enough," said her sister, looking away from Molly +as she uttered the unkind words. + +Molly's heart failed her, and she burst into tears. + +"Now, don't cry like that!" exclaimed Kathleen, in a tone which +betrayed some emotion. "It's all settled, and can't be altered, so it's +of no use to make a fuss. I don't like leaving you, but there's no help +for it. I asked Mr. Vavasour if I could not take you with me, but he +said that was impossible. I'll come and see you as often as ever I can, +and bring you lots of nice things; so cheer up." + +But Molly could not cheer up. How could she bear to think of Kathleen's +leaving her? What would life be worth to her without Kathleen? She +could not picture to herself the desolation that would follow. + +Her tears fell fast, till Kathleen, weary of seeing her weep, proposed +that they should go to bed. They slowly undressed, and lay down +side by side; both with heavy hearts, for Kathleen felt many gloomy +forebodings, in spite of the bright anticipations she had professed. + +Then, in the darkness, Molly confided her sorrow to the unseen Friend, +trying to believe that He would help her in this sore trouble. It +seemed as if everything were going wrong; yet surely He could set all +right. But would He? + + "'Lord, I believe: help Thou my unbelief,'" prayed little Molly. + +Comfort came with prayer. The load which pressed upon her heart was +lightened: she ceased to sob, and was fast forgetting her sorrow in +sleep, when she felt Kathleen's arm softly stealing around her. + +"Molly," Kathleen whispered, "I'm real sorry to leave you, but it can't +be helped now. You've been a good little sister to me, and I love you; +I do indeed, for all I've so often been cross with you. Kiss me, Molly." + +Molly turned in a moment, and throwing her arms about her sister's neck +kissed her again and again. Then nestling close together, the two poor +children fell asleep. + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER XI. + +A SISTER'S DANGER. + +"NOW, Molly, remember you are not to meet me at the theatre to-night. +There's no need, as I shall not be coming back here again," said +Kathleen to her sister the next morning. She spoke sharply. The emotion +she had shown on the previous night was no longer visible in word or +look. + +Molly was about to set off for her morning's work at the +boarding-house. She started at her sister's words, and turned towards +her with a beseeching look: + +"Oh, Kathleen, let me come," she pleaded; "you know I promised father." + +"No, you must not come. I will not have you come. Do you understand?" + +"Yes, but oh, Kathleen! I 'must' come. I cannot stay away." + +"How tiresome you are Molly!" exclaimed Kathleen, and in sudden anger +she raised her hand and struck Molly in the face. + +Molly shrunk back—her face crimson, her heart throbbing. + +Never would Kathleen forget the look of pain and reproach with which +her little sister quitted the room and went off to her work. + +That look haunted Kathleen during the rest of the day. For the first +time, it struck her how pale and thin Molly had looked of late. A small +sickly child she had ever been, but surely she had not before looked +so ill as she now did? A pang of compunction visited Kathleen, as she +reflected how completely she had failed to cherish her little sister. + + +Molly went about her work that morning with an aching heart. The +recollection of Kathleen's loving words as she bade her good-night, +made it easy for her to forgive the hasty blow. But the thought of the +coming separation and her fears for her sister's future rendered her +most unhappy. + +Madame Ganelli, meeting the child on the stairs, was struck with the +woebegone expression of her little face. + +"Why, what is the matter with you, Molly?" she exclaimed. "You look +as if you were suffering all the woes of the world. And what is the +meaning of that red mark on your forehead? Have you had a fall?" + +Thus questioned, Molly could only cry. + +Madame Ganelli saw that something had gone seriously wrong with her +little friend. + +"Come in here, child," she said, opening the door of her own room; +"come in here, and tell me quietly what it is that troubles you." + +For some minutes Molly's sobs prevented her from speaking. But at last, +growing calmer, she was able to explain Kathleen's intention of leaving +her, and the distress it gave her. + +Madame Ganelli listened in silence till Molly mentioned Mr. Vavasour's +name. At the sound of that name, the lady started and turned pale. + +"Vavasour, did you say!" she exclaimed. "Tell me, do you mean the man +acting under that name at the S— Theatre?" + +Molly nodded. + +"Oh dear! Oh dear!" cried the singer, greatly agitated. "You must not +let your sister have anything to say to that man, you must not indeed, +my child! I know him well; he is a bad, unprincipled man!" + +"I knew it!" cried Molly. "I was sure that he was bad, but Kathleen +would not listen to me. Oh! What shall I do?" + +"You must save her from that man at whatever cost!" said Madame +Ganelli, solemnly. "Beseech her, as she values her own soul, to shun +his friendship. Do not let her out of your sight, Molly; and if he +should persist in annoying her, just name me to him, and see what +effect that will have. I would go with you to the theatre and confront +him, but I am obliged to sing at a concert to-night; and even now I +have an engagement for which I shall be too late if I stay another +moment. But oh, Molly! Pay heed to my words—you must save your sister +from that man!" + +"I will! I will!" cried Molly, earnestly, as the lady hastened away. + +Trembling and frightened, Molly went back to her work. It was hard to +do it with such anxiety and fear working in her heart. But she prayed +to the unseen Friend, and He gave her the strength she needed. + +She was thankful when the hour of dismissal came, and she was free to +run home. It was a cold, cheerless day, but Molly ran home so fast +that she was hot and breathless when she reached the house. Hurrying +up the stairs, she opened the door of the attic, only to find, to her +surprise, that Kathleen was not there. + +"She will be in soon," thought Molly, though her heart sunk within her. + +She began to prepare dinner, but she might have spared herself the +trouble, for the dinner-hour came and went, and time passed on, yet +Kathleen did not come. Fearing further reproaches and pleadings from +Molly, she chose to walk about the streets, and make her dinner of a +hot pie, rather than face her sister. + +Her absence made Molly very uneasy. Too heart-sick to eat, she sat and +waited, growing faint and weary and more and more anxious as the hours +went on. She would have gone out to seek her sister, but feared to miss +her by so doing, and she wished to lose no time in warning Kathleen +against Mr. Vavasour. + +After a while, Molly went to Mrs. Jones, and asked if she could tell +her at what hour Kathleen had gone out, and whether she had left any +message. But Mrs. Jones knew nothing of Kathleen's movements. She had +not seen the girl all day. + +So, with growing anxiety, Molly went back to her lonely attic. + +She must save her sister, Madame Ganelli had said, but how was she to +do it? She did not even know where Kathleen was at this hour. Oh! She +would do anything, anything to save Kathleen from evil, but it seemed +beyond her power. + +There was One, however, who could help her. Surely the Lord Jesus would +save Kathleen. He knew where she was. His eye was upon her. He could +defend her from harm. And, falling on her knees, Molly entreated the +Lord to have pity upon Kathleen! + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER XII. + +KATHLEEN IS SAVED. + +DAY faded into night, but Kathleen did not come. It grew so late that +Molly, feeling certain that her sister could not intend to return home +before going to the theatre, resolved to go thither in search of her. + +She put on her cloak and hat and went down-stairs. An icy wind, laden +with tiny snowflakes, blew in her face as she opened the house door. It +was a dreary night. Already the pavements were white, and the gloomy +sky, without a star, threatened more snow. + +But Molly was not to be deterred by the weather. She hurried along, +bravely struggling with the fierce wind, which took away her breath, +and drove her backwards. + +Once she slipped and fell, but scarce conscious of her bruises, picked +herself up, and hurried on. She reached the theatre at last, but looked +in vain for Kathleen, who was already within the building. As she stood +at the side door, she asked some of the players who passed her if she +might see her sister for a few minutes before the play began. But they +said they did not know, and advised her to wait or to come again when +the theatre closed. + +Molly would not go away, lest she should miss some chance of saving her +sister. + +It was painful waiting in that bitter cold. The child's limbs grew +numb, and to warm them she began to walk to and fro in front of the +theatre. On such a rough night, the playgoers were few. But Molly saw +some carriages drive up, and their occupants, warmly muffled, alight, +and hurry into the theatre. Amongst these was a young lady with whose +appearance Molly was particularly struck. She was a dark handsome girl, +whose bright face bore a strong resemblance to Kathleen's. + +She wore elegant and costly attire, such as Kathleen coveted, and was +accompanied by a gentleman who was evidently her father. + +Molly noted the loving care with which he helped his daughter from the +carriage, and took her into the hall. + +The sight gave Molly a pang of envy—not on her account, but on that of +her sister. + +Why should that girl be so loved and guarded, whilst Kathleen, equally +pretty and graceful, was all alone in the world, with no one to protect +her from danger, save her weak and helpless little sister? Was it fair? +Why did God suffer such differences to be? Could He not make things +more equal, if He liked? It seemed as if He did not care. Was it indeed +true that there was One who loved the poor and friendless? + +Once more, the old doubt stirred in Molly's heart, but she would not +give it place. + + "'Lord, I believe; help Thou my unbelief!'" she cried. + +And faith grew strong again. + +But soon it began to snow in real earnest, and the misery of Molly's +situation was doubled. The snow covered her like a cloud, and wetted +her to the skin. She must have perished of cold, had not a cabman, who +had been watching her as she wandered up and down, taken compassion on +her. + +"Why don't you go home, little girl?" he called to her. "You'll be +frozen if you stay here in the snow." + +"I can't go home," said Molly; "I'm waiting for my sister, who's in the +theatre." + +"You don't mean that she's gone in and left you outside," said the +cabman. "That is a shame." + +"She did not know; she could not help it," explained Molly. "She is one +of the dancers, and I must wait till she comes out." + +"Dear me, that's a pity," said the man; "it's not fit for a little +child like you to be in the streets to-night. But come and sit in my +cab; you'll be a little warmer here." + +Molly gladly availed herself of this invitation. She got into the cab, +and the man piled the straw about her feet and ankles, and wrapped a +rug around her. Then he ran to a coffee-stall close by, and came back +with a steaming cup of coffee, which he made Molly drink. It brought +a warmer colour to her blue, pinched little face; her teeth ceased to +chatter and her limbs to shake, and she soon declared herself quite +warm. + +"You do look a bit better," said the friendly cabman, "but now tell me, +child, what can your mother be thinking of to let you out such a night +as this?" + +"I've got no mother," said Molly. "Mother and father are both dead. +I've no one but Kathleen." + +"Dear, dear!" returned the man, with a look of pity. "Only to think of +it! Why, I've got a little girl of my own at home, and I wouldn't let +her be out such a night as this, not if the Queen herself was to order +it, that I wouldn't." + +"I shall not get far to-night, I reckon," he said, after a time. "I was +to be at the side door at half-past ten and wait for a gentleman. But I +shall want double fare for driving through this snow, if, indeed, I can +drive through it. There, it's half-past ten already, and the people are +beginning to come out, so I must drive round to the door. You want to +go there too, do you? That's right." + +In spite of the cabman's persuasions, Molly now insisted on getting out +of the cab and standing at the door till her sister appeared. + +There was great confusion and uproar as the people came out of the +theatre. Every one seemed to want a cab, and there were few cabs to be +had, and the drivers of these were in no reasonable mood. So shouting +and quarrelling resounded on all sides. Molly's friend grew impatient +because his "fare" did not come. He was talking of driving away, when +the side door opened and two figures appeared. Molly knew them in a +moment—they were Kathleen and Mr. Vavasour. + +"Kathleen, Kathleen!" she cried, springing forward and seizing her +sister's arm. + +"Molly, I told you not to come," said Kathleen, angrily. + +"Kathleen, I have come to save you," said Molly, earnestly. "You must +not trust this man; he is a bad, wicked man. Oh, Kathleen, come home +with me—come home at once." + +And she tried to pull her sister along. + +But as she spoke, her own arm was roughly grasped. "Hold your tongue!" +hissed out Mr. Vavasour, as with cruel force he separated the sisters. + +Pushing Molly back, he helped Kathleen into the cab, and his foot +was upon the step, when the cabman, seeing that something was wrong, +interposed. + +"Stay a minute, if you please, sir," he said. "I must know the meaning +of this before I take you in my cab." + +"Oh, don't let him take Kathleen away!" cried Molly, in piteous +distress. "He is a bad cruel man. Madame Ganelli says so." + +At the sound of this name, the man's face grew white with rage. + +"Take that, you wretched little hunchback!" he cried, turning upon +Molly in ungovernable fury, and dealing her a severe blow. + +Blinded and stunned by that blow, Molly staggered back, slipped on the +edge of the pavement, and fell into the road directly in front of the +horse. + +With a cry of fear, the cabman sprang forward, but he was too late. The +animal, startled by Molly's fall, reared wildly for an instant, then +plunged onward, trampling beneath his hoofs the child's unconscious +form. + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER XIII. + +NO LONGER DESOLATE. + +ERE the horse had run many yards, it was stopped by a passer-by. + +Kathleen sprang out of the cab, and rushed back to the spot where Molly +lay—a dark little heap on the white snow. + +Mr. Vavasour had disappeared. + +The child neither moved nor moaned when they lifted her from the ground. + +"Oh, she is dead, she is dead!" cried Kathleen, in an agony of grief. +"Oh, Molly, Molly, what shall I do?" + +"No, there is life in her yet," said the cabman. "Don't make a noise, +but help me to get her home. Do you live far from here?" + +"Not far—in Church Lane, close to the Edgware Road," replied Kathleen. + +Already a crowd of persons was beginning to collect on the spot. This +crowd attracted the attention of a tall, strongly-built man, wrapt in +a large overcoat, and wearing a travelling cap drawn down comfortably +over his ears, who was coming along on the opposite side of the +road, carrying a carpet-bag in his hand. Seeing that an accident had +occurred, he hastened across the road to inquire what it might be. + +Something in the appearance of this gentleman made the people give +place to him as he pressed into their midst. + +"Are you a doctor, sir?" asked the cabman, as the stranger bent down to +look at the child, whom he was supporting in his arms. + +"Yes, I am a doctor," he replied. "Let me see the extent of the +mischief. Are there any bones broken, I wonder? Ah, some ribs +displaced, and there may be injury to the spine, I fear. Where are the +child's friends?" + +"Her sister is here, sir," said the cabman, pointing to Kathleen; "the +poor little girl has no one else belonging to her, I believe. It's a +bad business, and the mean scoundrel who was the cause of it all has +taken himself off, I see. The child lives close by, sir. I was thinking +p'raps I could take her home in my cab?" + +"Just so; I will help you. Now, my good girl, stand aside for a moment." + +And, with the aid of this kind stranger, Molly was lifted into the cab +and slowly conveyed through the snow-cumbered streets to the place she +called her home. + +Mrs. Jones, the landlady, was thrown into a flutter of excitement when +she learned what had happened to her little lodger. Her best feelings +came to the fore, and she bustled about, and did all she could to help +in the sad emergency. The gentleman who had accompanied the child home +was surgeon on board a steamship lying in the London Docks on its +return from Australia. He was as kind as he was skilful, and handled +the young sufferer with the utmost tenderness. + +It was impossible, he said, to ascertain at present the full extent +of her injuries. On the morrow he should be able to speak with more +certainty, but it seemed to him a most serious case. When he had done +all he could for poor Molly, he took his departure, promising to come +again early the next morning. + +"What is your name?" he asked Kathleen, as he went out of the room. + +"Kathleen Macardie," she said. + +"And you have neither father nor mother?" + +"No, they are both dead." + +"Macardie! Macardie!" said the surgeon to himself, as he went away. +"Strange that this girl's name should be the same as that of my +pleasant fellow-traveller. What was it that he said about wanting to +find a brother, who had two little girls? Can it be possible that +these children are the same? Surely not. And yet I remember he said +he had been away from England so long that he could scarcely know if +his friends were dead or alive. It's hardly likely to be as I imagine. +But still, if I see him at the hotel to-night, I will tell him of the +coincidence." + +Throughout that night, Kathleen kept watch beside her sister. For many +hours Molly continued in a state of insensibility. + +Once Kathleen fancied she heard Molly murmur her name. But when she +spoke in reply, her fond words awakened no response. + +Unhappy indeed were Kathleen's thoughts as she watched. How she blamed +herself as the cause of what had happened, and with what remorse she +reflected on the unkindness and neglect with which she had treated her +sister! + +Her self-reproach grew keener on the following day, when Madame +Ganelli, alarmed at Molly's non-appearance at the boarding-house, came +to inquire for her. + +The singer listened sorrowfully to Kathleen's account of what had +happened. Then in return, she confided to the girl a story of wrong +and cruelty, which showed the true nature of the man in whom she had +been so ready to trust. Kathleen understood now from what deadly peril +her faithful little sister had saved her. Bitter tears of grief and +shame did she shed as she looked on Molly's pale, sad face, as she lay +unconscious of the love which wept over her. + + +The doctor arrived at an early hour the next morning, and to +Kathleen's surprise, he brought a friend with him. His companion was a +homely-looking man of medium height, and strong, square frame, whose +honest sunburnt face bespoke a kind, true heart. As the stranger +entered the room, Kathleen was reminded of her father, yet why she +could not tell, for this strong, sturdy man was after all very unlike +him. + +But she was too anxious to hear the doctor's opinion of Molly's state +to think twice of the subtle resemblance she had perceived. + +Molly still lay in a stupor, but the doctor's touch aroused her. Her +eyes slowly opened and gazed at him with a look of terror, whilst she +cried out in a sharp tone, full of pain, "Kathleen! Kathleen!" + +"I'm here, Molly, close to your side," said Kathleen. + +"You won't leave me!" cried the child. "You won't go away!" + +"No, Molly, I'll never leave you, 'never!'" said Kathleen, earnestly. + +Molly seemed satisfied, and her eyelids closed again. + +[Illustration: "ARE YOU IN PAIN, MY CHILD?"] + +The doctor bent over his little patient. + +"Are you in pain, my child?" he asked, speaking in clear, distinct +tones. + +Molly opened her eyes and looked at him wonderingly for a moment, then +shut her eyes once more. + +"You speak to her," said the doctor, turning to Kathleen. + +"Do you feel any pain, Molly?" she asked. + +Molly looked up again with a faint smile. "No, no pain," she said +softly. + +"Are you quite comfortable?" + +"Yes, quite comfortable," she answered. + +The doctor proceeded to examine her more closely, handling her with +what Kathleen thought was unnecessary roughness, but not a sound +escaped the child. She seemed unconscious of his touch. + +"It is as I thought," said the surgeon, turning to the stranger. "That +numbness is a bad symptom. The lower limbs are paralysed." + +His companion, who had been gazing intently at the sisters, started at +the doctor's words. "You do not mean," he whispered, "that the case is +hopeless!" + +The doctor nodded his head. "She may linger for days," he said, "but +recovery is impossible." + +The stranger looked shocked at this announcement. After a minute's +silence, he turned and addressed Kathleen. + +"Your name is Macardie, is it not?" + +"Yes, sir, Kathleen Macardie." + +"Ah! I think I heard you had lost both your parents?" + +Kathleen gave a sign of assent. + +"Was your father's name James?" + +"Yes, sir, it was," replied Kathleen, looking her surprise at being +thus questioned. + +"Did you ever hear your father speak of his brother Tom?" + +"Oh yes, sir, often. He said his brother Tom had gone to Australia, and +was making his fortune there." + +"I am that brother Tom, child," said the stranger. + +"You, sir—you? It can't be!" exclaimed Kathleen, in great astonishment. + +"Yes, my dear girl, I am he! I returned to England a week ago, and have +since been trying to discover some trace of my brother's whereabouts. +I should not have guessed you were his children, however, had it +not struck me just now, when hearing you call each other Molly and +Kathleen, that those were the names by which your father spoke of his +two girls in his last letter to me." + +"Then you did get the letter?" said Kathleen. + +"Yes, but it was a year old ere it reached me. I was leading a +wandering life in the bush at that time, and had no settled home, so +the letter went from one place to another, till at last it fell into +my hands. I wrote in reply to the address which your father gave, and +enclosed some bank-notes, but I suppose my letter never reached your +father, as he had probably left that place long before." + +"He never got the letter; I am sure of that," said Kathleen. + +"I thought not, for I heard nothing more of him, though I wrote several +times. How long is it since your father died?" + +"Nearly a year," replied Kathleen. + +"And who has taken care of you? How have you lived since then?" + +"There's been no one to take care of us," she said; "we've taken care +of ourselves." + +Her uncle glanced round the cheerless attic, and his eyes filled with +tears as he thought of the hardships these children must have had to +endure in their lonely, friendless life. + +"I will take care of you in future, Kathleen," he said. "Let us thank +God that He has watched over you in your loneliness, and now guided me +to you." + +Kathleen's eyes drooped. Tears were glistening on their long, dark +lashes. She had indeed cause for thankfulness, but she could not help +the thought, "Oh! If only uncle had come sooner!" + +"How glad Molly will be!" she said at last. + +But her uncle knew that Molly would not long need his care. Her work +was done. Nobly had she kept her promise to her father, and striven to +guard Kathleen from harm. + +Now the Good Shepherd, who had all along cared for this lone lamb, was +coming to gather her in His arms, and take her to rest in His heavenly +fold. + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER XIV. + +A WILLING SACRIFICE. + +ON the next day, Molly awoke from the stupor in which she had lain for +so many hours. Her mind was clear and calm. She could not recall all +that had happened, but she knew that she was very ill, and she seemed +to know also that she could not get well. + +"I shall go away as father did," she said, confidently. + +And Kathleen's hopeful words could not persuade her otherwise. When +told of her uncle's coming, she took the news very quietly. + +"Jesus has sent him to take care of us," she said gently, with a glad +light in her deep, dark eyes. + +Her uncle would have liked to remove the little sufferer to more +comfortable quarters, but the doctor declared that to be impossible. In +the little attic where she had toiled and sorrowed, her young spirit +was to gain its release from toil and woe. + +"Molly, dear," her uncle said to her, during the course of that day, +most of which he spent by her bedside, "tell me what more I can do for +you. Is there nothing you wish?" + +"Only one thing," answered little Molly, "and I don't know whether +you can do it, but if it could be managed, I should so like to see my +minister again." + +"We will see," said her uncle, who had heard Molly speak of the +minister to whose words she had loved to listen; "I'll try to find out +where he lives, and ask him to come to you." + +"Oh, thank you!" cried Molly, and her face beamed with joy. + +"Kathleen," she said to her sister, when their uncle had gone out; +"Kathleen, I feel so happy about the future." + +"Do you, Molly?" said Kathleen, with a look of wonder. + +"I see it all so plain," said the child; "nothing could be better. +Uncle has been talking to me. He says he has plenty of money, and he +will always take care of you. And he will have you taught all the +things you ought to learn; you'll be quite a lady, Kathleen, just what +you wished, you know." + +"I don't wish it now," said Kathleen; "I only want to see you get well." + +"I shall never get well," said little Molly; "I asked uncle, and he +said Jesus would come and take me to Himself. And I'm so glad to go, +Kathleen. It's so much better, you see. I'm such an ugly, crooked +child. I should never be anything but poor little Molly. A little +hunchback, some one called me—who was it said so? Oh, it's so much +better I should go away. I shan't be a little hunchback then." + +"Oh, Molly, I cannot bear it!" sobbed Kathleen, in bitter anguish. +"I cannot bear to lose you thus. It is all my fault. But for my +unkindness, my 'wickedness,' you might be well now. You have given your +life to save me from harm." + +"Jesus gave His life for us all," the child murmured; "He died to save +us. I did not believe it once. I thought it was only a made-up story. +But it's all real true. I know it now. It's all real true. Kathleen, +you 'will' believe in Jesus now, won't you?" + +"Oh, Molly," Kathleen confessed, "I might have believed before, but I +did not 'want' to." + +"But you will now," urged her sister; "you'll let Jesus be your Friend?" + +"If He will," replied Kathleen; "but I'm so wicked. It would serve me +right if He would have nothing to do with me." + +"But He loves you," said Molly, "and He will make you good." + +She was so weak that it tired her to talk long. She said no more now, +but lay still, holding Kathleen's hand tightly in her tiny wasted +fingers. + +Kathleen sat by her side, shedding bitter tears as she mused over the +past. Sad and solemn were her thoughts in that quiet hour. Presently +she heard a tap at the door. Kathleen rose and opened the door, and +after a whispered talk with some one outside, came back to her sister. + +"It is Ned Jones, Molly," she said; "he does so want to see you. Could +you bear to speak to him for one minute?" + +"Oh yes, let him come in," said Molly; "I should like to see Ned." + +Ned came in with a sad, subdued look. + +"Poor little Molly," he said, as he took her tiny hand into his large, +brown palm, and gently patted it, "poor little Molly! I'm so sorry to +see you thus." + +"Don't be sorry for me," she answered; "I'm happy, Ned. Jesus makes me +happy. It's all real true about Him. You must never say again that it +is only a make-believe." + +"I never will," Nod replied, earnestly. + +"Jesus will make you happy, Ned, if you will let Him," she said; "He +loves you, Ned; oh, won't you love Him too?" + +"I will try," he murmured. And then, strong manly fellow that he was, +he burst into tears, and Kathleen was obliged to hurry him from the +room, lest the sight of his emotion should distress Molly. + +But the child lay back on her pillow with a happy smile upon her face, +and did not seem the worse for Ned's visit. + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER XV. + +MOLLY'S DIFFICULTIES COME TO AN END. + +AFTER some difficulty, Molly's uncle succeeded in finding the minister, +who readily consented to come at once to see the child. He listened +with sorrow to the story of the trouble Molly had known since he had +lost sight of her, and the sad way in which her little life was ending. + +But he believed that God would bring gain out of loss, and crown that +blighted childhood with everlasting joy. + +The day was near its close, and it was almost dark when Mr. Macardie +and the minister climbed the steep stair to the attic. + +Molly had grown much weaker during the last hour. Her strength was +going rapidly, but her mind was still unclouded. + +She recognised her minister as he entered the room, and stretched out +her little hand to him with a smile of welcome. + +"I'm so glad you've come," she said, softly; and then turning to her +sister, she added, "bring the candle nearer, please; I want to see my +minister quite plain." + +Kathleen brought the light and held it, whilst Molly gazed with love +and confidence at the kind face which looked on her with tenderest +sympathy. + +"It is all right, is it not, Molly?" asked the minister. "Jesus is with +you." + +"Yes!" she murmured, faintly, her lips parting with a smile. "Jesus is +with me!" + +In a few simple words he spoke to her of the loving Saviour, and of the +happy home to which his own darling child had gone, and into which she, +too, would soon be gathered. + +Molly seemed to understand what he said. The happy look lingered on her +face. + +"It's all real true!" she whispered once. "All real true!" + +Then the minister knelt by her bedside, and commended the dying child +to the care of the Good Shepherd. + +As he prayed, Molly fell into a doze, from which she did not rouse +whilst he remained there. + +As he went out of the house, the minister met Madame Ganelli, who was +coming to see her little friend. + +Giving him a quick, observant glance, she said, "You are little Molly's +minister, are you not, sir?" + +"Yes," he replied, looking at her with surprise; "I am little Molly's +minister." + +"Oh, poor little Molly!" cried the singer, in a broken voice. "Is it +not a dreadful thing? My heart aches for the child. To think that she +should be sacrificed to a man's cruel rage!" + +"Do not grieve for her," said the minister, gently. "Sad though her +case seems, it is well with the child." + +"I know it! I know it!" cried the lady, bursting into tears. "She is so +good! Oh! I cannot tell you what I owe to little Molly! That child has +been my salvation!" + +"How so?" he asked. + +"To explain that, I should have to tell you a sad story," said Madame +Ganelli, stepping within the shelter of the doorway, and giving a +searching look into the minister's face. + +The look seemed to encourage her, for she added, "The story is too long +and too sad to be told now and here, but I think I should like to tell +it to you some time, if you would let me. I have long wished to open my +heart to some one, and it seems to me that you are the person to help +me." + +"Indeed! I shall be glad to receive your confidence, and to give you +all the help in my power," replied the minister, his voice full of +sympathy. "Could you come with me, now, to the mission hall? It is but +a few steps from here, and we could talk quietly there." + +Madame Ganelli hesitated for a moment. She felt half frightened at +being so promptly taken at her word. + +"Just as you like," he said; "if you would prefer speaking to me at +another time—" + +"No, no," she responded, quickly; "there is no good in delay. I will +come with you at once, as you kindly ask me." + +In a few minutes, they were at the mission hall. The gas was lighted +within, and a woman was moving about arranging the benches for the +service an hour later. At a word from the minister, she retired. + +"Now," said he, as he gave the lady a chair, "what is it you have to +tell me? Do not be afraid to speak freely, as to a friend." + +"I believe I shall find you a friend," she replied, "and will therefore +hide nothing from you. You will be surprised to hear that the wicked +man who brought this trouble upon Molly is my husband." + +"What!" cried the minister, with a look of astonishment. "Your husband! +Is your name Vavasour, then?" + +"No; nor is his. That is merely a name assumed to serve the purpose of +his profession. For a similar reason, I have called myself Ganelli. My +real name is Sherwin—Catherine Sherwin. I am no foreigner, but was born +and brought up in a pretty country place in Berkshire. My parents were +good Christian folk. + +"My father was postmaster of the little town where we lived. He had to +work very hard, but his leisure was devoted to doing good. On Sunday +afternoons, no matter what the weather might be, he would walk several +miles in order to hold a cottage-meeting in an out-of-the-way place, +where there was no church for the poor people to attend. In our home, +we always had family prayers, night and morning. I can remember my +father's prayers now." + +Here Madame Ganelli's voice trembled with emotion, and she was obliged +to pause for a while. + +"I was my parents' only child," she went on presently, "and they +lavished on me all the love of their hearts. But I wounded their +love and disappointed their hopes. They were determined to give me a +good education, and that I might have unusual advantages, sent me to +a superior boarding-school, from which I returned accomplished and +polished, but vain and frivolous in character. I had learned that I +was beautiful, also that I possessed a remarkably fine voice. A vain +ambition awoke within me, and longing to display my gifts, I was no +longer satisfied to share my parents' humdrum life. + +"I yearned to distinguish myself in a larger world, never doubting that +my beauty and accomplishments would win me the happiness I craved. + +"My parents saw the mistake which they in their love had made. Vainly +they strove to arouse in me higher aspirations. My father pleaded +with me to give my heart to the Saviour, but I would not heed his +words. I did not want to be religious. I wanted to be gay and clever +and admired. My foolish vanity was fed from time to time by words of +admiration from friends outside my home. My voice was heard and admired +as I sang in our church, and the rector came himself to ask me to join +the choir. This I was easily persuaded to do, and from that time, the +very praises of God's house were a snare to me. + +"Strangers inquired who was the lovely girl who sang so sweetly, and +compared my voice to that of their favourite opera-singer. + +"Their words came to my ears, and gave a definite form to my ambitious +longings. + +"I was eager to go to London and be trained for a public singer. Oh, +what a life, I thought, mine would then be! I pictured myself a famous +singer, with crowds flocking to hear me whenever I sang in public. + +"How delightful to stand upon a glittering stage, and hear the hall +ring with applause of my song, whilst bouquets were tossed at my feet, +and I was flattered and admired as a queen! + +"With such visions did I delude myself, never dreaming of the +heart-ache and disappointment, the sin and misery, which such a career +too often involves. + +"I did not mention my wishes to my parents. I knew that they would +never consent to my leaving home, and devoting myself to such a +profession. But the thought was seldom out of my mind. I dwelt upon it +till selfish ambition stifled all sense of filial love and duty, so +that when temptation came, my will yielded a ready consent. + +"That summer there came to our neighbourhood a fine gentleman, an +actor from one of the London theatres. He had come into the country to +recruit his health, and during his idle hours, I attracted his notice, +and was soon flattered by his constant attention. He was a handsome +man, and my vanity was easily beguiled by his winning manner. Ere my +parents even knew that I had made his acquaintance, I had confided to +him my ambitious dreams, in response to his lavish praise of my voice +and my appearance. He gladdened my ears with repeated assurances of +success, and took advantage of my weakness by urging me to marry him +without my parents' consent. If I became his wife, he promised me the +training I required to fit me for a public career. In glowing terms, he +described to me the grand future thus open to me. I listened, and in +my folly believed all. I fancied that I loved this man, of whom I knew +scarce anything, fancied that with him I should find a happiness that +would compensate me for the loss of my old home and my parents' love. + +"But I did not yield to his persuasions without a struggle. It cost me +many a pang to think of leaving, without even a word of farewell, the +father and mother who loved me so dearly. But with artful words, he +made light of my scruples. It was only for a time, he said. I should +soon return to see my parents, and how pleased and proud they would be +when I won for them fame and distinction. So I took the irrevocable +step. In the darkness of night, I stole away from my home accompanied +by this man. We were married the next morning in London, and at once +started for the Continent." + +Here Madame Ganelli made a pause. The minister said not a word, but +waited till she could recover herself and continue her narrative. + +"I never saw my father and mother again," she said at last. "Before I +had been long married, I learned the true nature of my husband, and saw +what a fatal mistake I had made. + +"We settled in lodgings in Paris, and there my musical education began. +My husband spared no pains in procuring me the best instruction. He had +set his heart, for his own sake, on my success. + +"I worked hard with a kind of desperate diligence, trying to kill by +industry the sore pain of remorse. For a time my husband treated me +with tolerable kindness. But as months rolled on, and my spirit grew +more and more despondent, he wearied of me, and often left me alone for +weeks at a time in my dull lodging. + +"I heard nothing of my parents all this while. My husband would not +allow me to write to them. I should see them, he promised, when we +returned to England. He had entered on a long engagement at one of +the Paris theatres, and did not propose returning to London till the +following year. + +"Ere that time arrived, I became the mother of a beautiful boy. Oh, how +I loved my precious babe! He was the sole joy of my life. I used to +picture to myself the day when, carrying him in my arms, I would make +my way back to my old home, and falling at my mother's feet beseech her +to forgive me, if not for my own sake for that of the child. + +"But it was not to be. + +"My musical studies compelled me to consign my babe to the care of +another for the greater part of each day. This was a great trial to me. +I grudged every hour passed away from my boy, and was always anxious +lest harm should come to him in my absence. He was a small and delicate +child, and did not thrive as I could wish. + +"At last, the time came when my husband was free to take me to London, +there to make my 'début' as a singer. + +"Ah! What hopes and fears contended within my soul when I landed on +the English shore! Not from anxiety for professional success; I had +ceased to care much about that. But I hoped to see again the faces of +my father and mother, and to hear them say that they forgave me. + +"But this hope was soon slain. + +"At the hotel, where we were to rest that night, I chanced to take up +a newspaper. My eye glanced over the list of deaths. Suddenly my heart +stood still, and a numbness took possession of my frame. For there in +that line was my mother's name! Then I knew that my wicked conduct had +broken her heart." + + * * * * + +"I scarcely know how I lived after that. I was like one in a dream, +save when I had my baby in my arms, and was comforted by the touch of +his tiny hand smoothing my cheek or playing with my hair. + +"I began to sing in public, but my singing was not the success my +husband had hoped it would prove. It was good in its way, but it lacked +inspiration. I won my fair meed of praise, but gave no promise of +rising above mediocrity in the ranks of singers. + +"My husband was furious at what he termed my failure. But in vain, he +stormed and threatened. I could do no better. + +"At last there came a day I shall never forget. My beautiful boy was +suddenly taken ill. All day he lay on my lap, his little body racked by +convulsions, which threatened death at every moment. + +"I was engaged to sing in an opera that night, and my husband had set +his heart on my making a sensation. I implored him to find some one to +take my place, and get me excused, but he would not listen to me. + +"The child would be all right, he declared, and I must and I should +sing. With cruel force, he took me from my child, as he lay panting and +struggling, a sight to rend a mother's heart, and carried me off to the +theatre at which I was to sing. + +"I sang that night as I had never sung before. Tortured with anxiety, +trembling from excitement, I stood upon the stage. My song was a wild +lament, and I poured out in its swelling notes all the anguish of +my soul. It was with no feigned misery that my voice quivered, and +the reality of my emotion penetrated to the hearts of my audience, +thrilling them in response. As my song died away, a thunder of applause +greeted my ears. The building re-echoed with the sound of my triumph. A +bouquet fell at my feet. + +"As in a dream, I heard the shouts and clapping; through a haze of +tears I saw the admiring glances cast upon me; then bowing low, I +retired. Thus were my girlish dreams realized. Did any one envy me that +night, I wonder?" + +The speaker's voice again failed her. Tears would have their way, and +some minutes passed ere she could go on with her story. + +"I cannot dwell upon the events of that night," she said, speaking with +forced calmness. "When I reached home, my boy was dead. They told me +that for an hour before he passed away, he kept calling for me in baby +words. + +"I must pass over the anguish of that time. It almost killed me. I was +ill—very ill—for weeks. + +"When I recovered, I was an altered being. My beauty was gone, and with +it all hope of shining as a star in the musical world. + +"My voice had lost its power. I could no longer command the rich, full +notes which had won me admiration. Even if my voice regained strength, +as a physician declared that in time it would, it was but too evident +that I should never be more than a second-rate singer. + +"My husband did not attempt to conceal his mortification at this issue. +He no longer made any show of affection for me, but treated me with the +utmost cruelty. + +"Before I had fully recovered from the effects of my long illness, he +basely deserted me, leaving me to struggle through life as best I could +alone. I believe he went to the Continent, but I did not try to recall +him, though I might easily have traced him through his connection with +the theatres. + +"The first thing I did in my freedom was to journey to my native place, +in the hope of finding my father there. But again I was too late, and +reached my old home only to learn that my father had died a few weeks +earlier. + +"Heart-broken, I returned to London. + +"I took lodgings in a quiet suburb, and found employment in giving +singing lessons. I called myself Ganelli; and when people questioned me +as to my history, I said that I was the widow of a foreigner. + +"But I could not long endure the quietude and monotony of this life. +Painful thoughts tortured me, and I hoped to escape them by resuming my +old profession. My voice was now stronger, and I could sing in public +again. + +"So I once more appeared in concert-rooms and halls, and sang with some +measure of success. + +"But no happiness came to me. Sorrow and remorse were ever working at +my heart, though no one would have guessed it who heard me sing. The +songs I chose were generally of a lively character. I could not bear to +sing a melancholy strain; grief was too real a thing for me. + +"Sacred music also I avoided. I felt myself too great a sinner to take +holy words upon my lips. + +"However, one day, contrary to my usual habit, to oblige a friend, I +agreed to take part in an oratorio. In preparation for the concert, I +was one morning practising the sublime words, 'I know that my Redeemer +liveth,' when suddenly little Molly burst into my room, and eagerly +asked me to tell her how I was so sure that the Redeemer lived. + +"The child was employed to clean boots at the boarding-house in which +I lived, but I had not seen her before. I was greatly startled by her +sudden appearance and the strange question she put. I would fain have +checked her eager words, but her anxiety was so real and earnest that +I felt bound to assure her of the truth, which I could never doubt. +Unhappy though I was, I believed that there was a God and a Saviour. +I told the child that what she had heard of the Lord Jesus was indeed +true, and she left my room with hope sparkling in her eyes. Then I +bowed my head and wept, because there was hope for that poor child, but +no hope for me. + +"After this, I took great interest in little Molly. I felt anxious to +befriend her, but ere long personal anxiety drove her from my thoughts. +I had learned some time before that my husband had returned to London, +and was acting at the S— Theatre. I did my best to avoid meeting him, +and for a time was successful. But it was impossible for me, in the +public life I led, to long escape his notice. One evening, when I left +the hall at which I had been singing, I found him waiting for me at the +door. + +"A stormy interview ensued. He urged me to return to him, but I, +remembering his past cruelty, and believing that he only wished me to +return that he might profit by my earnings, refused to listen to him. + +"Then he threatened me, but hoping that the law would protect me from +his malice, I dared him to do his worst. + +"At last, seeing that I was not to be moved, he left me; but from that +day, he lost no opportunity of annoying me. He vented his spite upon me +in a thousand ways too petty to describe, yet sufficiently vexatious. + +"I bore it as well as I could. But what words can describe my +consternation when I learned from poor little Molly that the man who +had ruined the happiness of my life was calling himself her sister's +friend, and deceiving the poor girl into such a belief in his good-will +that she was ready to trust her future to him. + +"Oh, what I suffered as I thought of Kathleen's peril! I felt I must +save her, yet was powerless to do anything. I could only solemnly warn +little Molly of the man's true nature, and entreat her to save her +sister. + +"But though I could not help them, I knew there was One who could. For +years I had not dared to pray for myself, but now I prayed for those +poor children as I had never prayed before." + +"And your prayer was answered," said the minister, as she paused. + +"It was answered in a sad way," she returned. + +"Sad to our human short-sightedness," said the minister. "But God's +ways are not as our ways. We can trust little Molly in His loving +hands." + +Madame Ganelli was silent. + +"Is this all you have to tell me, my sister?" asked the minister, +presently. + +"I have told you all my story," the singer replied. + +"But have you nothing to say of yourself? After you had prayed for +these poor girls, could you not bring your own case before the Lord?" + +"I tried to do so," she said, tears springing anew to her eyes. "I +remembered some words little Molly had said to me. She told me that +Jesus loved me better than even my mother had loved me; and I knew that +bad though I was, my mother had never ceased to love me, and that if I +could have gained her side ere she passed away, she would have received +me without a word of reproach, and have given me a full and free +forgiveness. Is it true? Does the Lord love us like that?" + +"Ay, it is true," he answered. "Your life has been hard and bitter, but +it was not the Lord's will that it should be thus. You have tasted the +fruit of your own wrong-doing. He would have saved you from misery, +but you would not let Him. The strokes with which He has smitten you +have been dealt in love. Now, if you will turn to Him, and seek His +forgiveness, He will soothe your heart's sorrows and give you peace, as +a mother would comfort her child who ran to her to heal the smarting +pain resulting from some act of wilfulness. Do not fear to trust His +love." + +The singer's face brightened. + +"I shall not forget your words," she said, as she rose to go; "they +give me hope. You are indeed a friend." + +"The servant of a better Friend," he replied. "To Him I commend you. He +can meet all your need." + + +From the mission hall, Madame Ganelli hastened to Molly's bedside. + +The child still lay in a doze, but signs of the approach of death +were becoming more and more visible to the eyes of the watchers. They +thought she would pass away in her sleep, but presently she moved, +opened her eyes, and looked up in bewilderment. + +Her face was darkened with a look of distress. "Don't leave me, +Kathleen," she cried, pitifully; "don't leave your poor little Molly! +What will become of me if you go away?" + +"I will never leave you," Kathleen told her, in a broken voice. "Oh, +Molly dear, I would not go away from you now for the world!" + +At the sound of her words, Molly's bewilderment ceased. Her brow +cleared, and she looked at her sister with a smile. + +"Oh no, I forgot," she said, faintly; "it is not you, but I, little +Molly, who am going away. And I'm glad to go." + +She smiled, as with one hand she clasped her uncle's, and with the +other Kathleen's hand in token of farewell. Then she caught sight of +Madame Ganelli, and greeted her, too, with a smile. + +The smile died away, and she looked into the singer's face with an +anxious, questioning glance, as if she would fain ask something, but +had no words. + +Madame Ganelli thought she understood that look. "Molly," she said, +bending down close to her and speaking very distinctly, "Molly, I can +say it now from my heart, I 'know' that 'my' Redeemer liveth." + +Molly understood the words. A gleam of joy lit up her tiny white face, +as half raising herself in bed she cried in clear, ringing tones, "I +know, I know! Jesus lives! It's all real true." + +They were the last words she spoke. She sank back, and her eyes closed. +A happy, peaceful expression settled on her face, and remained there. +The breath came slowly and quietly through her parted lips. Soon no +sound broke the stillness of the room, for little Molly was away. + +Doubts and difficulties would vex her spirit no more, toil and want +were for ever past. Out of the darkness of this lower world God had +taken her into the perfect light beyond, and the child was in the +presence of the Saviour whom on earth she had yearned to know. + + + + THE END. + + + + ———————————————————————————————— + London: Pardon and Sons, Printers. Paternoster Row. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79227 *** diff --git a/79227-h/79227-h.htm b/79227-h/79227-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0c1fb5a --- /dev/null +++ b/79227-h/79227-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4283 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + "It's All Real True" │ Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/image001.jpg" type="image/cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size:12.0pt; + font-family:"Verdana"; +} + +p {text-indent: 2em;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +h2 {font-size: 1.17em;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +/* Images */ + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} + +.w100 { + width: auto + } + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +p.t1 {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 125%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t2 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t3 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t3b { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 100%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center + } + +p.t4 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center + } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.thought {text-indent: 0% ; + letter-spacing: 5em ; + text-align: center } + + </style> +</head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79227 ***</div> + + +<p>Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image001" style="max-width: 33.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image001.jpg" alt="image001"> +</figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image002" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image002.jpg" alt="image002"> +</figure> +<p class="t4"> +<b>MOLLY IN THE CHEMIST'S SHOP.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image003" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image003.jpg" alt="image003"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h1>"IT'S ALL REAL TRUE."</h1> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t1"> +<b><em>The Story of a Child's Difficulties.</em></b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +BY<br> +</p> + +<p class="t1"> +EGLANTON THORNE<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image004" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image004.jpg" alt="image004"></figure> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> +LONDON:<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +56, PATERNOSTER Row; 65, ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD;<br> +AND 164 PICCADILLY.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b"> +CONTENTS.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>CHAPTER.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_1">I. MOLLY AND KATHLEEN</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_2">II. A SAD FAREWELL</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_3">III. TWO LONELY GIRLS</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_4">IV. THE THEATRE AND THE MISSION HALL</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_5">V. MOLLY GAINS A TREASURE</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_6">VI. DOUBT AND DISAPPOINTMENT</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_7">VII. A STRANGE QUESTION</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_8">VIII. MOLLY HAS A TALK WITH HER MINISTER</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_9">IX. THE REST OF FAITH</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_10">X. KATHLEEN IS A SOURCE OF GRAVE ANXIETY</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_11">XI. A SISTER'S DANGER</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_12">XII. KATHLEEN IS SAVED</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_13">XIII. NO LONGER DESOLATE</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_14">XIV. A WILLING SACRIFICE</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_15">XV. MOLLY'S DIFFICULTIES COME TO AN END</a></p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image005" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image005.jpg" alt="image005"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t2"> +<b>"IT'S ALL REAL TRUE."</b><br> +</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image006" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image006.jpg" alt="image006"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_1">CHAPTER I.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>MOLLY AND KATHLEEN.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>NIGHT was falling on the city of London, a night of wind and +rain, following a day of clouds and gloom. The rain was sharp and +penetrating, and the wind piercingly cold.</p> + +<p>No one would readily choose to walk abroad on such a night. Walking, +indeed, was no easy matter, for the pavements were wet and slippery, +and on the roads the horses could with difficulty be driven over the +mud. Yet, despite the cold and wet, wherever there were shops, the +streets were filled with people, for it was Saturday evening, and many +poor folk were unable to do their marketing for the morrow until this +late hour.</p> + +<p>Along the Edgware Road, stalls had been placed beside the pavements, +and shrill-voiced costermongers were doing a brisk trade in more or +less tempting edibles, whilst more particular purchasers hurried to the +shops on either side the way. Into this thoroughfare, from one of the +narrower streets opening on to it, came a little girl. She walked with +rapid, certain step, and appeared in no way dismayed by the noise and +bustle around her.</p> + +<p>Threading her way through the crowd gathered on the pavement, she +darted on to the road, and nimbly dodging the numerous vehicles, soon +gained the other side, and entered a chemist's shop there. The shop +was small and already full of customers, so the child, being tiny and +insignificant, had to stand in a corner and wait patiently till the +chemist had leisure to attend to her. She was a strange-looking child, +so small that no one would have taken her to be nearly eleven years +old, had not her pale, thin face worn a look of care, far older than +her age. Her figure was deformed, as well as stunted, for one shoulder +rose higher than the other, and the hump below was scarcely hidden by +the shabby cloak she wore.</p> + +<p>The child shivered as she stood in the warm, bright shop, and tried +to shake the wet from her frock, which was of far too frail a texture +for that damp night. Then she pushed back the thick, wet locks of +reddish-brown hair that were falling over her forehead, and longing for +her turn to come, watched with shrewd glances of her dark, deep-set +eyes, the movements of the chemist, as with wonderful quickness he +supplied, one after another, the wants of his customers.</p> + +<p>Her patience was sorely tried. No sooner did one person leave the shop +than another entered, and it seemed impossible for her to get near +the counter. Even when she did push her way to it, she was still kept +waiting, for she was but a child, and what did it matter whether a +child were kept waiting a few minutes more or less? But at last her +turn came.</p> + +<p>"Well, Molly," said the chemist, sharply, but not unkindly, "what is it +you want?"</p> + +<p>"Some more cough-mixture for father," she answered, hastily producing a +bottle from beneath her cloak, "and, oh! 'please,' sir, will you give +me something different this time? That other stuff didn't do father no +good. His cough is worse than ever."</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear! That's bad," said the chemist, as he took the bottle from +the child's hand, "and it's ill weather for coughs. However, I'll see +what I can do."</p> + +<p>Molly watched him eagerly as he proceeded to prepare the medicine. She +wondered how he knew which drug to take from so many, but he seemed to +experience no difficulty in selecting. And in a very few minutes, the +bottle was again in the child's hand.</p> + +<p>"Do you think this will make father quite better?" asked Molly, as she +stood on tip-toe to place her shilling on the counter.</p> + +<p>"I hope so," he replied, looking compassionately at the child, for he +had not the heart to tell her that he believed her father's cough to be +beyond his power to cure. "I hope so, my dear, but not if he goes out +this weather, you know."</p> + +<p>"But he 'must' go out; he cannot stay at home," said Molly, +sorrowfully. "He has his work to do, and if he did not work, he would +get no money to pay the rent."</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear! That's bad," said the chemist again. "But try to get him +to stay in for a few days, whilst this rough weather lasts. And give +him a dose of medicine to-night and another to-morrow morning, and +we'll see what that does for him."</p> + +<p>In a moment Molly was out of the shop, and running across the road soon +reached her home in a narrow gloomy street, not far distant.</p> + +<p>Passing into the house, she climbed a steep, and not too clean, +staircase, and entered a back room on the second floor.</p> + +<p>It was a long, narrow room, with low ceiling and dingy walls. A slight +partition divided it at the farther end, and the space thus enclosed, +though hardly larger than a cupboard, made a little bedroom for Molly +and her sister Kathleen.</p> + +<p>The place was in darkness when Molly entered, save for the faint, +flickering light of the feeble fire which burned in the grate. Its +light, however, sufficed to reveal the form of a tall, thin man, with +stooping shoulders and narrow, contracted chest, who bent shivering +over the fire, vainly trying to warm himself by its fitful glow.</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Molly?" he asked, in a hollow voice, as the child opened +the door.</p> + +<p>"Yes, father, it's me," she said, "and I've got some new mixture for +you, some stuff that Mr. Turner thinks is sure to make you well."</p> + +<p>For thus had Molly's hope interpreted the chemist's few words.</p> + +<p>But her father seemed to have little faith in the power of the medicine.</p> + +<p>He sighed wearily, then exclaimed, in a fretful tone, "It's little good +the mixture is likely to do me, Molly, if you leave that door open, +with such a draught coming up the stairs as will give me my death of +cold."</p> + +<p>Molly closed the door in a moment.</p> + +<p>"There's no chance of my cough leaving me whilst this bitter weather +lasts," continued her father, "but when the spring comes—yes, when the +warm days begin, I may hope to get well. But it is a long while to +wait."</p> + +<p>"Yes, there'll be a long time first," said Molly, sadly, as standing by +the fire she tried to stir the fading embers into a blaze.</p> + +<p>"Put on some more coal, child!" exclaimed her father, peevishly. "I'm +almost perished with cold. You ought to have made up the fire before +you went out. And pray light a candle; I hate to sit in darkness."</p> + +<p>"There's very little coal left," said Molly, as, having found a piece +of candle and lighted it, she proceeded to place a few tiny knobs of +coal on the fire, touching them very tenderly in her consciousness +of their value. "I want to make it last over to-morrow. Perhaps the +manager will pay Kathleen to-night, and then we can buy some more."</p> + +<p>"To think I should live to depend on my darling's earnings!" sighed +her father. "Oh, dear! What will become of us? I've earned scarcely +anything this week; and next week will be worse, I fear. Molly, the +master told me to-day that he saw I was not fit for my work, and he +thought I had better keep at home till I was better. And he was right, +for indeed I could not make fair work of it to-day. I turned faint, and +was obliged to lay down my tools and rest for a while."</p> + +<p>"Never mind, father," said little Molly, soothingly, though the anxious +look on her face deepened; "you'll be better in a few days, I daresay, +and able to go to work again."</p> + +<p>Her words were interrupted by her father's violent cough. Molly watched +him fearfully as he struggled for breath.</p> + +<p>"You must take some of this stuff at once," she said.</p> + +<p>And fetching a cup from the cupboard, she poured out a dose of medicine +and held it to his lips.</p> + +<p>He drank it, and soon ceased to cough. "You are a good child, Molly," +he said; "you remind me of your mother, for you've got her ways +somehow, though you're not a bit like her in the face. Kathleen is +more like her. Ah! My pretty Kathleen! To think she should dance at a +theatre for the sake of earning a few shillings! But what could I do? +The child wanted to earn money, and it seemed the easiest way."</p> + +<p>"Don't you trouble about it, father," said Molly; "Kathleen does not +mind it; she says she likes the fun."</p> + +<p>"That only makes it worse," he answered, sharply; "it's not the right +sort of life for a girl to lead. But you don't understand; how should +you, you poor little thing? You don't know what a bad world it is. But +you'll find it out one day, Molly. You'll see that it's a bad, cruel +world, where no one is to be trusted, and you must fight your own way, +for there's no one to help you or care for you."</p> + +<p>He spoke in a tone of despair.</p> + +<p>Molly's sad face grew sadder as she listened.</p> + +<p>"I've had a hard struggle," continued James Macardie, taking a +sorrowful review of his past history; "and I've always been the most +unlucky fellow in the world. Everything has been against me—yes, +everything. I've never had any of the happy chances which fall to some +men's lot; such luck as my brother Tom had, for instance. There is he, +now making his fortune in Australia, I'll be bound, whilst I—see what +I am! No one to look at me would think that my father was a well-to-do +cabinet maker at Liverpool."</p> + +<p>"Does your brother Tom know how poor you are?" asked his little +daughter.</p> + +<p>"No, he knows nothing about me. We had words together before he went +abroad. He interfered with me in a way I could not stand, and I would +have nothing more to say to him. He wrote to me once or twice after he +reached Australia, but I took no notice of his letters. I was sorry for +it afterwards, and wrote to him several times asking him to overlook +the past, but it was of no use. My letters were never answered."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he never got them," said Molly.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not. I can't tell how it was, but I was sorry, for I thought +he might do something for Kathleen, if he did not care to help me +again. Poor Kathleen! Dancing at a theatre! Oh! I thought to bring her +up so differently! I meant to give her a good education and make a lady +of her. I was so proud of my pretty Kathleen, with her quick, bright +ways and roguish tricks."</p> + +<p>These plaintive utterances were succeeded by another fit of coughing, +and thoroughly exhausted, he was obliged to lean back in his chair and +keep silence.</p> + +<p>It was growing late. Molly spread a cloth on the table, and placed +thereon part of a loaf of bread, and a piece of hard, dry cheese. Then +she sat down quietly by her father's side, regarding him with sorrowful +glances, for she thought she had never seen him so ill as he seemed +to-night. She was frightened therefore when he suddenly roused from the +doze into which he had fallen, and glancing at the old Dutch clock in +the corner, got up from his chair, crossed the room with feeble steps +and took down the coat and hat which hung behind the door.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Father!" she exclaimed. "You will not think of going out again +this night! Indeed you are not fit."</p> + +<p>"You forget that Kathleen must be fetched from the theatre," he +answered, hoarsely, as with trembling hands he put on his coat. "I +would not have her come home alone through the streets for the world. +I will take care of her whilst I can, my poor Kathleen. I ought never +to have consented to her going to that place, but I will do my best to +shield her from its dangers."</p> + +<p>Molly said no more, for she knew it would be useless. Her face wore a +look of fear, as candle in hand she stood at the top of the stairs to +light her father, as grasping the rickety balusters for support, he +went down.</p> + +<p>She listened to the sound of his footsteps after he had passed out of +her sight. They seemed to grow fainter and fainter, till suddenly the +sound ceased, though she knew her father could not yet have left the +house. Molly rushed down-stairs in a moment. Below she saw her father, +overcome by sudden faintness, clinging for support to the open house +door, while the cold damp air beat upon him.</p> + +<p>"Father, come in," cried Molly; "you are ill, you cannot go!"</p> + +<p>"No, I must give it up," he murmured; "I cannot go, I have no strength. +But oh! Kathleen!"</p> + +<p>"Never mind about Kathleen, father," said Molly, as she helped him up +the stairs. "I will go and meet her, and tell her how ill you are."</p> + +<p>"You go, child! How can you take care of Kathleen? You need taking care +of yourself, you poor little thing!"</p> + +<p>"But, father, I'm not like Kathleen, you know. I can go out alone in +the evening, and no one takes any notice of me. I should be company for +her."</p> + +<p>"That's true," said her father, as he sunk weariedly into his chair; +"no one will notice a child like you. You may go, Molly. Make all the +haste you can, and tell Kathleen to come home quickly by the quietest +streets."</p> + +<p>Molly lingered for a few minutes, not liking to leave her father in +such a weak state. But he was impatient for her to be off, and would +not let her stay.</p> + +<p>So out into the cold, wet streets again went Molly. The strong wind +drove against her, and the pitiless rain drenched her light garments, +but she struggled bravely on, and soon reached the theatre where +Kathleen was to be found. No one observed the little deformed child as +she sped along through the wind and rain.</p> + +<p>She reached the theatre just as the people were beginning to come out.</p> + +<p>Elbowing her way through the crowd at the main entrance, she went to +a side door at which her father had told her to await Kathleen. She +had to stand for many minutes shivering in the cold ere any one issued +from this door. At last, however, it was opened and the players began +to come out. Some bold-looking girls appeared, who talked and laughed +loudly as they brushed past little Molly, standing in the shelter of +the doorway. Kathleen was not with these. Presently she came out alone +and stood for a moment on the steps, peering into the darkness beyond.</p> + +<p>"I cannot see father anywhere," she said to herself, half aloud.</p> + +<p>"I am here, Kathleen!" exclaimed Molly, springing forward. "Father was +so ill, he could not come, so he sent me."</p> + +<p>"Father ill!" said her sister. "What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"His cough has been worse than ever to-day," replied Molly. "And when +he was coming to meet you, he turned so faint, he could not get along. +So I've come instead, and father said I was to tell you to come home as +quickly as possible by the quietest streets."</p> + +<p>"All right, let's make haste," cried Kathleen, starting off at so quick +a pace that Molly could hardly keep up with her.</p> + +<p>No one looking at the two as they hurried on their way would have taken +them for sisters. There was nothing attractive in Molly's thin, wizened +face, with its unchildlike look of care, but Kathleen's was a face +which could not fail to call forth admiration.</p> + +<p>Her eyes shone like stars beneath the bright black tresses which waved +on her brow; her cheeks were round and rosy, her lips like coral, and +her look free and careless as that of a child. She was in truth little +more than a child, being but fifteen years old, though tall for her +years, with a pretty figure and graceful bearing. She differed from +Molly in character as much as in appearance.</p> + +<p>Kathleen was one to take things easily. Care could not lay hold on her +as on little Molly. She would be cross and fretful when things were not +to her mind, but she had a happy knack of shaking off her annoyance in +a moment, and making the most of every bit of enjoyment which came in +her way.</p> + +<p>Molly knew well that she was not like Kathleen. The sense of +inferiority to her sister kept her humble, and she never dreamed of +resenting the way in which Kathleen tyrannised over her. Sometimes it +pained her to think how different they were. She knew her father did +not love her as he loved Kathleen. She was poor little Molly, ugly and +crooked; he could take no pride in her.</p> + +<p>Little love or care had Molly's childhood known, for her birth had +cost her mother's life, and her father had no welcome for the sickly +babe which brought such trouble to his home. Yet Molly had lived to +repay with warm love the indifference with which her father and sister +regarded her. And though she often wished she were more like Kathleen, +no envy mingled with the wish to prevent her taking a loving pride in +Kathleen's beauty.</p> + +<p>"Has the manager paid you, Kathleen?" inquired Molly anxiously, as they +went along.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he has paid me. Listen!"—And Kathleen shook her pocket that Molly +might hear the shillings rattle. "Doesn't that sound nice? What say +you—shall we buy some hot pies for supper?"</p> + +<p>"Father might like one, perhaps," said Molly. "He has eaten scarcely +anything to-day, and we've nothing but bread and cheese. But don't buy +one for me. There are such lots of things to buy. We want coals and +candles, and almost everything, I think."</p> + +<p>"I wonder when father will be able to do full work again," said +Kathleen, discontentedly; "it's rather hard that my money should have +to go for coals and candles."</p> + +<p>"Kathleen," asked Molly, gravely, "have you ever thought—what if father +should die?"</p> + +<p>Kathleen started at the unexpected question, and the colour left her +cheek for a moment, but it quickly returned as she replied in a tone of +angry remonstrance:</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Molly, by saying such a thing? Father is not likely +to die; there is nothing the matter with him but a cough. I wish you +would not frighten me so."</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry," returned Molly, humbly. "I did not mean to frighten +you."</p> + +<p>"What can have put such a thought into your head, I can't imagine," +added Kathleen, still looking disturbed.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Molly, "it came to me quite suddenly, and I could +not get rid of it. But I'm glad you think it won't happen."</p> + +<p>"Of course not. Don't name such a thing to me again, pray."</p> + +<p>"No, I won't," said little Molly; and she kept her word.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image007" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image007.jpg" alt="image007"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image008" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image008.jpg" alt="image008"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_2">CHAPTER II.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>A SAD FAREWELL.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>IT was Sunday night, some weeks later. The bells of the churches rang +clearly on the keen frosty air, and from the squares and terraces lying +near the Edgware Road numbers of well-dressed folks were hastening to +attend evening service. Not that all who trod the pavements were abroad +for so good a purpose. There were at least as many pleasure-seekers as +church-goers passing along the road. The clatter of cabs and omnibuses +was almost as great as on a week-day. Here and there a shop might be +seen open, whilst at every corner stood groups of idle lads and giddy +girls, whose empty laughter fell harshly on the ear. Wending her way +amidst the motley crowd of pleasure-seekers and church-goers, with +quick step and eager anxious face, came little Molly.</p> + +<p>But it was neither pleasure nor piety which had brought her forth +on this sharp winter's night. She knew little enough of either, +poor child. She had never been inside a church in her life, and her +knowledge of religion was limited to some vague notions picked up in +the days when her father had been able to send her to school. She knew +the name of God as that of a mighty Being who lived in a far-off place +called heaven. But of the Father's love for His children, and the Son +He gave to save them, she was as ignorant as any heathen child.</p> + +<p>Perhaps if her mother had lived, Molly would have learned to love the +Saviour. But her father had no religious faith, and his children had +grown up with scarce any knowledge of Christian truth.</p> + +<p>It was a sad errand on which Molly was bound this evening. She was +hurrying along to find the parish doctor, and get him to come to her +father, who to-night was so very ill that even Kathleen was alarmed. He +had not gone to work since the day when he returned home so ill. His +strength had declined rapidly from that time, and now for many days, he +had been unable to leave his bed.</p> + +<p>Molly gained the doctor's door only to learn that he was from home, +and would not be back for some hours. She was cast down at hearing +this. But the servant promised to tell the doctor of her father's case +as soon as he should return. And with this promise, Molly had to be +content.</p> + +<p>Weary and sad, the child turned her steps towards home. As she drew +near the house, she saw a crowd of persons gathered at the corner of +the street, to listen to the words of a young man who was addressing +them in clear, animated tones. Molly looked curiously at the people, +but was passing on her way, when the speaker's words reached her ear, +and so attracted her that she could not help standing still to listen.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "Friends," she heard him say, "I have good news for you to-night. Yes, +good news for every one of you. No matter how poor and sad, how wicked +and miserable you may be, there is a Friend who loves you. He loves +you, but He does not love your sin. No; He wishes to save you from your +sin, for it is your greatest misery, and He can save you, however vile +and bad you may be, if only you will put your trust in Him. You may +have wandered far, far from all that is good and holy, you may have +gone astray like a lost sheep, but you have not got beyond the reach of +this Friend, 'for the Son of man is come to seek and to save that which +was lost.'<br> +<br> + "I wonder if any one of you knows what it is to be lost? Have you ever +been benighted on a dreary moorland, and wandering from the track lost +yourself on the wild waste, without a guide, without a light, all alone +in the darkness?<br> +<br> + "Ah! If so, you remember how glad you were when you saw the gleam of a +light, or heard the sound of a voice, or felt the grasp of a friendly +hand willing and able to guide you on your way.<br> +<br> + "Friends, there are many lost souls in this great city of London. What +a wilderness it is, with its numberless streets and lanes, its dark +courts and slums! What pitfalls there are to catch unwary feet; what +perils, seen and unseen, on every hand! Oh! The sin and misery which +lie around us! But in the midst of it all, the Son of man is seeking +His lost children. He is calling them to come to Him that He may make +them good and happy. Oh! Who would wander alone in such a desert, when +there is this loving Friend waiting to lead willing feet out of the +darkness and danger into the safe and happy pastures where the Good +Shepherd feeds His flock? The Son of man is come to seek and to save +that which was lost."<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>Molly heard no more. She would have liked to listen longer, but she +dare not stay. "I wish I knew what it all meant," she said to herself, +as she ran home.</p> + +<p>Her face grew very grave when she entered the room and saw her father's +state.</p> + +<p>He was lying propped up in bed, with a look of bitter anguish on his +pale, wasted face, as he struggled for breath. Kathleen stood by the +bed, sobbing bitterly, and the landlady of the house, who had come to +offer assistance, was also present.</p> + +<p>"Is the doctor coming?" asked this woman, when she saw Molly.</p> + +<p>"I could not find him," said the child; "he was away from home."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Well, it can't make much difference," the woman observed, in an +undertone.</p> + +<p>Molly wondered what she could mean.</p> + +<p>But she did not explain her words, and having done what she could for +the sufferer, she went down-stairs again.</p> + +<p>Molly crept close to the bed, and took her father's hand in hers. He +slightly pressed it, then extending the other, signed to Kathleen to +come nearer. She came and stood by Molly.</p> + +<p>"Kiss me, my darling child," he said.</p> + +<p>Kathleen stooped down and kissed him. Molly too pressed forward for a +kiss, but her father scarcely heeded her caress.</p> + +<p>"My pretty Kathleen," he said, tenderly and sorrowfully, "my precious +child, how can I leave you? Yet I must, I must. There is no help for it +now."</p> + +<p>"Oh, father! Do not talk so," cried Kathleen, in a passion of tears; +"you cannot, you must not leave me."</p> + +<p>"There is no help for it," he repeated, mournfully; "do you think I +would not stay, if I could? How can I bear to leave you all alone? What +will become of you, with no one to take care of you? You will be lost, +you and Molly, in this wilderness of London!"</p> + +<p>"This wilderness of London!" Molly thought of the preacher's words in a +moment.</p> + +<p>Would it comfort her father to hear what she had heard? It was not easy +to speak, with such a lump rising in her throat, but she forced back +her sobs, and asked in a little, quavering voice, "Father, have you +ever heard tell of the Son of man?"</p> + +<p>He started at her words, and turned his eyes upon her with an eager, +wistful gaze.</p> + +<p>"Molly, what do you mean? Who has been speaking to you?"</p> + +<p>"It was a man I heard in the street," she said; "he kept saying these +words:</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "'The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.'"<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>"Tell me," he said, feebly, still with that painful, yearning +look—"tell me all that he said."</p> + +<p>As well as she could, Molly repeated what she had heard the preacher +say.</p> + +<p>Her father seemed to drink in eagerly every word she uttered. And when +she stopped, he begged her to tell him more.</p> + +<p>Molly could only say the same again.</p> + +<p>"Ah! I have heard that before," said her father; "your mother used to +talk like that. She believed in religion, but I never did. I wish I +knew if it were true. But it's too late now. Oh, if only I had thought +more about these things when I was well and strong. Oh, children, +don't think to make yourselves better when you lie on a death-bed. It +is too late then, depend upon it. Your mother used to tell me that I +must repent and believe, but how can I repent now? I don't know how to +repent and believe. It's too late—too late!"</p> + +<p>He ended with a groan, and quite exhausted with the effort he had made +to utter these words, said no more.</p> + +<p>It was piteous to see his mournful look, but what could little Molly in +her ignorance say to comfort him? Nothing. All she could do was to show +her loving sympathy by keeping close to his side, and tenderly stroking +his wasted hand.</p> + +<p>For a long time there was silence in the room, broken only by the sound +of the sufferer's labouring breath. Kathleen crouched sobbing on the +hearth-rug, whilst Molly sat beside the bed holding her father's cold, +clammy hand in hers. The evening wore on, but the doctor did not come. +Gradually the noises in the house ceased, as one after another the +lodgers retired to rest.</p> + +<p>Kathleen had sobbed herself to sleep, and Molly was growing drowsy, +when she felt her father's hand move in hers. Wide awake in a moment, +she turned towards him. He was leaning forward, and looking at her with +such a strange, piteous look. He tried to speak, but his voice had +grown so faint that she had to put her ear close to his lips in order +to catch the words.</p> + +<p>"Molly," he whispered, "promise me you will always take care of +Kathleen. You are younger than she, but you are wiser than your age. +She is not like you. You must watch over her. Promise me."</p> + +<p>"I will, father. I will indeed," said Molly, tremulously, "but oh, +father, why do you say this?"</p> + +<p>He did not reply, and there was silence again.</p> + +<p>Molly was trembling with fear, but her father's hand lay in hers, and +she could not move to rouse Kathleen. After a few moments, he once more +strove to speak, but she could with difficulty make out his meaning.</p> + +<p>"Say it again," he seemed to say, and then she caught the words—"about +the Son of man."</p> + +<p>"You want me to tell you what I heard the man say?" asked Molly.</p> + +<p>He gave a feeble sign of assent, and slowly and distinctly Molly +repeated the words—</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "'The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.'"<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>Again his lips moved, and Molly, bending down, heard him murmur, "I'm +lost—lost! Oh, if only—"</p> + +<p>The voice died away in inarticulate mutterings. But after a time, she +fancied she heard him whisper—"to seek and to save—to seek and to save."</p> + +<p>He said no more, and the hand that she held seemed to grow cold and +heavy in her grasp. Little Molly gently rubbed it between her own +hands, then held it to her bosom, vainly trying to warm it, for it +remained cold as ever. Her father's breathing grew more slow and +irregular. But the child knew not what it meant, till at last there +came a long, deep sigh, followed by utter silence.</p> + +<p>Molly's own heart seemed to stand still in that sudden hush. For a few +moments, no sound broke the stillness. Then some cinders fell with a +clatter from the fire to the hearth, and Kathleen started and awoke.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Molly, how is father?" she cried, as she rubbed her eyes and +looked towards the bed. "Is he asleep?"</p> + +<p>Yes, truly he was asleep; but it was the sleep of Death.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image009" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image009.jpg" alt="image009"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_3">CHAPTER III.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>TWO LONELY GIRLS.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>ERE many days had passed, James Macardie was laid to rest in an obscure +corner of a crowded cemetery. His was a rough, parish funeral, and no +one, save his two children, mourned at his grave.</p> + +<p>Their hearts were very heavy as they turned away from the dreary spot, +feeling utterly alone in the world.</p> + +<p>"We have only each other now, Kathleen," whispered Molly, clinging +close to her sister's side.</p> + +<p>But Kathleen made no reply, and seemed hardly aware that her sister +spoke. The poor girl's grief was wild and passionate. She had sobbed +till she could sob no more, and her eyelids were so red and swollen +that she looked quite unlike the pretty Kathleen in whom her father had +taken such pride.</p> + +<p>Molly wept more quietly, but perhaps her sorrow was even greater than +her sister's. Certainly it pressed upon her heart long after Kathleen, +in the excitement of her engagements at the theatre, had shaken off all +signs of grief. And yet the father whom she mourned had never shown +much affection for little Molly.</p> + +<p>To neither of his children had he been a very good parent, for his +indulgence of Kathleen had been as unwise as his utter neglect of +little Molly. His had been a sinful, wasted life, for though he had +ever considered himself an ill-used man, the truth was that his own +foolish, thriftless habits had been the cause of all the want and +distress which had troubled his last days. He had come to see this when +health and strength were gone, and it was too late to do better. He +felt then it was his own fault that his death would leave his children +in such poverty.</p> + +<p>Remorse was keen when he reflected that his darling Kathleen, the +lovely child of whom he had been so proud, would be left without a +friend to guard her from the perils which must surround her girlhood. +Fears for Kathleen's future had distressed him as he felt his end +approaching, and the promise he had gained from little Molly had but +slightly calmed his dread.</p> + +<p>The two children were indeed in a most desolate position. They had +but just returned from seeing their father laid in his grave when +the mistress of the house in which they lived came to tell them that +she should soon want to let their room to another lodger, so they +had better lose no time in getting ready to move. She reminded them +that they owed her several weeks' rent, and glancing around the room +obligingly named the articles of furniture she was willing to accept +instead of money.</p> + +<p>Molly and Kathleen looked at each other in dismay. Where could they +find another home if they were turned out of this shelter?</p> + +<p>"You cannot expect us to leave at once," exclaimed Kathleen, +indignantly. "You will give us time to find another place, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! Kathleen, where can we go?" cried Molly. "Shall we have to go +to a horrid place like Ivy Court, where the women are always drunk +and quarrelling? Oh, dear! I wish we could stay here." And she looked +wistfully round the familiar room.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to be hard on you," said the woman, "but it's not likely +I could let you have one of the best rooms in the house for the small +sum you would pay. However, there's a little room higher up which I can +let to you for a trifle."</p> + +<p>And to this room the girls agreed to remove on the following day, +though they were far from pleased with the look of their new home.</p> + +<p>It was a bare, little garret, draughty and cold, with no window save a +skylight. It had been empty for a long time, and dust lay thick on the +floor. The window was darkened with dirt, and innumerable cobwebs hung +from the ceiling.</p> + +<p>Molly's heart sunk within her at the first sight of the room, whilst +Kathleen burst into tears, and declared passionately that she would +rather die than live in such a hole.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Kathleen," said Molly, bravely; "the room is dirty now, +but it can be made clean. You go to rehearsal as usual, and I'll ask +Mrs. Jones to lend me a broom, and see if I can't make the place look a +little tidier by the time you come back."</p> + +<p>"You, Molly! As if you could clean the room!" cried Kathleen. "It's a +strong woman's work to make this place decent. Mrs. Jones ought to do +it for us, but I suppose it's no use asking her. She's a horrid woman, +and I hate her."</p> + +<p>"There's a many worse than she," observed Molly.</p> + +<p>"Then I hope I may never know them," said Kathleen. "However, I must +be off to the theatre, or there'll be no money for us. Isn't it a good +thing, Molly, that poor father let me try the dancing? You know he +couldn't bear the thought of it, when Miss Evans, the actress, first +named it to him. But what would become of us now if I had not this way +of earning money?"</p> + +<p>"I s'pose there are other ways," said Molly; "you might have got a +place as servant somewhere."</p> + +<p>"Servant, indeed!" returned Kathleen, with a proud toss of the head. "I +think I see myself drudging as a maid-of-all-work. No; I would rather +starve than do that! But I really must go, so good-bye. I wish you joy +of your sweeping."</p> + +<p>Left to herself, Molly could no longer keep back her tears. There was a +sore, hopeless feeling at the child's heart.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, father!" she sobbed, as she stood in the middle of the +cold, dismal room. "I want you so badly. How can we get on with no one +to take care of us, not a single friend to help us?"</p> + +<p>Then Molly remembered the words of the street-preacher. "I wish I +knew who that great, kind Friend is who loves every one," she said to +herself. "Somehow I don't believe He's a real person. If He were, I'd +try to find out where He lives, and I'd go and ask Him to take care of +Kathleen and me. I told father I would take care of Kathleen, but I'm +such a poor little thing, I can't do much for her. However, I'll try +if I can't make this place look a little better by the time she comes +home."</p> + +<p>And drying her tears, Molly set to work without loss of time.</p> + +<p>Borrowing a broom of Mrs. Jones, she began to sweep, and soon raised a +cloud of dust, which almost choked her.</p> + +<p>Fortunately, Mrs. Jones came to the rescue, and showed her how to go to +work, and how to scrub the floor when it was swept.</p> + +<p>It was hard work for one so small, but Molly kept at it bravely, though +her head and back ached, and the tears would fall as she worked. She +was bent upon making the room look homelike by the time Kathleen +returned.</p> + +<p>She would scarcely have succeeded in doing so, however, had she not +received unexpected help. She was toiling up the steep staircase about +noon, carrying a pail of water almost as big as herself, when a cheery +voice from behind cried—</p> + +<p>"Here, little 'un, give me that. I reckon I can get it upstairs quicker +than you."</p> + +<p>And ere she could recover from her surprise, the pail was caught out of +her hand, and carried to the top of the house in less than no time. It +was Ned Jones, the landlady's son, who did her this good turn. He was +a big, stout lad, fast growing into a man, and with a true man's heart +beating beneath his fustian jacket.</p> + +<p>Molly had often seen him as she went in and out of the house, but she +had never spoken to him until this day.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you!" she cried, as she came up breathless. "That's a nice +help."</p> + +<p>"So you're moving in here," he said, looking into the room; "you're a +little bit of a thing to do such work as this. Is there anything I can +do? Ah! Yes. I see that window wants a polish, and you can't possibly +reach up to do it. Give me a cloth, and I'll give it a rub."</p> + +<p>And he rubbed away with hearty good-will, and soon effected a great +improvement in the appearance of the glass.</p> + +<p>Then he helped Molly to carry up the bedstead from the room below, and +such pieces of furniture as were too heavy for the child to lift alone. +It was soon done, for there were not many things to move.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, the little room looks quite cosy now," Ned said, as he +went away. "And I can tell you not many of the lodgers' rooms look so +clean as you have made this look. You're a rare smart little girl, +Molly."</p> + +<p>"Who'd have thought he'd have been so kind?" said Molly, when he had +gone. "I did not think there was any one so nice in the house. Really, +he seems quite like a friend now."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Kathleen, on her return, was much surprised to see the change in the +room.</p> + +<p>"You 'are' a good little thing, Molly," she said. "However did you +manage it?"</p> + +<p>Then Molly told the story of her morning's work, and the help Ned had +given her.</p> + +<p>"I'm very glad you got it all done before I came back," said Kathleen, +"for I am dreadfully tired and hungry. Is there nothing but dry bread +for dinner?"</p> + +<p>"I've got a little bit of butter for you," said Molly; "it's all there +is left, and there's no money for any more. No! Don't give me any!" she +cried, as her sister offered to halve it. "I would just as soon eat the +bread without."</p> + +<p>And she turned her eyes away from the butter, and cheerfully munched +her dry crust.</p> + +<p>"You do love me a little, don't you, Kathleen?" she asked presently, +laying her hand softly on her sister's arm.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, Molly, of course," responded Kathleen, with some impatience, +as she shook off her sister's hand; "you're my sister, you know, though +no one would think so to look at us. We're not a bit alike."</p> + +<p>"Oh no! We're not a bit alike!" echoed Molly, with a sigh. "Father +often used to tell me so. Poor father! He was 'very' fond of you, +Kathleen."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he was," replied Kathleen, tears coming into her beautiful dark +eyes. "Poor father! How shall we get on without him?"</p> + +<p>"I wonder if father's brother Tom will ever come back to England," said +little Molly; "if he did, he might take care of us."</p> + +<p>"If he could find us," returned Kathleen; "you forget that father had +heard nothing of him for years. Uncle Tom may be dead, for aught we +know. But if he is alive, and ever comes back to this country, he won't +know where to look for us, for we have moved from one place to another +since father wrote to him. He would not think of looking for us in this +wretched little street."</p> + +<p>"No more he would," said Molly; "I did not think of that. Father said +that he was making his fortune in Australia, so he would be quite a +rich man, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Then I wish he would come back and somehow manage to find us," +remarked Kathleen. "Oh, how nice it would be to be rich!"</p> + +<p>"Do you remember mother, Kathleen?" Molly asked, after they had been +silent a few minutes.</p> + +<p>"How often you ask me that question!" returned Kathleen. "I've told you +ever so many times that I have just a faint recollection of sitting +on her lap when I was a little girl. I don't know whether I really +remember it, or whether father told it to me."</p> + +<p>"And she used to brush your hair, and curl it round her finger, and +kiss you, and call you 'little Kathie?'" said Molly.</p> + +<p>"Yes—there, you see, you know it already, so you need not have asked +me."</p> + +<p>"Do you think mother would ever have done so to me if she had lived?" +asked little Molly, with tears in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I daresay," answered Kathleen carelessly; "only you know your +hair would never curl like mine."</p> + +<p>"No; and besides I am so ugly, and my back is all crooked," sighed +Molly. "No, she could never have loved me as she loved you."</p> + +<p>Apparently Kathleen was of the same opinion, for she did not attempt to +deny the statement. Having finished her dinner, she sprang up from her +chair and began to practise some dancing steps on the newly-scrubbed +floor, humming a lively air the while. The action jarred on Molly's +sorrowful mood. She wondered that Kathleen could dance and hum so gaily +on the day following that on which their father had been buried.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>In the evening, when Kathleen got ready to go to the theatre, Molly +also put on her hat and cloak. During her father's illness she had +always walked with her sister to the theatre, and gone later to fetch +her home, and she meant to do so still.</p> + +<p>But Kathleen raised an objection. "There's no need for you to come, +Molly," she exclaimed. "I am best alone. It's absurd for a little thing +like you to come out at night to keep me company."</p> + +<p>"But father wished me to go," said Molly, "and I promised him I would +always take care of you."</p> + +<p>"'You' take care of 'me!'" cried Kathleen, scornfully. "What a +ridiculous ideal! You forget I'm some years older than you. It's my +place to take care of 'you,' I rather think."</p> + +<p>"I must go, Kathleen; I promised father," persisted Molly.</p> + +<p>"Father never meant that you were to go always," declared Kathleen; +"and I don't mean to let you. It's not right for a little thing like +you to be out alone in the streets by night. There's no knowing what +might happen."</p> + +<p>"No one will take any notice of me," urged Molly; "it's quite safe. I'm +not like you, Kathleen."</p> + +<p>In spite of her strong wish to the contrary, Kathleen was forced to +give in, and let Molly have her way. Every evening the little girl +walked beside her sister to the theatre, then returned home to spend +some dreary hours in darkness and solitude, till the time came for +her to go back for Kathleen. Then she made her way rapidly along the +quietest streets to the theatre, and waited in some shadowed corner +till her sister appeared. Seldom did any one notice the child as she +slid along through the darkness or stood beneath a doorway, and such as +chanced to glance at her saw something in the look of the weird, wan +face and sad dark eyes, which deterred them from offering her annoyance.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image010" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image010.jpg" alt="image010"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image011" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image011.jpg" alt="image011"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_4">CHAPTER IV.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>THE THEATRE AND THE MISSION HALL.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>MOLLY was right in thinking that Ned Jones would prove a friend. He +was a strong, brave lad, having that tenderness for weaker creatures +which is a mark of true manhood. The courage with which little Molly +faced the trials of her lot and her devotion to her sister excited his +admiration, and made him desirous of befriending her. He had a pleasant +word for the little girl whenever they chanced to meet, and Molly was +very grateful for his kindness, for it was a rare thing for any one to +smile upon her.</p> + +<p>One evening, happening to overtake Molly on her return from escorting +Kathleen to the theatre, Ned thought he would like to give her a treat.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you've often been to the theatre, Molly?" he said.</p> + +<p>"I've never been inside it, if that's what you mean," was her reply.</p> + +<p>"What, have you never seen your sister perform? I should have thought +you would have gone to see her!"</p> + +<p>"No, but I've often longed to go," said Molly; "for though Kathleen's +told me about it lots of times, I would far rather see for myself what +it's like. Father used to go to the theatre now and then, but he always +said he could not take me."</p> + +<p>"I tell you what, Molly," exclaimed Ned; "I'll take you there to-night, +and you shall see for yourself just what it's like."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean it!" cried Molly, her eyes sparkling with delight. +"You're only making game of me."</p> + +<p>"No, indeed, I mean it," Ned assured her. "I'm flush of money just now, +and can stand you a treat. So come along, little 'un: there's no time +to lose, if we would get seats." And seizing her hand, he hurried her +along at a smart pace.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how surprised Kathleen will be when she hears I've been there!" +cried Molly, breathlessly, as they went along. "Now I shall see her in +the beautiful dress she was trying to tell me about."</p> + +<p>When they reached the theatre, they found a crowd gathered outside. And +as soon as the doors were opened, there was such a rush for the gallery +stairs that Molly might have been injured if Ned had not been there to +take care of her.</p> + +<p>But his strong arm shielded her from the rough jostling. And when she +was safe up the narrow staircase, and seated in one of the front seats +of the gallery, her delight was unbounded. She gazed admiringly round +the large gaily-lit place. The lavish display of paint and tinsel, the +gorgeous curtain, the lively music, fairly enchanted her.</p> + +<p>The atmosphere of the crowded gallery was hot and stifling, and +redolent of beer and tobacco, but the child was not aware of it. She +was too absorbed in seeing and hearing to pay heed to aught beside.</p> + +<p>Ned directed her eyes to the well-dressed people who were entering the +stalls or taking possession of the boxes. Amongst them were little +girls of her own age, but oh! they looked so different from poor +little Molly. The child gazing down on them from the distant height +of the gallery wondered what it could feel like to wear such warm +bright cloaks and pretty dresses. It made her sad in the midst of her +enjoyment to look at these happy children, with their soft bright hair +and joyous faces, and to think of the vast difference between their +life and hers.</p> + +<p>But this sadness vanished as at length, midst shouts and clapping, the +curtain slowly rose and revealed the glories beyond.</p> + +<p>Molly forgot everything else as she watched the wonders of the play. +She could not understand what it all meant, but she was charmed with +the changing scenery and the brilliant dresses of the players. And when +presently there appeared on the stage a young gipsy-girl, fancifully +dressed, with a crimson kerchief twisted amidst her black locks, and +bracelets gleaming on her bare arms as she flourished a tambourine and +danced and sung, Molly failed to recognize her sister, till a whisper +from Ned told her who it was. Then she watched Kathleen's performance +with breathless interest.</p> + +<p>At first she was pleased to hear the people clap and applaud. But +as the loudly-whispered remarks passing around reached her ear, +she blushed and wished it were not her sister upon whom they were +commenting so freely.</p> + +<p>What right had they to couple such epithets with Kathleen's name, and +to speak as if she belonged to them? Molly resented their freedom +of speech, and it marred her enjoyment of the remainder of the +entertainment.</p> + +<p>She was not sorry when it came to an end, and the people began to +disperse.</p> + +<p>She hurried with Ned to the side door, where, after waiting awhile, +they were joined by Kathleen.</p> + +<p>Kathleen was much surprised to learn that her little sister had been +seeing the play, but she did not show such pleasure as Molly had +expected.</p> + +<p>"There, there, don't talk any more about it," she cried, cutting short +Molly's eager words. "I'm so tired of the noise and glare. Oh! Yes, +you think it very fine, I daresay, but if you'd seen as much of that +theatre as I have, you'd be sick to death of it."</p> + +<p>"But oh! Kathleen, you looked so lovely when you came in and danced. I +did not know you at first," said Molly.</p> + +<p>"That's a doubtful compliment," returned Kathleen, who, however, was +not ill-pleased with it.</p> + +<p>"But, Kathleen, I did not like to hear the people shout and clap and +say such things about you."</p> + +<p>"What did they say?" asked her sister, eagerly.</p> + +<p>Then Molly repeated some of the comments which had reached her ears. +But the coarse admiration which she had resented was not distasteful +to Kathleen. She laughed, and said she was glad that she had pleased +the folks in the gallery, for they had sometimes a very objectionable +way of showing their disapproval of an actress. Her weariness seemed to +vanish, and she chatted merrily all the way home.</p> + +<p>But her mood changed when they had bidden Ned "good-night," and gained +their attic.</p> + +<p>"What a dreary place it is!" she said, as she entered the little room. +"No fire, no comfort of any kind. I wonder if any one seeing me dancing +and singing at the theatre could imagine that I live in such a hole as +this, and that I have not a friend in the world?"</p> + +<p>Kathleen's words made Molly very unhappy. She said nothing in +reply, for she knew it would be of no use to remind Kathleen of her +love—that was of small value. She wished she knew the Friend of whom +the street-preacher had spoken, that she might ask Him to be good to +Kathleen. Long after Kathleen had forgotten her annoyance in sound +slumber, Molly lay sleepless by her side, pondering what means she +could take to discover who this mighty Friend was, and how she might +get near Him and speak to Him.</p> + +<p>At last, she resolved that on the following Sunday evening, she would +go into the streets and look about for the preacher, in the hope of +hearing him again, and learning from his words more about the Son of +man.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>But she had not to wait till Sunday to hear about the Son of man. On +the following evening, as she was coming alone from the theatre, she +turned into a different street from the one she usually took, and found +herself close to a new-looking building, about which a crowd of persons +had gathered.</p> + +<p>Curious to see what was going on, Molly quickly crossed the road, and +made her way into the midst of the crowd.</p> + +<p>The door of the building stood open, and revealed a long room, +furnished with deal benches and brightly lighted by gas.</p> + +<p>Coloured pictures could be seen hanging on the whitewashed walls, and +gay banners waved over the door, giving the place a bright, cheerful +look. A policeman stood on the pavement, keeping order amongst the +crowd, and seeing that they stood back, so as to leave space for any +who wished to pass into the room.</p> + +<p>But at first very few ventured in, though many of the rough lads and +slatternly girls whom curiosity had brought to the spot peeped in at +the door.</p> + +<p>"What's going on in that room?" Molly asked of a woman who stood near +her.</p> + +<p>"Why, bless you, that's the new mission hall!" was the response. "It's +opened to-night for the first time, and there's a grand parson coming +to preach."</p> + +<p>"Who's he going to preach to?" asked Molly, wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"Who to? Why, the people, of course: any who like to go and hear him."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that any one can go in? May I go?" inquired the child, +with eagerness.</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course, if you've a mind to. Don't know but what I shall go in +myself, just to see what it's like, you know."</p> + +<p>Molly's mind was quickly made up. The brightly lit room with such +pretty pictures on the walls was far more attractive than the dark +attic to which she was returning.</p> + +<p>She walked to the door, and after a moment's hesitation stepped inside.</p> + +<p>There were two or three ladies standing at the top of the room, and one +of these ladies came to meet the child, and took her to a seat, and +gave her a hymn-book. Molly sat down and took a good look around her. +She was delighted with the pictures.</p> + +<p>There was one hanging on the wall facing her, from which she could +hardly take off her eyes. It represented a shepherd descending the +slope of a mountain, with a little lamb clasped in his arms. The path +along which he came was steep and rugged, and the hills lying behind +him were dark with storm-clouds; but the shepherd had sought and found +the little wanderer, and was carrying it safely to the fold. Tender and +sweet was the look on His face, as He sheltered the weary lamb in His +strong arms. There was love and pity in His glance, but no reproach nor +blame. Beneath the picture were these words printed,—</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost."<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Molly to herself as she read the words, "those are the +very words I heard the man say in the street, and which I repeated to +father. Then that must be a picture of the Son of man. I'm so glad to +see it, for now I know what He is like. How good and kind He looks! I'm +sure I should not be afraid to speak to Him, and ask Him to take care +of me and Kathleen."</p> + +<p>Here Molly's thoughts were diverted by the voice of the minister, who +began the service by giving out a hymn. Molly looked at him earnestly. +She liked the gentle, loving look, which his countenance wore, and the +tones of his voice sounded pleasantly in her ears. She looked away from +him to the picture, and then again at him, and fancied his face showed +a marked resemblance to that of the Shepherd.</p> + +<p>Could it be that He was the Son of man?</p> + +<p>For a few minutes, Molly's heart beat fast with the hope that it was +so. But as the service went on, there dawned on her mind a true idea of +who the Son of man was.</p> + +<p>At first, there was but a small congregation in the hall. But the sound +of the singing attracted the loiterers outside, and one after another +entered, so that by the time the minister began his address, the hall +was quite full.</p> + +<p>He took for his text the words,—</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "We love Him because He first loved us."<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>In clear, ringing tones he began to speak, and soon there was perfect +silence in the hall, as simply yet forcibly, he told the old, old +story of the Saviour's love. Step by step, he traced the course of the +wondrous life that began in the cradle at Bethlehem, and ended on the +cross at Calvary. Then he showed how that which seemed to be an ending +was in truth but a beginning, for death had no power over the Son of +God. He had loosed the bands of the grave and risen victorious over +death, and still lived to save and to bless, now as in the days of old, +the Saviour, Friend, and Brother of mankind.</p> + +<p>As the preacher thus spoke, many hearts were thrilled by his words.</p> + +<p>Some there were before him who had heard the truth in early life, +learned it, may be, at the knee of a mother, who had long since passed +from earth. And now, as the memories of childhood revived, they +wept for the sin which had stained their lives since those days of +innocence. Some, like little Molly, were getting their first distinct +impression of the Gospel, and the tidings of such a Saviour and Friend +fell on their ears with strange sweetness.</p> + +<p>The preacher's concluding words Molly could never forget: they seemed +so suited to her own case.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "Perhaps there is some one here to-night," he said, "who is sad and +lonely, some one who feels that he has no one to love him—no, not a +single human friend on whom to lean for comfort and help.<br> +<br> + "Surely that one will be glad to hear of the Divine Friend who loved +us so much that He gave His life for us. 'Greater love hath no man +than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.' Yet was the +Saviour's love greater, for whilst we were yet sinners—enemies—Christ +died for us.<br> +<br> + "Oh! Lonely one, whoever you are, come to this Friend. Do not be afraid +to come, however poor, or miserable, or sinful you may be. Jesus Christ +knows all about your sin and misery; yet He loves you in spite of all. +He knows the circumstances of your life; yes, every little detail: +nothing is hidden from His eyes, and He has help and healing for you. +He will bestow pardon, peace, and purity on all who trust Him. Come, +then, without fear. Bring to Him your sins, your sorrows, your daily +cares and anxieties. Speak to Him freely: He will hear you, for though +you see Him not, He is ever near you, ever waiting to listen to your +prayer.<br> +<br> + "Oh! Can you hold back, can you distrust His love after the mighty +proof of its reality He has given? Will you not love Him who first +loved you? Why should you live a lonely, friendless life, when there is +such a Friend waiting to help you, waiting to take you by the hand, and +lead you safely through the snares and dangers of this world, and to +bring you at last to His presence in the better, world beyond?"<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>This was glad news for little Molly. With a child's simple confidence, +she received the truth, and the thought of having such a Friend ever +near to aid and bless filled her heart with joy. She need nevermore +feel sad because no one loved her. Poor, ugly, deformed little creature +that she was, she had a Friend in the Son of man who had died for her.</p> + +<p>"To think He's been loving me all this while, and I never knew it," she +said to herself as she stood up and in her shrill little voice joined +in singing the hymn, "'Tell me the old, old story.'"</p> + +<p>As soon as the service was over, Molly slipped out of the hall, and ran +home, to think over in solitude the wonderful news she had heard.</p> + +<p>The dark attic was not now a dreary place. The unseen Friend was there, +and she no longer felt lonely. She spoke to Him in simple childish +words.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "Oh! Good Son of man," she said, "I'm a poor little girl, and I've no +one but Kathleen, and father said I was to take care of her, but I +can't do it properly, 'cause I'm not big enough. Oh! Please, Lord, be +our Friend, and take care of us, and teach us to love Thee!"<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>Many times did she repeat such words as these; and as she prayed, her +heart grew light and happy. She felt so sure that the Lord Jesus would +be her Friend, and take care of her and Kathleen.</p> + +<p>"Oh! How I wish father had known about the Son of man," she thought; +"for then he would not have been afraid to leave Kathleen alone. He +would not have asked me to take care of her, if he had known that the +Lord Jesus would be our Friend."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image012" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image012.jpg" alt="image012"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image013" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image013.jpg" alt="image013"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_5">CHAPTER V.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>MOLLY GAINS A TREASURE.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>IF Kathleen had looked closely at her sister, when she found her that +night waiting as usual at the door of the theatre, she would have +noticed that her face wore a singularly happy expression. But Kathleen +was not wont to pay heed to Molly's looks. She was too much taken up +with herself to care for her sister.</p> + +<p>"Molly is a good little creature in her way," Kathleen thought. But she +was so very different from herself that she believed she was justified +in treating her with some contempt.</p> + +<p>Kathleen was less likely than usual to notice Molly's looks this night, +since she was not alone when she came out of the theatre. She half +hoped that for once she might not find Molly awaiting her, for she was +ashamed that her companion should see her little sister.</p> + +<p>As her eye fell upon the tiny hunched-up figure standing by the +doorway, she actually felt cross with Molly for her deformity.</p> + +<p>"So you are here again, Molly," she cried; "you must be more fond of +the cold than I am to like to stand about on such a night as this."</p> + +<p>Molly had certainly not enjoyed lingering in that bitter atmosphere.</p> + +<p>The light mantle she wore was of far thinner texture than the shawl +in which Kathleen was closely wrapped, and her garments were all more +threadbare than those of her sister. Her father had bought clothes for +Kathleen as often as she required them, and he could spare the money, +but he had rarely thought it necessary to make any addition to Molly's +scanty habiliments. And now he was gone, and Kathleen's money had to +meet every need, there was small chance of Molly's getting any new +clothing.</p> + +<p>Kathleen's remark was therefore an unfeeling one to make to her sister +as she stood trembling with cold in the keen night air.</p> + +<p>But Molly forgot her words almost as soon as they were uttered. She was +gazing in surprise at the stranger who had hold of Kathleen's arm. He +was a tall, dark man, several years older than Kathleen. His features +would have been handsome, were it not for the bold, bad look stamped +upon them. He was well, though flashily dressed, wearing his hat +jauntily poised at the side of his head, and flourishing a cane in his +hand.</p> + +<p>At the first glance, Molly distrusted and feared this man, and his +words were not calculated to produce a more favourable impression.</p> + +<p>"So this is the little sister you were talking about," he said, looking +quizzingly at Molly. "Why, what a queer little object she is! She's not +a bit like you."</p> + +<p>"Oh no," said Kathleen, "we're not at all alike. She always will come +to walk home with me. It is very silly of her, a little puny thing, to +fancy that she can protect me."</p> + +<p>The man laughed loudly at the novel idea, and then Molly heard him say, +in an undertone, "Tell her not to come again. I'll walk home with you +in future."</p> + +<p>"It's no good telling her," Kathleen replied; "she won't keep away for +my telling. Now come on, Molly; don't stand staring like that!"</p> + +<p>Again the man laughed, and then whispered something that Molly could +not catch. The child felt very uncomfortable as she walked home, +keeping as close to her sister as she could. The strange man went all +the way with them, and talked fast to Kathleen, though in tones too low +for Molly to hear what was said.</p> + +<p>Kathleen laughed and blushed, and seemed very excited. Molly thought +she had never seen her sister look more lovely—there was such a +beautiful colour in her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled so. But to-night +Molly could take no pleasure in her sister's beauty.</p> + +<p>Somehow, she could have wished Kathleen were not so pretty, when she +saw how the stranger looked at her.</p> + +<p>"Who is that man, Kathleen?" she asked, when they reached home, and at +last, after a prolonged farewell, he had left them at the door.</p> + +<p>"He is Mr. Vavasour, one of the actors at the theatre," replied her +sister. "I like him so much; he's so kind to me! He says I'm one of the +best dancers he has ever seen, and he thinks that if I study and take +pains, I shall be a grand actress some day."</p> + +<p>"He's a horrid-looking man!" said Molly, decidedly.</p> + +<p>"Horrid-looking, you little silly?" returned Kathleen. "Why, he's very +handsome, and quite a gentleman, I can tell you. They think a deal of +him at the theatre, and his acting's splendid. I feel proud that he has +promised to be my friend."</p> + +<p>"I don't call him a gentleman," said Molly, mentally contrasting his +appearance with that of the minister she had heard preach that night. +"And I can tell you of a far better friend than he is likely to be."</p> + +<p>"Don't talk like a simpleton!" retorted Kathleen. "What can you know +about gentlemen, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>Upon that, Molly began to tell her evening's experiences. But she had +not said much about the meeting ere Kathleen impatiently interrupted +her.</p> + +<p>"There, that will do, Molly! I don't want to hear any more about the +preaching. I've heard that sort of thing before now!"</p> + +<p>"But, Kathleen, I want to tell you about the Lord Jesus, who will be +our Friend," urged Molly.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to hear!" retorted Kathleen. "I know already! I heard +something about it years ago, when I once went to Sunday-school."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Kathleen!" exclaimed Molly, reproachfully. "Do you mean to say +you've known about the Lord Jesus all this while, and never told me?"</p> + +<p>"I did not know you would care to hear," said Kathleen. "However, +there's a book of mother's somewhere, in which you can read it all for +yourself."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Where?" cried Molly, eagerly. "Do show it me. I should so like to +read it."</p> + +<p>"I can't find it now," said her sister; "I'm tired, and want to go to +bed, so stop talking, Molly, and get me some supper."</p> + +<p>Molly did as she was bid. She was disappointed at the manner in which +Kathleen had received her account of the meeting at the mission hall, +and greatly surprised to find that the glad tidings she had received +with joy were already known to her sister.</p> + +<p>"Kathleen," she ventured to whisper, when they were lying down together +in the darkness, "haven't you loved the Lord Jesus ever since you knew +that He died for us?"</p> + +<p>But Kathleen made no reply, and Molly wondered to think how quickly she +had fallen asleep.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>The next morning, when the two children had finished their breakfast of +dry bread and weak coffee, and Molly had washed the cups and plates and +tidied the room, she said to her sister, "Kathleen, will you find me +the book you spoke of last night?"</p> + +<p>"What book?" asked Kathleen.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know, that book of mother's that tells about the Lord Jesus."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I can't find it now," returned Kathleen. "I must finish learning +my new part before I go to rehearsal."</p> + +<p>"Where is it?" asked Molly. "Can't I find it for myself?"</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, Molly, what a tiresome little thing you are! As if you could +not wait a while."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to be troublesome," said Molly, humbly, "but I thought I +should like to read whilst you were gone."</p> + +<p>"Well, I think it's in that box under the bed," said Kathleen. "You can +look for it if you like; only be careful how you turn over the things."</p> + +<p>In a moment, Molly dived under the bed and dragged out the box. Its +lock was gone, and it was kept closed by means of a cord tied tightly +round it. Very quickly the little fingers unfastened the knot and threw +back the lid.</p> + +<p>The box contained nothing of value, only a few relics of the life of +past years.</p> + +<p>At the top lay the clothes her father had worn, the old greatcoat and +shabby hat which he had put on for the last time on the evening when he +made a vain attempt to go to the theatre to fetch Kathleen home. Tears +came to Molly's eyes as she lifted the garments tenderly and laid them +on one side. Below were things which had belonged to her mother—an old +straw bonnet, a torn apron, a pair of well-worn slippers, some tiny +frocks which Kathleen had once worn and then handed on to her sister, +pretty little frocks bearing witness to the love and industry of the +mother who had made them for her darling. And underneath them Molly +found the baby clothes which she herself had worn, also the work of her +mother's clever fingers.</p> + +<p>"Mother made this for me," the child said to herself as she held up a +tiny garment. "Ah! If she had lived, I should not have been like this."</p> + +<p>And she glanced with disgust at the ragged frock which she had not +skill to mend, and the holes which appeared in her boots.</p> + +<p>Then with a sigh, she continued her search. There were some packets of +letters and several broken-backed novels lying at the bottom of the +trunk, and amongst them Molly found a small brown book, which a glance +at the title-page told her was the one she sought.</p> + +<p>Eager to begin reading, she replaced the things in the box as speedily +as possible, and pushing it out of sight sat down to enjoy her book.</p> + +<p>She opened it at the first page, but she could make nothing of the hard +names which there met her eyes. Turning over a few leaves, however, +she came to what she could understand, and read of some of Christ's +miracles of healing. Great was her wonder and delight as she read. Once +or twice she asked Kathleen to tell her a word, or explain something +she could not understand.</p> + +<p>But Kathleen sat at a distance, with her fingers in her ears, intently +studying the play-book which lay on her knee, and would not listen to a +word her sister had to say.</p> + +<p>So Molly had to make out the meaning for herself, and skipping the hard +passages, read only the simple narratives which she could not fail to +understand.</p> + +<p>She felt that she had found a treasure in finding that little book. +After this, she used to study the Testament during her solitary hours, +whilst Kathleen was absent at the theatre. She loved to read of the +Saviour's miracles of love and mercy, and the page grew wet with her +tears as she read of the anguish in the garden, the shameful mocking +and scourging, the traitorous friend, and the death on the Cross.</p> + +<p>It was all real to little Molly. She pictured the Saviour, looking +gentle and loving, like the Shepherd in the picture at the mission +hall, as He went amongst the poor and suffering to heal and to save. +She wished she could have been one of the children upon whom His hand +had been laid in blessing. Then she reminded herself that this same +Jesus still lived, and that He loved her and Kathleen.</p> + +<p>Many a question puzzled her sharp little mind, and she longed for some +one to explain the book to her; but this truth she believed—Jesus lived +and Jesus loved her. Every day she asked the unseen Friend to take care +of her and her sister, and she believed that He heard her, and would +watch over them.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>But ere many days had gone, a cloud passed over little Molly's faith. +At first it was a very small cloud raised by some words from Kathleen.</p> + +<p>On Sunday evening Molly asked her sister if she would go with her to +the service at the mission hall. Kathleen was not much inclined to go, +but when Molly tried to persuade her, she consented, saying that though +she did not suppose it would be very lively, it might be better than +moping at home.</p> + +<p>Molly was not a little pleased to gain Kathleen's company, and started +for the mission hall with a glad heart.</p> + +<p>But disappointment awaited her there.</p> + +<p>Kathleen, accustomed to the gaudiness and glitter of the theatre, +did not think much of the pictures which Molly admired so greatly. +She scarcely cared to glance at the picture of the Shepherd with the +found lamb, and was by no means charmed with the singing, as Molly had +expected she would be. To Molly's regret, the preacher was not the +one to whom she had before listened. He was a younger man, and his +countenance, though not ill-looking, bore little resemblance to that of +the Shepherd in the picture. Molly felt very disappointed at not seeing +the minister whom she liked so much, and the words of this preacher did +not interest her as the other's had done. She saw that Kathleen paid +little attention to what he said, but yawned and fidgeted, and seemed +glad when the service was over.</p> + +<p>"How is it the minister who preached on Tuesday did not come to-night?" +Molly ventured to ask of the woman who took care of the hall.</p> + +<p>"Because he's got better folk to preach to than any that come here," +was the quick rejoinder. "Why, don't you know who he is? He's the Rev. +Dr. Templeton, who preaches in the large church at the corner of Albion +Square, where lots of rich and fashionable people go. This mission hall +is in connection with his church, and he just came on Tuesday night to +start it, that was all."</p> + +<p>"Then won't he preach here again?" asked Molly.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't suppose he will; he's got something better to do, you see."</p> + +<p>"Come along, Molly; what do you want to stop in this place for?" cried +Kathleen, impatiently.</p> + +<p>Molly drew a sigh as she followed her.</p> + +<p>"Don't ask me to go there again," said Kathleen; "it's the dullest +affair I ever was at in my life."</p> + +<p>"I wish you could have heard the minister who preached on Tuesday," +said Molly; "you would have liked him. It has made me so happy to think +of the words he said about how Jesus loved us and died for us."</p> + +<p>"It was very fine, I daresay," replied Kathleen, tossing her head, "but +I don't believe in that sort of thing."</p> + +<p>"But it's all true, Kathleen; it's written in mother's book."</p> + +<p>"Well, that does not make it true, you little silly," returned +Kathleen, contemptuously: "do you think that everything that's printed +in a book must be true? If so, you don't know much. Why the play-books +I have, and those novels I read sometimes, are all untrue, every word +of them. For my part, I don't believe there's any one who loves us. It +certainly does not look like it, when we are so poor and friendless."</p> + +<p>Little Molly felt as though she had received a blow. Surely it could +not be as Kathleen said? It must be true that Jesus lived and loved her.</p> + +<p>Her heart beat fast with fear lest her precious hope should prove +false. She could not answer her sister's words, nor shake off the doubt +they aroused. She did not take up her book when they got home, but sat +still, musing uneasily on what Kathleen had said.</p> + +<p>When bedtime came, she whispered a prayer as she lay down to rest, but +she could not feel sure that it was heard, and her safe, happy feeling +was gone.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image014" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image014.jpg" alt="image014"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image015" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image015.jpg" alt="image015"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_6">CHAPTER VI.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>DOUBT AND DISAPPOINTMENT.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>MOLLY woke the next morning feeling heavy and sad. At first she +wondered what had brought such a weight upon her heart, but she quickly +recollected the words Kathleen had uttered on the previous night, and +the doubt which had afterwards troubled her mind.</p> + +<p>But now, as she mused over Kathleen's words, after a night of +refreshing sleep, they lost their power to distress.</p> + +<p>"It was silly of me to be cast down by what Kathleen said," she +thought, as she rose and began to dress; "what difference can it +make what she thinks? It's not likely that she knows better than the +minister. Besides, I'm not sure that she really meant what she said, +for she often says things only for the sake of being contrary. No, no, +I'll not believe but what my book is true. It must be true; no one +could make up such a story."</p> + +<p>And as she began to get breakfast ready, whilst Kathleen still lingered +in bed, Molly sang softly the hymn she had heard at the mission hall, +"'Tell me the old, old story.'"</p> + +<p>"I wish you wouldn't make that noise, Molly," grumbled Kathleen, in a +sleepy tone.</p> + +<p>Molly hushed her song in a moment.</p> + +<p>But later in the morning, when Kathleen had gone out, she sang it +lustily as she went about her work.</p> + +<p>When she had finished tidying the room, she took her book and sat down +to read. There was not a shadow of doubt upon her mind as she read the +sacred story. And she was so absorbed in John's account of Christ's +healing the blind man that she failed to hear a tap at the door, and +was quite surprised when it suddenly opened, and Ned Jones looked in +upon her.</p> + +<p>"Hulloo! Little maid!" he exclaimed. "I thought you must be out when +you did not reply to my knock. What book are you reading that makes +you so deaf?" And he walked to where the child sat and peeped over her +shoulder. His face changed when he saw what the book was.</p> + +<p>"Oh! That's what you're reading, is it?" he said, in a tone of contempt.</p> + +<p>"Do you know it? Have you read it?" Molly asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Not likely! I know better. And, Molly, I should have thought you had +more sense than to muddle your head with that book!"</p> + +<p>"It doesn't muddle my head, Ned. I like it, and so would you like it if +you read it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I daresay!" he returned, in a mocking tone.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you would like it," asserted Molly. "You should go to the mission +hall and hear the preaching there. That 'd make you want to read this +book."</p> + +<p>"No, thank you!" he laughed. "That sort of gammon won't do for me. I +know what their preaching is like, but I don't believe in it. It's very +fine talk, no doubt, but it's not true."</p> + +<p>"Not true!" repeated Molly; and her little face took a look of fear.</p> + +<p>"No!" continued Ned, in a tone of defiance. "I don't believe a word of +it's true. It's all very well for the rich swells to preach and pray +and build mission halls for the poor, but we know it's only a dodge +to keep us down, that they may trample on our rights, and do with us +just as they please. You should hear my uncle talk about it—he's such +a clever man my uncle is; there's no hoodwinking him. He belongs to +a club which meets once a week to discuss the wrongs of the working +classes, and how they should be set right. He took me to the club one +night; and I can tell you it was fine to hear him talk. Oh, he's such a +clever man!"</p> + +<p>"Does your uncle say that this book is not true?" asked little Molly, +gazing at Ned with an anxious, wistful look in her dark eyes.</p> + +<p>"Bless you, yes! He calls all religion cant and humbug. He says it's +very fine for the swells to talk about brotherly love and charity, and +so on. But they never show any brotherly love when they grind down the +poor man and let him go hungry and cold, whilst they never want for +anything. Oh, it's easy to see that their pretended goodness is all a +sham!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! Ned, don't talk like that!" cried little Molly, in a tone of +distress. "I know my minister is true! I'm sure he's a good, kind man, +and cares for the poor!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I daresay he's a good sort of fellow in his way. He does not +mind going amongst the poor to patronise them and to preach to them. +It's his business to do that. But you go to his fine church on Sunday, +Molly, and go in amongst the grand ladies and gentlemen who attend +there, and see what sort of a welcome you'll get."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I wish you would not talk so!" said Molly, with tears in her eyes. +"You make me very unhappy! And I was so happy before in believing that +Jesus Christ would be our Friend, and take care of me and Kathleen! I +thought it would be so nice to go every Sunday to the mission hall, but +now you've spoilt all by what you've said."</p> + +<p>Ned's face changed at her sorrowful words. The vain, self-confident +expression vanished, and he looked uneasy.</p> + +<p>"I'm very sorry I have made you unhappy, little Molly," he said. "I +daresay religion is a good thing for women and little girls. Go on +believing it, if it makes you happy."</p> + +<p>"But I can't, after all you've said," Molly exclaimed; "what good can +it do me to believe a thing that is not true? I don't want to believe +it, if it's not true."</p> + +<p>Ned felt uncomfortable, and wished his words unsaid. He was silent for +a few minutes, then, forgetful of the errand on which he had come up +to the attic, he nodded good-bye to Molly and went slowly down-stairs, +feeling heartily ashamed of himself for having robbed a little child of +the faith which made her happy.</p> + +<p>Left to herself, Molly sat down on the floor and had a good cry. It was +such a disappointment. She had a high opinion of Ned's wisdom, and Ned +had said that her book was not true.</p> + +<p>Her happy faith that the Lord Jesus loved her and watched over her was +a mistake, and she was the victim of a delusion and a sham. Little +Molly's experience of the world made it easy for her to believe in +such deception, and she felt ashamed now to think how readily she had +suffered herself to be imposed upon. She might have known better. She +had heard her father speak often enough of clever hoaxes and fair words +spoken to deceive. Had he not told her that she was in a bad, cruel +world, where no one could be trusted, and there was no one to care for +her? And when, as he lay on his death-bed, she spoke to him of the Son +of man, had he not said that he wished he knew if it were true? Well, +she knew now that it was not true; it was only a story, nothing more.</p> + +<p>Such were at first her thoughts. But presently hope re-asserted itself. +Was it quite certain that she was mistaken?</p> + +<p>Why should Ned's word be more trustworthy than the minister's? Ned's +uncle, clever though he was, could not know everything.</p> + +<p>She would not, she could not, cease to trust in the Lord Jesus; she +would go on believing, in spite of what Ned had said.</p> + +<p>Thus little Molly wisely resolved, but the impression left on her +mind by Ned's words was not to be shaken off. Her faith was weak and +trembling after such a shock. She continued to go to the Sunday evening +services, but she did not enjoy them as before. Whilst the preacher +spoke of Jesus and His love, she seemed to hear Ned saying, "It's only +a dodge of the rich swells to keep us down and trample on our rights." +And her heart grew sick with doubt and perplexity.</p> + +<p>How was she to find out the truth? Oh, how she wished she could again +hear the minister with the gentle, loving face, which had so won her +confidence that it was impossible to believe him anything but good and +kind, or to doubt the truth of what he said.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>One Sunday morning, Molly went out alone for a stroll. She left +Kathleen in bed reading a novel. But the March day was too bright for +Molly to care to remain indoors. The sun shot down such warm rays as +might have deceived one into the belief that the reign of winter was +over, had not the keen east wind which swept round the corners of the +streets and drove the dust in clouds along the roads speedily destroyed +the illusion.</p> + +<p>Molly looked a miserable little mortal as she walked aimlessly on, +keeping ever on the sunny side of the road. Her face had grown thinner +and sharper during the weeks which had passed since her father's death, +and the old careworn expression was even more marked than before. There +was a restless, troubled look in her eyes as they glanced quickly from +side to side, taking note of every object which came within their range.</p> + +<p>Unconsciously, she had turned her steps in the direction of Albion +Square, and now she saw before her a handsome church, into which a +number of well-dressed persons were passing. At the same time, it +flashed on her mind that she had been told that her minister, as she +called him, preached in a church at the corner of Albion Square. The +thought quickened her steps. She ran across the road, and, taking a +position beside the church door, watched with curiosity, not unmixed +with envy, the grand-looking persons who entered the building. Amongst +them she saw many little girls, warmly and prettily clad, and looking +very happy as, led by parent or friend, they went into church.</p> + +<p>"How nice it must be to wear such beautiful clothes!" said Molly to +herself. And then she looked at her own ragged frock and the holes in +her shoes, and felt the tattered brim of her hat. How different her +appearance from that of these little girls!</p> + +<p>"If it's at all true about the Lord Jesus," thought Molly, "I guess +these are the little girls He loves. 'Taint likely He can care about +a poor, ragged, crooked child like me. I wish I could see the inside +of that church. I'd go in, but I expect they'd turn me away if I did. +I wonder if I could just creep inside the door for a minute and take +a peep round without being seen? I should so like to see my minister +again!"</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image016" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image016.jpg" alt="image016"></figure> +<p class="t4"> +<b>MOLLY IN THE CHURCH PORCH.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>The temptation was not to be resisted. Screening herself behind a +portly old gentleman, Molly ascended the stately steps, and slipped +inside the church porch.</p> + +<p>She stood for a few moments half behind the door, trying to keep out of +sight of the smart-looking pew-opener, whom she suspected would prove +her enemy.</p> + +<p>But she forgot the need of caution when she saw her minister coming +in at the door. Yes, it was he; she was not mistaken. There was the +same kind face, wearing such a pleasant smile as he responded to the +greetings of the people about him. By his side walked a young lady, +beautifully dressed in rich velvet and fur. She was remarkably pretty, +but there was that in her bearing which seemed to indicate that she did +not underrate the impression her charms were calculated to produce.</p> + +<p>Little Molly was struck with this young lady's appearance. She thought +she had never seen any one so lovely.</p> + +<p>"She looks like an angel!" the child murmured to herself as she +gazed admiringly at the fair young girl with her golden hair and +delicate-featured face.</p> + +<p>But, unfortunately, in her eagerness to examine more closely the young +lady's beautiful dress, Molly pressed too near, and her dusty boots +trod upon the flowing skirt. Alas! It was no angelic look which came to +the young lady's face at that moment, but a look of anger and intense +disgust, as she hastily drew her dress as far as possible from the +little ragged child. She said nothing, but her expression was eloquent +enough, and Molly shrunk back with a sudden painful sense of her +shabby, unlovely appearance. The child's sensitive heart had received a +deep wound, and that look of repulsion lingered in her memory for many +a day.</p> + +<p>It was over in a moment. The young lady swept into the church, and the +minister passed to the vestry without seeing the forlorn child.</p> + +<p>Molly stood still for a few minutes, too bewildered to move from the +spot.</p> + +<p>She was conscious of many persons passing her, some of whom regarded +her with looks of surprise, as if wondering what business she had to be +there.</p> + +<p>But no one looked with pity on the poor child, or spoke a kind word to +her.</p> + +<p>"Now, then! What are you doing here?" said the pew-opener, roughly. +"This is not the place for you; you'd better be off!"</p> + +<p>The words roused Molly. She needed no second bidding to be off, but +hurrying into the street, hastened in the direction of home.</p> + +<p>But ere she had gone far, her steps flagged, and large tears dimmed her +sight.</p> + +<p>"It's just as Ned said!" she mused, sorrowfully. "Those people don't +care anything about us. And I don't believe it's true about Jesus +Christ. I guess Ned's uncle is right, and it's all a make-believe. +I won't think any more about it, and I won't go to the mission hall +again!"</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image017" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image017.jpg" alt="image017"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image018" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image018.jpg" alt="image018"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_7">CHAPTER VII.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>A STRANGE QUESTION.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>MOLLY held to her resolution, and kept away from the mission hall. +Yet it was hard to do so. She would go to the door of the hall, and +lingering there, listen to the singing with tears in her eyes. But +when she felt drawn to go in, she thought of Ned's words, and said to +herself, "No, it's all a cheat, and I won't be taken in again."</p> + +<p>Now, on a Sunday evening, Kathleen would persuade her to take a walk, +and they would wander idly through the streets, being joined, perhaps, +by some of Kathleen's associates of the theatre. Then there would be +much loud talking and foolish jesting, in which Molly had no heart +to join. But none of the girls took notice of her, save to ridicule +her odd appearance. At such times, Molly felt lonely indeed, but +remembering her promise to her father, she kept close to her sister's +side, and would not be driven away by her cold words or looks.</p> + +<p>Molly was growing uneasy about Kathleen. She fancied that her sister +was making friends of such persons at the theatre as her father would +not have liked her to know. The strange man whom Molly instinctively +dreaded often walked home with Kathleen of a night. The more Molly +saw of him, the more she distrusted and feared him. It was of no +use, however, for her to beg Kathleen to have nothing to say to him. +Kathleen only laughed and said that he was her best friend, and quite a +gentleman, and she should certainly talk with him as much as she liked.</p> + +<p>Molly felt weak and helpless. How could she take care of Kathleen? Oh, +if only it had been true about the unseen Friend!</p> + +<p>As spring advanced, and the days grew warm, the position of the poor +lonely girls did not improve. It had from the first been difficult to +make the few shillings which Kathleen earned at the theatre suffice for +the week's needs. Molly was a clever little manager, but Kathleen would +not always entrust the money to her care. Sometimes she chose to spend +it as she liked, and would invest the money that would have paid the +rent in a gay ribbon or flower for herself. Then for days little Molly +had to pinch and save and do with insufficient food, in order to make +up for Kathleen's extravagance.</p> + +<p>But now things grew even worse. As the winter season passed away, +Kathleen was not required at the theatre so often, and her earnings +were accordingly less. It was hard work to live on so little, and many +a night the girls lay down to sleep feeling hungry. One after another +articles taken from the box beneath their bed were carried to the +pawnshop. Molly could bear her own privations with patience, but it +grieved her to see her sister suffer want. Her heart ached sorely as +she listened to Kathleen's complaints, and saw that she was growing +pale and thin.</p> + +<p>"If only Mr. Vavasour were here, he would help us, I know," Kathleen +cried one day. "But he's away acting at the country theatres, and won't +be back for ever so long."</p> + +<p>"We can get along without his help," returned Molly, quickly. "I tell +you what, Kathleen, I've been wondering if there's not some way by +which 'I' can earn money."</p> + +<p>"You earn money, indeed!" exclaimed Kathleen, scornfully. "What an +idea! I should like to know how you would do it."</p> + +<p>"I can sweep and scrub and clean boots and knives," said little Molly. +"Perhaps some one might be willing to hire me for a few hours a day."</p> + +<p>"Not very likely," was Kathleen's unkind retort. "The look of you would +be enough for most folks. Who would care to have a little crook-backed +thing like you for a servant?"</p> + +<p>Molly was pained, and said no more, but she did not abandon her project.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>After pondering over it for a while, she found courage to name it to +Mrs. Jones.</p> + +<p>At first, Mrs. Jones was scarcely more encouraging than Kathleen, but +she promised to inquire amongst her acquaintances, and if she heard of +any one needing a girl's help, to mention Molly. She kept her word, and +to good purpose, for at the close of the week, she told Molly that she +had found a place for her. Her sister-in-law, who kept a boarding-house +in George Street, was in want of a girl who could come for a few +hours in the morning to clean boots and knives. On Mrs. Jones's +recommendation, she was willing to try Molly.</p> + +<p>The child was delighted with this success, and felt quite rich when she +heard that she was to be paid two shillings a week for her work.</p> + +<p>She went to her new employment on the following Monday with a brave +heart, determined, if possible, to give satisfaction. Cleaning boots +and knives, running errands, and toiling up and down steep flights of +stairs was hard work for the child. She often came home at noon, on the +hot summer days, feeling faint and sick, and looking sadly pale and +worn, but she never complained of weariness.</p> + +<p>And Kathleen, pleased with the easier living which Molly's earnings +secured, did not doubt that her sister's strength was equal to the work +she undertook.</p> + +<p>Molly saw little of the inmates of the boarding-house, for most of them +were away at the time she was there. Yet with one of the boarders, she +chanced to form an acquaintance. She was sent one morning with a pair +of boots to the room occupied by Madame Ganelli, a professional singer +residing in the house.</p> + +<p>Molly tapped, as directed, at this lady's door, but the sound of her +gentle knock was lost in the flood of melody coming from the room. +Molly, who loved nothing better than to hear singing, stood still to +listen. Never before had she heard such music as this; the singing at +the mission hall was nothing compared with it. The child was as one +spell-bound, as the full, rich notes of an Italian melody, sung by a +fine and well-trained voice, fell on her ears.</p> + +<p>The door before her was ajar, and moved by an irresistible longing to +see the singer who could pour forth such a strain, Molly pushed it a +little further open, and peeped into the room. The scone which met her +gaze was somewhat disappointing.</p> + +<p>A more untidy room could hardly be. The bed was unmade, a tray bearing +remnants of breakfast stood on a side table, and various articles of +attire lay about the apartment just where the wearer had tossed them on +the previous night. Serene, in spite of the disorder around her, the +singer sat at a piano, littered with sheets of music. She was a woman +who had seen more than thirty years, and looked her full age at this +hour, as clad at her ease in dressing-gown and slippers, she practised +her singing.</p> + +<p>Her face was thin and sallow, but it was not without beauty, and the +gentle, melancholy expression it wore at this moment attracted little +Molly.</p> + +<p>The child knew she had no right to linger at the door, but it was hard +to turn away from such thrilling music.</p> + +<p>While she stood hesitating, the Italian song came to an end. And after +a few moments, the powerful voice broke forth in a new strain. This +time the words were English, and such as startled Molly.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "'I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that He shall stand at the latter +day upon the earth.'"<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>Molly's heart beat fast as she listened.</p> + +<p>She could not be deceived as to the meaning of the words.</p> + +<p>It must be Jesus Christ of whom the singer sang, for had she not heard +one of the preachers at the mission hall speak of Him as the Redeemer? +In her eagerness, she pressed closer to the open door.</p> + +<p>Everything was forgotten save the thrilling song, "'I know that my +Redeemer liveth.'"</p> + +<p>At first, the notes were low and uncertain, but the singer repeated +them again and again with growing power, till presently the words +swelled forth in a strain which seemed to breathe triumphant faith.</p> + +<p>Little Molly could not doubt that the singer felt the significance +of the words she sang. The child's heart bounded with hope. Here, +then, was one who firmly believed in the Lord Jesus Christ. Oh! She +must speak to her; she must ask her how it was she was so sure that +the Redeemer lived? And without waiting to consider the wisdom of +her impulse, Molly made three steps into the room, and startled the +performer by exclaiming,—</p> + +<p>"Please, lady, how is it you know that the Redeemer lives? Oh! I wish +you would tell me, for I do so want to be sure about the Lord Jesus!"</p> + +<p>With a start of amazement, the lady turned, and looked with astonished +eyes on the strange little mortal addressing her. "Who are you, child?" +she exclaimed. "And what did you say to me?"</p> + +<p>"I'm Molly, please, ma'am," replied the child, trembling as she became +conscious of the boldness of her action. "Molly Macardie, what cleans +the boots and knives. I came to bring you your boots, and I heard you +singing, and I wanted to ask you how you know that the Redeemer lives, +for I do so want to be certain that the Lord Jesus lives and loves us."</p> + +<p>The lady made no reply. Her face grew very red, and she turned round +quickly to the piano.</p> + +<p>Molly thought the lady must be angry with her for her unceremonious +entrance.</p> + +<p>"Please, ma'am," she said humbly, "I know I ought not to have come into +your room so sudden-like, without knocking. I promise you I'll never do +it again if only you'll tell me about the Lord Jesus."</p> + +<p>The lady turned round again, and once more surveyed the little deformed +child. But she could scarcely bear to meet the earnest gaze of Molly's +wistful dark eyes; they seemed to read her very soul.</p> + +<p>"You have come to the wrong person, child," she said, speaking not +unkindly; "I know little of the One you name."</p> + +<p>"But you were singing about Him," urged little Molly. "'I know that my +Redeemer liveth'—I heard the words as plain as could be."</p> + +<p>"I dare say you did," returned the singer, "but I don't often think of +the meaning of the words I sing; and this sort of music is not much in +my line. I am only practising it to-day, because I've promised to take +part in a concert to-morrow, in place of a friend of mine, who is ill."</p> + +<p>Molly gazed at her with a face expressive of the deepest disappointment.</p> + +<p>"Come, child, don't look so sorry," said the lady, touched with pity; +"have you no father nor mother, who can teach you what you want to +know?"</p> + +<p>"Father and mother are both dead," replied Molly; "I've no one but +Kathleen to teach me anything, and Kathleen says she don't believe it's +true about the Lord Jesus."</p> + +<p>"And who is Kathleen?" asked the lady.</p> + +<p>"Kathleen's my sister," said Molly, proudly. "But you mustn't think +she's like me," she made haste to add. "She's as different as can be. +Kathleen is tall and straight, and her face is so pretty. No one would +take us for sisters."</p> + +<p>"Is she older than you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; she is fifteen, and acts at a theatre. I saw her acting +once, and I can tell you it was grand. But although I'm younger than +Kathleen, father told me that I was to take care of her. I always go to +the theatre every night to bring her home, because father did not like +her to walk through the streets alone."</p> + +<p>"Poor girl!" sighed the singer, involuntarily. "Has she no one but you +to protect her? And you say that she is pretty, too. Ah! Poor girl!"</p> + +<p>"No, there's no one but me to take care of her," replied Molly; "and +I'm such a poor little thing. That's why I was glad to hear at the +mission hall about the Lord Jesus. I thought He would be our Friend, +and watch over us. But Ned Jones says it's not true about Him, only +a make-believe. So now I don't go to the mission hall, for I don't +want to hear about Him, if it's not true. I thought you'd be able to +tell me, ma'am, when I heard you sing. But I must go now. I'm sorry I +disturbed you."</p> + +<p>And with a sigh, Molly turned to the door.</p> + +<p>"Stay, little girl," cried the lady, suddenly, "come here and listen to +what I have to say. I can't tell you much about these things, for I'm +not at all good myself, but I do know one thing. I know that it 'is' +true about the Lord Jesus."</p> + +<p>"Oh, is it really? Please tell me how you know!" cried Molly, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"I know it, Molly, because I had a good father," said the lady, and her +voice quivered as she spoke; "and my father loved and served the Lord +Jesus. Oh, when I remember my father's holy life, I 'know' that it's +all true!"</p> + +<p>"But don't you love the Lord, too?" asked Molly, with a look of wonder +on her face.</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't ask that, child, if you knew how wicked I am," replied +the singer, rising suddenly from the piano and walking to the other +side of the room. "I'm so bad that I scarcely dared to take those +sacred words into my lips. Often have I tried to persuade myself that +the Bible was not true—that there was no God, and no hereafter. I +should have been glad to deny it all. But it was of no use. I could not +help believing. Something within my heart always said that it was true."</p> + +<p>There were tears in her eyes as she spoke, but she would not give way +to emotion. Dashing away her tears, and turning again to the child, +she said, brusquely: "You must go now, child. I've no more time for +talking. I advise you to go again to the mission hall, and hear what +the minister says, for it's all true, depend upon it."</p> + +<p>Molly's face brightened at these words. She stepped to the door, but +paused with her hand on the latch. The child felt drawn to this lady, +who had spoken to her so kindly. She had seen the tears in her eyes, +and she longed to comfort her.</p> + +<p>"What will 'you' do, ma'am?" she asked, timidly. "Don't 'you' want to +go to the mission hall, and hear about the Lord Jesus?"</p> + +<p>The warm colour came back to the lady's face, but she responded +quickly: "No, child, no: my day for that sort of thing has gone by. Now +run away. You may come and see me again some day, but I cannot talk to +you longer now."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image019" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image019.jpg" alt="image019"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image020" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image020.jpg" alt="image020"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_8">CHAPTER VIII.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>MOLLY HAS A TALK WITH HER MINISTER.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THE singer's advice was not thrown away upon Molly, for that very +evening she went to the mission hall. Special services were being +held there every night of this week. Molly had longed to go to these +services, but the recollection of Ned's words, and the resolution she +had formed on that Sunday morning when sorely wounded in spirit she had +turned away from the grand church in Albion Square, had sufficed to +keep her away.</p> + +<p>Now, however, she went with a hopeful heart. Not that she could at once +cast away her doubts. Her nature differed from that of most children. +The mind which dwelt in that tiny, stunted form was far too old for its +years, and this anxious, questioning mind was not to be satisfied with +a mere word.</p> + +<p>Yet it was a great thing to have heard a grown-up woman declare so +positively that it was true that the Saviour lived, even whilst it +appeared that she did not love the Lord of whose existence she was +certain. The singer's declaration was a powerful antidote to those +words of Ned, which had so shaken Molly's mind.</p> + +<p>So Molly went to the mission hall, prepared to pay earnest heed to the +words that were spoken there. Great was her joy when she perceived +that the preacher this night was none other than "her" minister. Again +she looked upon his pleasant face, and traced its resemblance to that +of the Good Shepherd in the picture, and again she listened with rapt +attention to his thrilling words, as he told the old, old story of the +Saviour's love.</p> + +<p>The weather all day had been close and sultry, and in the narrow +streets and crowded homes of the neighbourhood the heat was well-nigh +stifling. As evening fell, a tempest broke over the city, and the +preacher's concluding words were lost in a crash of thunder.</p> + +<p>The hall had grown dark in the gathering gloom, but now it was fitfully +illuminated by the lightning's gleams. Awe and terror fell upon the +assembled people.</p> + +<p>They looked at one another in consternation. Some women screamed, and +those whose homes were nearest, hastened from the hall. The minister +tried to calm their fears by a few assuring words, and then with a +brief prayer brought the service to an end.</p> + +<p>There followed a scene of confusion. For a time the storm was so severe +that few ventured to quit the hall. The minister left his desk, and +coming into the midst of the frightened people talked cheeringly to +them.</p> + +<p>Molly crept near to him, and looked up in his face. She had no fear of +the storm. It pleased her to listen to the mighty roar of the thunder, +and to have her eyes dazzled by the fiery lightning. She was glad of +this opportunity of looking more closely upon her minister, and hearing +more words from his lips. She would have liked to speak to him, but was +too shy to make any effort to attract his notice.</p> + +<p>Whilst she waited, the fury of the storm gradually abated, and in spite +of the torrents of rain which fell, the congregation soon dispersed. +Molly went to the door, but there she lingered. It was not fear of the +rain which kept her there. She was too used to getting wet through as +she went about the streets to think much of that.</p> + +<p>She stood on the step with the droppings from the roof falling upon +her, and tried to gather courage to speak to the minister as he came +out. He looked so kind and good, she need not fear to address him, she +thought.</p> + +<p>Peeping round the door-post, Molly watched him as he stood saying a few +words to the woman who took care of the hall. Her heart beat fast as +she heard him bid the woman good-night, and saw him coming towards the +door; but desire made her bold.</p> + +<p>The minister was looking so intently at the clouds that he did not +observe the little figure standing on the step. Umbrella in hand, he +was debating whether he should venture into the rain or wait till the +shower was over, when he was surprised by the touch of a cold little +hand, and a shrill voice, trembling with eagerness, said:</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, how do you know that it's all real true?"</p> + +<p>He turned and saw by his side a tiny child, clad in thin and ragged +garments. His heart was touched with pity as he noted the weak, +deformed little body, and met the earnest gaze of Molly's sad, dark +eyes, looking unnaturally large and brilliant, in contrast to the wee, +wasted face in which they were set.</p> + +<p>"Who are you, my child?" he asked gently. "And what do you want with +me?"</p> + +<p>"I'm Molly Macardie," she answered simply, "and I want to know if it's +all real true about Jesus Christ, and if He does really love us and +care for us, as you say."</p> + +<p>"All real true about Jesus Christ!" repeated the minister, wonderingly. +"Assuredly it is, my child. Who has been telling you otherwise?"</p> + +<p>"Ned Jones says it's nothing but a make-believe," asserted Molly; "and +Kathleen, my sister, says she don't believe there's any one loves us, +as you say Jesus does. I was so sorry to hear them say such things, +because I liked to think about Jesus, and to come here and hear about +Him."</p> + +<p>"I see," said the minister kindly, as he drew her inside the hall; "so +you want me to tell you how I know it to be true about the Lord Jesus?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's it, sir," said Molly, eagerly; "I knew you could tell +me, and you looked so kind and good, just like the Son of man in the +picture, that I thought I wouldn't be afraid to ask you."</p> + +<p>"Not like the Son of man, child," returned the minister, with a sigh, +as his eyes followed the direction of hers, and rested on the picture +of the Good Shepherd. "I'm far from being that. But now tell me more +about yourself, Molly, that I may know how I can best help you. Who is +this Ned Jones?"</p> + +<p>And sitting down, and giving the child a seat near him, he drew from +her the story of her strange little life. Molly's shyness vanished +before his kind manner, and she told him freely all about herself. She +talked to him of the lovely sister whose sole guardian she was, and of +the father who on his death-bed had begged her to take care of that +sister.</p> + +<p>Tears dimmed the minister's eyes as he listened to her artless words. +And when he spoke, his voice was full of pity. "And have you no one +to take care of you, my poor child; not a single friend to show you +kindness?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Jones is kind in her way," said Molly, "but Kathleen says we must +not trust too much to her, for she'd turn us away to-morrow if we could +not pay the rent. We've no one else to look after us. That is why I was +so glad to hear that the Lord Jesus would be our Friend, and watch over +us."</p> + +<p>"And He will be; He is your Friend," said the minister, solemnly. "He +does watch over you. Do not doubt it, little Molly."</p> + +<p>The child's face brightened, but there was still a questioning look in +her eyes.</p> + +<p>"You want me to tell you how I know that it is so," said the minister, +anticipating her question. "Well, the best proof I can give you is that +drawn from my own experience. I know that Jesus lives, because I have +found Him my Friend and Saviour. You see that picture, Molly, of the +Shepherd with the lamb in His arms?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Molly, as her eyes sought it.</p> + +<p>"That lamb had wandered from the fold. It was lost on the dark +mountains amidst slippery slopes and dangerous precipices, and must +have perished, had not the Shepherd gone forth into the darkness to +seek it, and never rested till He had it in His arms. Molly, I was once +lost like that lamb."</p> + +<p>"You?" repeated Molly, in amazement. "You lost like that lamb?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the minister slowly; "when I was young, I went astray like +a lost sheep. I wandered far, far from God. I was lost in the darkness, +living without God and without hope in the world. But the Good Shepherd +would not leave me thus. He sought me and brought me home. I found in +Jesus a Saviour and a Friend, and His love has never failed me yet. +I have been too ready to leave His side, but He has never forsaken +me—never. So now, Molly, knowing what a friend Jesus has been to me, I +am not afraid to tell you to trust Him."</p> + +<p>"But are you sure He will be my Friend?" asked the child, anxiously. "I +daresay He loves you, and the pretty, smart little girls, but I don't +see that He can care for an ugly, crooked little thing like me."</p> + +<p>The minister smiled sadly as he replied: "He does love you, Molly. +There is no respect of persons with Him. Tell me, my child, do you +think that your mother, if she had lived, would have loved you the less +on account of your weakness?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," replied Molly, promptly; "of course I do. It ain't possible +that she could have loved me as she loved Kathleen."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Child, you do not know a mother's heart," said the minister. "A +true mother bestows her tenderest love and care on her most feeble +child. I believe, Molly, that your weakness would have secured you the +first place in your mother's heart. But I am sure of this—that the Lord +Jesus only loves you the more because you are lonely and weak.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "'He gathers the lambs in His arms, and carries them in His bosom.'"<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am so glad!" cried Molly, clasping her hands in delight. "I'm so +glad that Jesus loves me! I'm so glad that you say it's all real true. +I won't mind anything that Ned Jones says again!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, it's all true," said the minister; "and the Lord Himself +will teach you so, if you let Him. You cannot be sure of His love +unless you come to Him and give Him the trust of your heart. The +Shepherd could not save the lamb if it persisted in keeping away from +Him, and no one can know the Lord by merely looking at Him from a +distance, or judging Him by those who call themselves His friends. You +must pray to Him, little Molly, and look to Him every day for guidance +and strength, and He will help you and bless you!"</p> + +<p>"I 'will' pray to Him," said Molly. "I will ask Him every day to take +care of me and Kathleen, and to make us good!"</p> + +<p>"I will tell you a little prayer you may use if ever again you feel +inclined to doubt the Lord's goodness because of anything others may +say to you. It was uttered by one who came to Jesus when He was on +earth—a poor man who longed to believe, yet could not as he would.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "'Lord, I believe; help Thou my unbelief,'<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>"he said; and the Lord heard his cry and had mercy on him. Can you +remember the words?"</p> + +<p>"'Lord, I believe; help Thou my unbelief,'" repeated Molly.</p> + +<p>"Make that your prayer, my dear child, if ever again you find it hard +to believe that it's all true about the Lord Jesus. And now you must +run home, for it is getting late—too late for a child like you to be in +the streets. Tell me where you live, and I will come and see you and +your sister."</p> + +<p>Molly readily described the street in which she lived, then, bidding +the minister good-night, she hastened away with a light heart, not +turning homewards, as he supposed, but taking her way through the wet +streets to the theatre, where she would meet her sister.</p> + +<p>The minister watched her with a look of pity as she ran through the +rain, to which her thin garments could offer but slight resistance.</p> + +<p>He had a little daughter at home of the same age as Molly, and the +thought of his bright-eyed, rosy-checked Nelly made his heart very +tender towards this poor desolate child.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image021" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image021.jpg" alt="image021"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image022" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image022.jpg" alt="image022"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_9">CHAPTER IX.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>THE REST OF FAITH.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>LITTLE MOLLY was a happier child after she had had that talk with the +minister. Not that her life was any easier.</p> + +<p>She had still to work so hard that her little bones ached so much that +sometimes she could scarcely sleep at night for the pain. She had still +to bear fretful words and bursts of temper from Kathleen, who reserved +her bright looks and pleasant words for her companions at the theatre, +and seldom spoke kindly to Molly.</p> + +<p>But Molly knew now that Jesus loved her. Every day and many times in +the day she prayed to the Saviour, and she was sure that He heard her. +She began to read her Testament once more with renewed delight. The +Holy Spirit taught her the meaning of what she read, and gave her such +a sense of the grace and love of the Lord Jesus as filled her young +soul with a light which no shadow of doubt could dispel.</p> + +<p>"You and your uncle, clever though he is, are both wrong in saying this +book is not true," she said to Ned Jones, one day. "I have had a talk +with the minister, and he has made me know that it is true. I am sure +now that the Lord Jesus loves me and Kathleen, and will take care of +us. And oh! It makes me so happy!"</p> + +<p>And Ned Jones, as he saw the glad light which shone in the child's +eyes, had not a word to say in reply. His faith in his uncle's wisdom +was shaken. Might not little Molly be right, after all?</p> + +<p>There came to his mind some words he had heard, he knew not where; they +were these:</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "Thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast +revealed them unto babes."<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>Ned was resolved he would never breathe another word of doubt to little +Molly.</p> + +<p>The minister's promise to visit her was not forgotten by Molly. Day by +day she looked for his coming, and every spare moment was devoted to +making the tiny attic look as clean as possible for his reception.</p> + +<p>Kathleen laughed to see how Molly scrubbed and polished, yet even +Kathleen was excited at the prospect of the gentleman's visit. It was +such a new thing for any one to take an interest in them. Molly's great +fear was lest the minister should come when she was away from home. +Every day, when she returned from her morning's toil, she questioned +Mrs. Jones as to whether a gentleman had been there.</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Jones constantly returned the same answer. And as day after +day went by and the minister did not come, Molly began to fear +disappointment.</p> + +<p>The fear deepened as days grew into weeks, and weeks into months, and +yet he did not come. And as the hope of his coming died out of Molly's +heart, her disappointment was keen.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe he ever meant to come," said Kathleen, contemptuously.</p> + +<p>But Molly could not believe this, though her heart was very sore at his +non-fulfilment of his promise.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>It was a pity she could not know why he had failed to come. When the +minister reached his home that evening, after parting with little Molly +at the mission hall, he found trouble awaiting him there. His little +Nelly had suddenly been taken ill. There was a physician in attendance, +whose grave demeanour bespoke the presence of danger. Hours passed on, +and the child grew no better.</p> + +<p>The drear words, "No hope!" were spoken. And after lingering in +suffering for two or three days, the young spirit passed to the home +above.</p> + +<p>No wonder that in days of such anxiety and sorrow, Molly should be +forgotten.</p> + +<p>When at length the minister thought of her, he could not remember the +name of the street in which the child had said she lived.</p> + +<p>There was no time then to seek her. The summer season had worn to its +close, and all well-to-do people were hastening to escape from the dust +and glare of London to the bracing breezes which blow by the sea-shore.</p> + +<p>It was desirable that he should, without delay, take his sorrowing wife +and children to seek the soothing influences of fresh air and change +of scene. So, reluctantly, the minister was forced to postpone his +promised visit to little Molly. And, commending her to the care of the +Good Shepherd, he went away.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Molly's friend, Madame Ganelli, was also out of town at this time, and +many weeks passed ere she again saw her. Then one day, soon after her +return to London, the singer called Molly to her room, and showed her +a discarded dress, which she intended to convert into a frock for the +child.</p> + +<p>Molly was not a little delighted at the prospect of having a new frock +in place of the shabby one she wore, and she thanked the lady heartily +for her kindness.</p> + +<p>Their talk was all about the dress, till just as Molly was going away, +the lady said, "Well, how about the mission hall? Have you been there +again?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes!" cried Molly, her face lighting up. "Oh yes and I spoke to +the minister, and he was so kind. I am quite, quite sure now that it's +all real true about the Lord Jesus. He loves me and Kathleen, and you, +ma'am, and everybody!"</p> + +<p>"Does He love me, Molly?" said the lady in a low tone, turning away her +face as she spoke. "I'm not so sure of that."</p> + +<p>"But it's true—real true!" declared Molly. "Do you think your mother +loved you, ma'am?" she asked, after a moment's silence.</p> + +<p>Madame Ganelli started at the question.</p> + +<p>"Do I think my mother loved me?" she repeated, in a tone which vibrated +with quick emotion. "Ay, that she did! Would that she had not loved me +so well! It was love for me that broke her heart!"</p> + +<p>"I've heard the minister say that Jesus loves us better than even a +mother could," said little Molly. "He died for us because He loved us +so!"</p> + +<p>"I wish I could feel sure that He loves me," said the singer, "but I am +so wicked, and I've led such a bad life!"</p> + +<p>"He'll make you good if you ask Him," said Molly, confidently.</p> + +<p>"Will you ask Him for me, child?" said the lady. "When you pray for +yourself and Kathleen, will you pray for me, too?"</p> + +<p>Molly nodded.</p> + +<p>"I'll be sure to," she said. "But oh! ma'am, won't you ask Him +yourself? He'll hear you if you speak ever so low."</p> + +<p>But Madame Ganelli made no reply. And thinking she had stayed too long, +Molly went down-stairs.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image023" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image023.jpg" alt="image023"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image024" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image024.jpg" alt="image024"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_10">CHAPTER X.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>KATHLEEN IS A SOURCE OF GRAVE ANXIETY.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THE autumn months proved wet and dreary. Winter with its sharp frosts +and chilling mists set in early, and Molly was thankful for the warm +frock which her kind friend had provided for her.</p> + +<p>Kathleen was now fully engaged at the theatre. But Molly reaped small +advantage from her increased earnings, for her sister loved to squander +her money in useless finery.</p> + +<p>Little Molly was growing more and more uneasy on her sister's account. +She scarcely knew what it was that she feared, but she had a vague +notion that Kathleen's character was suffering from her connection with +the theatre, and the associates she found there. It was in vain Molly +tried to speak of the Saviour to Kathleen. She only laughed at Molly's +"pious" ways, and refused to hear a word of what she called "cant."</p> + +<p>How could Molly guard her sister from evil? There was one way, and only +one way, in which she could help Kathleen.</p> + +<p>She was weak and helpless, but the unseen Friend was strong and mighty. +Surely Jesus would take care of Kathleen; and in faith that He would, +the child daily confided her sister to the Saviour's care.</p> + +<p>Kathleen had no idea of the anxiety with which Molly's heart was +burdened on her account. She was in excellent spirits at this time, +cherishing bright though delusive visions of a happy future.</p> + +<p>Once or twice she dropped hints of a delightful secret which Molly did +not share, and seemed ever in a flutter of excitement and gaiety. Molly +wondered at her sister's manner, and could not understand it. But at +last, its meaning was explained.</p> + +<p>"Look, Molly!" cried Kathleen, in a joyous tone one night, when +they had come back from the theatre, and had just parted from Mr. +Vavasour—"Look here!" And she held up to view a beautiful pair of pearl +earrings.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Kathleen, what pretty things!" cried Molly, in surprise. "Where +did you get them?"</p> + +<p>"I neither found them nor stole them," returned her sister, +triumphantly. "Mr. Vavasour gave them to me. Isn't he kind?"</p> + +<p>"They are very pretty," said Molly. Yet somehow she did not like them +so well, when she heard who had given them.</p> + +<p>"How do they look?" asked Kathleen, as she fitted them into her ears, +which had long been bare of such ornaments.</p> + +<p>Molly was forced to confess that they looked very grand indeed.</p> + +<p>"Ain't they splendid?" exclaimed Kathleen, as she peered into the +little cracked looking-glass, which was the only mirror the sisters +could boast. "Oh, Molly, wouldn't it be nice to be a rich lady, and +have money to buy lots of lovely things?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I'd like to be a lady," said little Molly. "I know what I'd do +if I were rich," she added, softly; "I'd find out all the poor little +girls that hadn't no fathers nor mothers to take care of them, and I'd +give them warm clothes to wear, and nice things to eat and drink, and +I'd be ever so good to them."</p> + +<p>"But wouldn't you like to buy yourself silk frocks and laces and +feathers?" asked Kathleen.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," replied Molly; "all the gay clothes in the world +wouldn't make much difference to my looks, I guess; so it wouldn't be +any use my buying them, you see."</p> + +<p>"But I should look well in them," cried Kathleen; "and I can tell you, +Molly, I mean to be a lady some day, and that before very long."</p> + +<p>"'You' a lady!" exclaimed Molly, opening her eyes wide. "What do you +mean, Kathleen?"</p> + +<p>"I will tell you," said Kathleen. "I've wanted to tell you for days, +but I didn't like. Now, Molly, you must not cry or make a fuss. I'm +going to leave you."</p> + +<p>Molly could not believe her ears.</p> + +<p>"To leave me!" she exclaimed, in amazement. "How? When? I don't +understand."</p> + +<p>"I am going to leave you to-morrow," returned her sister, with cruel +distinctness. "I am going away to learn to be a first-rate actress. +There's a fine time before me. I shall be quite a lady, and wear pretty +dresses, and have plenty of nice things to eat and drink. Mr. Vavasour +has arranged it all; he's so good to me, is Mr. Vavasour. He has set +his heart on seeing me a splendid actress. What is the matter, Molly? +Why do you look like that?"</p> + +<p>Molly's face had grown very pale, and there was a look in her eyes +which Kathleen could not bear to see.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Kathleen, you cannot mean it?" she exclaimed, coming close to her +sister and clasping her tightly, as though she would never let her go. +"You cannot mean to go and leave me—me, Molly, your little sister, who +has no one else to love her? Oh, Kathleen, you cannot do it!"</p> + +<p>"But, Molly, it is for my good, and for your good, too, in the end," +said Kathleen. "Think what a fine thing it is for me. I shall learn to +be a splendid actress, and then I shall earn heaps of money. And I am +not going away from you altogether. I shall come and see you sometimes, +and bring you some of the money I earn. Mr. Vavasour kept saying what a +good thing it would be for you as well as for me. You would not have me +give up such a fine chance, surely?"</p> + +<p>"Not if it was really for your good," said Molly, tremulously; "but oh, +Kathleen, I can't believe it. I don't like that Mr. Vavasour: he looks +a horrid bad man. I wouldn't trust what he says, if I were you."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Molly, what can you know of him?" was Kathleen's quick +retort. "I can tell you he is a good friend to me."</p> + +<p>"Do you think father would have liked you to make a friend of Mr. +Vavasour?" asked Molly.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," replied Kathleen. But her heightened colour seemed to +show that she did know.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm sure father would not have liked it," said Molly, earnestly; +"and he would not have liked you to leave me. He said I was always to +take care of you; and how can I take care of you if you go away?"</p> + +<p>"Don't talk rubbish!" returned Kathleen. "I'm quite old enough now to +take care of myself."</p> + +<p>"But what shall I do all alone?" urged Molly. "Won't you think of that, +Kathleen?"</p> + +<p>"You'll manage well enough," said her sister, looking away from Molly +as she uttered the unkind words.</p> + +<p>Molly's heart failed her, and she burst into tears.</p> + +<p>"Now, don't cry like that!" exclaimed Kathleen, in a tone which +betrayed some emotion. "It's all settled, and can't be altered, so it's +of no use to make a fuss. I don't like leaving you, but there's no help +for it. I asked Mr. Vavasour if I could not take you with me, but he +said that was impossible. I'll come and see you as often as ever I can, +and bring you lots of nice things; so cheer up."</p> + +<p>But Molly could not cheer up. How could she bear to think of Kathleen's +leaving her? What would life be worth to her without Kathleen? She +could not picture to herself the desolation that would follow.</p> + +<p>Her tears fell fast, till Kathleen, weary of seeing her weep, proposed +that they should go to bed. They slowly undressed, and lay down +side by side; both with heavy hearts, for Kathleen felt many gloomy +forebodings, in spite of the bright anticipations she had professed.</p> + +<p>Then, in the darkness, Molly confided her sorrow to the unseen Friend, +trying to believe that He would help her in this sore trouble. It +seemed as if everything were going wrong; yet surely He could set all +right. But would He?</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "'Lord, I believe: help Thou my unbelief,'" prayed little Molly.<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>Comfort came with prayer. The load which pressed upon her heart was +lightened: she ceased to sob, and was fast forgetting her sorrow in +sleep, when she felt Kathleen's arm softly stealing around her.</p> + +<p>"Molly," Kathleen whispered, "I'm real sorry to leave you, but it can't +be helped now. You've been a good little sister to me, and I love you; +I do indeed, for all I've so often been cross with you. Kiss me, Molly."</p> + +<p>Molly turned in a moment, and throwing her arms about her sister's neck +kissed her again and again. Then nestling close together, the two poor +children fell asleep.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image025" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image025.jpg" alt="image025"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_11">CHAPTER XI.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>A SISTER'S DANGER.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"NOW, Molly, remember you are not to meet me at the theatre to-night. +There's no need, as I shall not be coming back here again," said +Kathleen to her sister the next morning. She spoke sharply. The emotion +she had shown on the previous night was no longer visible in word or +look.</p> + +<p>Molly was about to set off for her morning's work at the +boarding-house. She started at her sister's words, and turned towards +her with a beseeching look:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Kathleen, let me come," she pleaded; "you know I promised father."</p> + +<p>"No, you must not come. I will not have you come. Do you understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but oh, Kathleen! I 'must' come. I cannot stay away."</p> + +<p>"How tiresome you are Molly!" exclaimed Kathleen, and in sudden anger +she raised her hand and struck Molly in the face.</p> + +<p>Molly shrunk back—her face crimson, her heart throbbing.</p> + +<p>Never would Kathleen forget the look of pain and reproach with which +her little sister quitted the room and went off to her work.</p> + +<p>That look haunted Kathleen during the rest of the day. For the first +time, it struck her how pale and thin Molly had looked of late. A small +sickly child she had ever been, but surely she had not before looked +so ill as she now did? A pang of compunction visited Kathleen, as she +reflected how completely she had failed to cherish her little sister.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Molly went about her work that morning with an aching heart. The +recollection of Kathleen's loving words as she bade her good-night, +made it easy for her to forgive the hasty blow. But the thought of the +coming separation and her fears for her sister's future rendered her +most unhappy.</p> + +<p>Madame Ganelli, meeting the child on the stairs, was struck with the +woebegone expression of her little face.</p> + +<p>"Why, what is the matter with you, Molly?" she exclaimed. "You look +as if you were suffering all the woes of the world. And what is the +meaning of that red mark on your forehead? Have you had a fall?"</p> + +<p>Thus questioned, Molly could only cry.</p> + +<p>Madame Ganelli saw that something had gone seriously wrong with her +little friend.</p> + +<p>"Come in here, child," she said, opening the door of her own room; +"come in here, and tell me quietly what it is that troubles you."</p> + +<p>For some minutes Molly's sobs prevented her from speaking. But at last, +growing calmer, she was able to explain Kathleen's intention of leaving +her, and the distress it gave her.</p> + +<p>Madame Ganelli listened in silence till Molly mentioned Mr. Vavasour's +name. At the sound of that name, the lady started and turned pale.</p> + +<p>"Vavasour, did you say!" she exclaimed. "Tell me, do you mean the man +acting under that name at the S— Theatre?"</p> + +<p>Molly nodded.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear! Oh dear!" cried the singer, greatly agitated. "You must not +let your sister have anything to say to that man, you must not indeed, +my child! I know him well; he is a bad, unprincipled man!"</p> + +<p>"I knew it!" cried Molly. "I was sure that he was bad, but Kathleen +would not listen to me. Oh! What shall I do?"</p> + +<p>"You must save her from that man at whatever cost!" said Madame +Ganelli, solemnly. "Beseech her, as she values her own soul, to shun +his friendship. Do not let her out of your sight, Molly; and if he +should persist in annoying her, just name me to him, and see what +effect that will have. I would go with you to the theatre and confront +him, but I am obliged to sing at a concert to-night; and even now I +have an engagement for which I shall be too late if I stay another +moment. But oh, Molly! Pay heed to my words—you must save your sister +from that man!"</p> + +<p>"I will! I will!" cried Molly, earnestly, as the lady hastened away.</p> + +<p>Trembling and frightened, Molly went back to her work. It was hard to +do it with such anxiety and fear working in her heart. But she prayed +to the unseen Friend, and He gave her the strength she needed.</p> + +<p>She was thankful when the hour of dismissal came, and she was free to +run home. It was a cold, cheerless day, but Molly ran home so fast +that she was hot and breathless when she reached the house. Hurrying +up the stairs, she opened the door of the attic, only to find, to her +surprise, that Kathleen was not there.</p> + +<p>"She will be in soon," thought Molly, though her heart sunk within her.</p> + +<p>She began to prepare dinner, but she might have spared herself the +trouble, for the dinner-hour came and went, and time passed on, yet +Kathleen did not come. Fearing further reproaches and pleadings from +Molly, she chose to walk about the streets, and make her dinner of a +hot pie, rather than face her sister.</p> + +<p>Her absence made Molly very uneasy. Too heart-sick to eat, she sat and +waited, growing faint and weary and more and more anxious as the hours +went on. She would have gone out to seek her sister, but feared to miss +her by so doing, and she wished to lose no time in warning Kathleen +against Mr. Vavasour.</p> + +<p>After a while, Molly went to Mrs. Jones, and asked if she could tell +her at what hour Kathleen had gone out, and whether she had left any +message. But Mrs. Jones knew nothing of Kathleen's movements. She had +not seen the girl all day.</p> + +<p>So, with growing anxiety, Molly went back to her lonely attic.</p> + +<p>She must save her sister, Madame Ganelli had said, but how was she to +do it? She did not even know where Kathleen was at this hour. Oh! She +would do anything, anything to save Kathleen from evil, but it seemed +beyond her power.</p> + +<p>There was One, however, who could help her. Surely the Lord Jesus would +save Kathleen. He knew where she was. His eye was upon her. He could +defend her from harm. And, falling on her knees, Molly entreated the +Lord to have pity upon Kathleen!</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image026" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image026.jpg" alt="image026"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_12">CHAPTER XII.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>KATHLEEN IS SAVED.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>DAY faded into night, but Kathleen did not come. It grew so late that +Molly, feeling certain that her sister could not intend to return home +before going to the theatre, resolved to go thither in search of her.</p> + +<p>She put on her cloak and hat and went down-stairs. An icy wind, laden +with tiny snowflakes, blew in her face as she opened the house door. It +was a dreary night. Already the pavements were white, and the gloomy +sky, without a star, threatened more snow.</p> + +<p>But Molly was not to be deterred by the weather. She hurried along, +bravely struggling with the fierce wind, which took away her breath, +and drove her backwards.</p> + +<p>Once she slipped and fell, but scarce conscious of her bruises, picked +herself up, and hurried on. She reached the theatre at last, but looked +in vain for Kathleen, who was already within the building. As she stood +at the side door, she asked some of the players who passed her if she +might see her sister for a few minutes before the play began. But they +said they did not know, and advised her to wait or to come again when +the theatre closed.</p> + +<p>Molly would not go away, lest she should miss some chance of saving her +sister.</p> + +<p>It was painful waiting in that bitter cold. The child's limbs grew +numb, and to warm them she began to walk to and fro in front of the +theatre. On such a rough night, the playgoers were few. But Molly saw +some carriages drive up, and their occupants, warmly muffled, alight, +and hurry into the theatre. Amongst these was a young lady with whose +appearance Molly was particularly struck. She was a dark handsome girl, +whose bright face bore a strong resemblance to Kathleen's.</p> + +<p>She wore elegant and costly attire, such as Kathleen coveted, and was +accompanied by a gentleman who was evidently her father.</p> + +<p>Molly noted the loving care with which he helped his daughter from the +carriage, and took her into the hall.</p> + +<p>The sight gave Molly a pang of envy—not on her account, but on that of +her sister.</p> + +<p>Why should that girl be so loved and guarded, whilst Kathleen, equally +pretty and graceful, was all alone in the world, with no one to protect +her from danger, save her weak and helpless little sister? Was it fair? +Why did God suffer such differences to be? Could He not make things +more equal, if He liked? It seemed as if He did not care. Was it indeed +true that there was One who loved the poor and friendless?</p> + +<p>Once more, the old doubt stirred in Molly's heart, but she would not +give it place.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "'Lord, I believe; help Thou my unbelief!'" she cried.<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>And faith grew strong again.</p> + +<p>But soon it began to snow in real earnest, and the misery of Molly's +situation was doubled. The snow covered her like a cloud, and wetted +her to the skin. She must have perished of cold, had not a cabman, who +had been watching her as she wandered up and down, taken compassion on +her.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you go home, little girl?" he called to her. "You'll be +frozen if you stay here in the snow."</p> + +<p>"I can't go home," said Molly; "I'm waiting for my sister, who's in the +theatre."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean that she's gone in and left you outside," said the +cabman. "That is a shame."</p> + +<p>"She did not know; she could not help it," explained Molly. "She is one +of the dancers, and I must wait till she comes out."</p> + +<p>"Dear me, that's a pity," said the man; "it's not fit for a little +child like you to be in the streets to-night. But come and sit in my +cab; you'll be a little warmer here."</p> + +<p>Molly gladly availed herself of this invitation. She got into the cab, +and the man piled the straw about her feet and ankles, and wrapped a +rug around her. Then he ran to a coffee-stall close by, and came back +with a steaming cup of coffee, which he made Molly drink. It brought +a warmer colour to her blue, pinched little face; her teeth ceased to +chatter and her limbs to shake, and she soon declared herself quite +warm.</p> + +<p>"You do look a bit better," said the friendly cabman, "but now tell me, +child, what can your mother be thinking of to let you out such a night +as this?"</p> + +<p>"I've got no mother," said Molly. "Mother and father are both dead. +I've no one but Kathleen."</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear!" returned the man, with a look of pity. "Only to think of +it! Why, I've got a little girl of my own at home, and I wouldn't let +her be out such a night as this, not if the Queen herself was to order +it, that I wouldn't."</p> + +<p>"I shall not get far to-night, I reckon," he said, after a time. "I was +to be at the side door at half-past ten and wait for a gentleman. But I +shall want double fare for driving through this snow, if, indeed, I can +drive through it. There, it's half-past ten already, and the people are +beginning to come out, so I must drive round to the door. You want to +go there too, do you? That's right."</p> + +<p>In spite of the cabman's persuasions, Molly now insisted on getting out +of the cab and standing at the door till her sister appeared.</p> + +<p>There was great confusion and uproar as the people came out of the +theatre. Every one seemed to want a cab, and there were few cabs to be +had, and the drivers of these were in no reasonable mood. So shouting +and quarrelling resounded on all sides. Molly's friend grew impatient +because his "fare" did not come. He was talking of driving away, when +the side door opened and two figures appeared. Molly knew them in a +moment—they were Kathleen and Mr. Vavasour.</p> + +<p>"Kathleen, Kathleen!" she cried, springing forward and seizing her +sister's arm.</p> + +<p>"Molly, I told you not to come," said Kathleen, angrily.</p> + +<p>"Kathleen, I have come to save you," said Molly, earnestly. "You must +not trust this man; he is a bad, wicked man. Oh, Kathleen, come home +with me—come home at once."</p> + +<p>And she tried to pull her sister along.</p> + +<p>But as she spoke, her own arm was roughly grasped. "Hold your tongue!" +hissed out Mr. Vavasour, as with cruel force he separated the sisters.</p> + +<p>Pushing Molly back, he helped Kathleen into the cab, and his foot +was upon the step, when the cabman, seeing that something was wrong, +interposed.</p> + +<p>"Stay a minute, if you please, sir," he said. "I must know the meaning +of this before I take you in my cab."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't let him take Kathleen away!" cried Molly, in piteous +distress. "He is a bad cruel man. Madame Ganelli says so."</p> + +<p>At the sound of this name, the man's face grew white with rage.</p> + +<p>"Take that, you wretched little hunchback!" he cried, turning upon +Molly in ungovernable fury, and dealing her a severe blow.</p> + +<p>Blinded and stunned by that blow, Molly staggered back, slipped on the +edge of the pavement, and fell into the road directly in front of the +horse.</p> + +<p>With a cry of fear, the cabman sprang forward, but he was too late. The +animal, startled by Molly's fall, reared wildly for an instant, then +plunged onward, trampling beneath his hoofs the child's unconscious +form.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image027" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image027.jpg" alt="image027"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image028" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image028.jpg" alt="image028"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_13">CHAPTER XIII.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>NO LONGER DESOLATE.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>ERE the horse had run many yards, it was stopped by a passer-by.</p> + +<p>Kathleen sprang out of the cab, and rushed back to the spot where Molly +lay—a dark little heap on the white snow.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vavasour had disappeared.</p> + +<p>The child neither moved nor moaned when they lifted her from the ground.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she is dead, she is dead!" cried Kathleen, in an agony of grief. +"Oh, Molly, Molly, what shall I do?"</p> + +<p>"No, there is life in her yet," said the cabman. "Don't make a noise, +but help me to get her home. Do you live far from here?"</p> + +<p>"Not far—in Church Lane, close to the Edgware Road," replied Kathleen.</p> + +<p>Already a crowd of persons was beginning to collect on the spot. This +crowd attracted the attention of a tall, strongly-built man, wrapt in +a large overcoat, and wearing a travelling cap drawn down comfortably +over his ears, who was coming along on the opposite side of the +road, carrying a carpet-bag in his hand. Seeing that an accident had +occurred, he hastened across the road to inquire what it might be.</p> + +<p>Something in the appearance of this gentleman made the people give +place to him as he pressed into their midst.</p> + +<p>"Are you a doctor, sir?" asked the cabman, as the stranger bent down to +look at the child, whom he was supporting in his arms.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am a doctor," he replied. "Let me see the extent of the +mischief. Are there any bones broken, I wonder? Ah, some ribs +displaced, and there may be injury to the spine, I fear. Where are the +child's friends?"</p> + +<p>"Her sister is here, sir," said the cabman, pointing to Kathleen; "the +poor little girl has no one else belonging to her, I believe. It's a +bad business, and the mean scoundrel who was the cause of it all has +taken himself off, I see. The child lives close by, sir. I was thinking +p'raps I could take her home in my cab?"</p> + +<p>"Just so; I will help you. Now, my good girl, stand aside for a moment."</p> + +<p>And, with the aid of this kind stranger, Molly was lifted into the cab +and slowly conveyed through the snow-cumbered streets to the place she +called her home.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Jones, the landlady, was thrown into a flutter of excitement when +she learned what had happened to her little lodger. Her best feelings +came to the fore, and she bustled about, and did all she could to help +in the sad emergency. The gentleman who had accompanied the child home +was surgeon on board a steamship lying in the London Docks on its +return from Australia. He was as kind as he was skilful, and handled +the young sufferer with the utmost tenderness.</p> + +<p>It was impossible, he said, to ascertain at present the full extent +of her injuries. On the morrow he should be able to speak with more +certainty, but it seemed to him a most serious case. When he had done +all he could for poor Molly, he took his departure, promising to come +again early the next morning.</p> + +<p>"What is your name?" he asked Kathleen, as he went out of the room.</p> + +<p>"Kathleen Macardie," she said.</p> + +<p>"And you have neither father nor mother?"</p> + +<p>"No, they are both dead."</p> + +<p>"Macardie! Macardie!" said the surgeon to himself, as he went away. +"Strange that this girl's name should be the same as that of my +pleasant fellow-traveller. What was it that he said about wanting to +find a brother, who had two little girls? Can it be possible that +these children are the same? Surely not. And yet I remember he said +he had been away from England so long that he could scarcely know if +his friends were dead or alive. It's hardly likely to be as I imagine. +But still, if I see him at the hotel to-night, I will tell him of the +coincidence."</p> + +<p>Throughout that night, Kathleen kept watch beside her sister. For many +hours Molly continued in a state of insensibility.</p> + +<p>Once Kathleen fancied she heard Molly murmur her name. But when she +spoke in reply, her fond words awakened no response.</p> + +<p>Unhappy indeed were Kathleen's thoughts as she watched. How she blamed +herself as the cause of what had happened, and with what remorse she +reflected on the unkindness and neglect with which she had treated her +sister!</p> + +<p>Her self-reproach grew keener on the following day, when Madame +Ganelli, alarmed at Molly's non-appearance at the boarding-house, came +to inquire for her.</p> + +<p>The singer listened sorrowfully to Kathleen's account of what had +happened. Then in return, she confided to the girl a story of wrong +and cruelty, which showed the true nature of the man in whom she had +been so ready to trust. Kathleen understood now from what deadly peril +her faithful little sister had saved her. Bitter tears of grief and +shame did she shed as she looked on Molly's pale, sad face, as she lay +unconscious of the love which wept over her.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>The doctor arrived at an early hour the next morning, and to +Kathleen's surprise, he brought a friend with him. His companion was a +homely-looking man of medium height, and strong, square frame, whose +honest sunburnt face bespoke a kind, true heart. As the stranger +entered the room, Kathleen was reminded of her father, yet why she +could not tell, for this strong, sturdy man was after all very unlike +him.</p> + +<p>But she was too anxious to hear the doctor's opinion of Molly's state +to think twice of the subtle resemblance she had perceived.</p> + +<p>Molly still lay in a stupor, but the doctor's touch aroused her. Her +eyes slowly opened and gazed at him with a look of terror, whilst she +cried out in a sharp tone, full of pain, "Kathleen! Kathleen!"</p> + +<p>"I'm here, Molly, close to your side," said Kathleen.</p> + +<p>"You won't leave me!" cried the child. "You won't go away!"</p> + +<p>"No, Molly, I'll never leave you, 'never!'" said Kathleen, earnestly.</p> + +<p>Molly seemed satisfied, and her eyelids closed again.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image029" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image029.jpg" alt="image029"></figure> +<p class="t4"> +<b>"ARE YOU IN PAIN, MY CHILD?"</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>The doctor bent over his little patient.</p> + +<p>"Are you in pain, my child?" he asked, speaking in clear, distinct +tones.</p> + +<p>Molly opened her eyes and looked at him wonderingly for a moment, then +shut her eyes once more.</p> + +<p>"You speak to her," said the doctor, turning to Kathleen.</p> + +<p>"Do you feel any pain, Molly?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Molly looked up again with a faint smile. "No, no pain," she said +softly.</p> + +<p>"Are you quite comfortable?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, quite comfortable," she answered.</p> + +<p>The doctor proceeded to examine her more closely, handling her with +what Kathleen thought was unnecessary roughness, but not a sound +escaped the child. She seemed unconscious of his touch.</p> + +<p>"It is as I thought," said the surgeon, turning to the stranger. "That +numbness is a bad symptom. The lower limbs are paralysed."</p> + +<p>His companion, who had been gazing intently at the sisters, started at +the doctor's words. "You do not mean," he whispered, "that the case is +hopeless!"</p> + +<p>The doctor nodded his head. "She may linger for days," he said, "but +recovery is impossible."</p> + +<p>The stranger looked shocked at this announcement. After a minute's +silence, he turned and addressed Kathleen.</p> + +<p>"Your name is Macardie, is it not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, Kathleen Macardie."</p> + +<p>"Ah! I think I heard you had lost both your parents?"</p> + +<p>Kathleen gave a sign of assent.</p> + +<p>"Was your father's name James?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, it was," replied Kathleen, looking her surprise at being +thus questioned.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever hear your father speak of his brother Tom?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, sir, often. He said his brother Tom had gone to Australia, and +was making his fortune there."</p> + +<p>"I am that brother Tom, child," said the stranger.</p> + +<p>"You, sir—you? It can't be!" exclaimed Kathleen, in great astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear girl, I am he! I returned to England a week ago, and have +since been trying to discover some trace of my brother's whereabouts. +I should not have guessed you were his children, however, had it +not struck me just now, when hearing you call each other Molly and +Kathleen, that those were the names by which your father spoke of his +two girls in his last letter to me."</p> + +<p>"Then you did get the letter?" said Kathleen.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but it was a year old ere it reached me. I was leading a +wandering life in the bush at that time, and had no settled home, so +the letter went from one place to another, till at last it fell into +my hands. I wrote in reply to the address which your father gave, and +enclosed some bank-notes, but I suppose my letter never reached your +father, as he had probably left that place long before."</p> + +<p>"He never got the letter; I am sure of that," said Kathleen.</p> + +<p>"I thought not, for I heard nothing more of him, though I wrote several +times. How long is it since your father died?"</p> + +<p>"Nearly a year," replied Kathleen.</p> + +<p>"And who has taken care of you? How have you lived since then?"</p> + +<p>"There's been no one to take care of us," she said; "we've taken care +of ourselves."</p> + +<p>Her uncle glanced round the cheerless attic, and his eyes filled with +tears as he thought of the hardships these children must have had to +endure in their lonely, friendless life.</p> + +<p>"I will take care of you in future, Kathleen," he said. "Let us thank +God that He has watched over you in your loneliness, and now guided me +to you."</p> + +<p>Kathleen's eyes drooped. Tears were glistening on their long, dark +lashes. She had indeed cause for thankfulness, but she could not help +the thought, "Oh! If only uncle had come sooner!"</p> + +<p>"How glad Molly will be!" she said at last.</p> + +<p>But her uncle knew that Molly would not long need his care. Her work +was done. Nobly had she kept her promise to her father, and striven to +guard Kathleen from harm.</p> + +<p>Now the Good Shepherd, who had all along cared for this lone lamb, was +coming to gather her in His arms, and take her to rest in His heavenly +fold.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image030" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image030.jpg" alt="image030"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image031" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image031.jpg" alt="image031"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_14">CHAPTER XIV.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>A WILLING SACRIFICE.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>ON the next day, Molly awoke from the stupor in which she had lain for +so many hours. Her mind was clear and calm. She could not recall all +that had happened, but she knew that she was very ill, and she seemed +to know also that she could not get well.</p> + +<p>"I shall go away as father did," she said, confidently.</p> + +<p>And Kathleen's hopeful words could not persuade her otherwise. When +told of her uncle's coming, she took the news very quietly.</p> + +<p>"Jesus has sent him to take care of us," she said gently, with a glad +light in her deep, dark eyes.</p> + +<p>Her uncle would have liked to remove the little sufferer to more +comfortable quarters, but the doctor declared that to be impossible. In +the little attic where she had toiled and sorrowed, her young spirit +was to gain its release from toil and woe.</p> + +<p>"Molly, dear," her uncle said to her, during the course of that day, +most of which he spent by her bedside, "tell me what more I can do for +you. Is there nothing you wish?"</p> + +<p>"Only one thing," answered little Molly, "and I don't know whether +you can do it, but if it could be managed, I should so like to see my +minister again."</p> + +<p>"We will see," said her uncle, who had heard Molly speak of the +minister to whose words she had loved to listen; "I'll try to find out +where he lives, and ask him to come to you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you!" cried Molly, and her face beamed with joy.</p> + +<p>"Kathleen," she said to her sister, when their uncle had gone out; +"Kathleen, I feel so happy about the future."</p> + +<p>"Do you, Molly?" said Kathleen, with a look of wonder.</p> + +<p>"I see it all so plain," said the child; "nothing could be better. +Uncle has been talking to me. He says he has plenty of money, and he +will always take care of you. And he will have you taught all the +things you ought to learn; you'll be quite a lady, Kathleen, just what +you wished, you know."</p> + +<p>"I don't wish it now," said Kathleen; "I only want to see you get well."</p> + +<p>"I shall never get well," said little Molly; "I asked uncle, and he +said Jesus would come and take me to Himself. And I'm so glad to go, +Kathleen. It's so much better, you see. I'm such an ugly, crooked +child. I should never be anything but poor little Molly. A little +hunchback, some one called me—who was it said so? Oh, it's so much +better I should go away. I shan't be a little hunchback then."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Molly, I cannot bear it!" sobbed Kathleen, in bitter anguish. +"I cannot bear to lose you thus. It is all my fault. But for my +unkindness, my 'wickedness,' you might be well now. You have given your +life to save me from harm."</p> + +<p>"Jesus gave His life for us all," the child murmured; "He died to save +us. I did not believe it once. I thought it was only a made-up story. +But it's all real true. I know it now. It's all real true. Kathleen, +you 'will' believe in Jesus now, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Molly," Kathleen confessed, "I might have believed before, but I +did not 'want' to."</p> + +<p>"But you will now," urged her sister; "you'll let Jesus be your Friend?"</p> + +<p>"If He will," replied Kathleen; "but I'm so wicked. It would serve me +right if He would have nothing to do with me."</p> + +<p>"But He loves you," said Molly, "and He will make you good."</p> + +<p>She was so weak that it tired her to talk long. She said no more now, +but lay still, holding Kathleen's hand tightly in her tiny wasted +fingers.</p> + +<p>Kathleen sat by her side, shedding bitter tears as she mused over the +past. Sad and solemn were her thoughts in that quiet hour. Presently +she heard a tap at the door. Kathleen rose and opened the door, and +after a whispered talk with some one outside, came back to her sister.</p> + +<p>"It is Ned Jones, Molly," she said; "he does so want to see you. Could +you bear to speak to him for one minute?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, let him come in," said Molly; "I should like to see Ned."</p> + +<p>Ned came in with a sad, subdued look.</p> + +<p>"Poor little Molly," he said, as he took her tiny hand into his large, +brown palm, and gently patted it, "poor little Molly! I'm so sorry to +see you thus."</p> + +<p>"Don't be sorry for me," she answered; "I'm happy, Ned. Jesus makes me +happy. It's all real true about Him. You must never say again that it +is only a make-believe."</p> + +<p>"I never will," Nod replied, earnestly.</p> + +<p>"Jesus will make you happy, Ned, if you will let Him," she said; "He +loves you, Ned; oh, won't you love Him too?"</p> + +<p>"I will try," he murmured. And then, strong manly fellow that he was, +he burst into tears, and Kathleen was obliged to hurry him from the +room, lest the sight of his emotion should distress Molly.</p> + +<p>But the child lay back on her pillow with a happy smile upon her face, +and did not seem the worse for Ned's visit.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image032" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image032.jpg" alt="image032"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image033" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image033.jpg" alt="image033"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_15">CHAPTER XV.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>MOLLY'S DIFFICULTIES COME TO AN END.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>AFTER some difficulty, Molly's uncle succeeded in finding the minister, +who readily consented to come at once to see the child. He listened +with sorrow to the story of the trouble Molly had known since he had +lost sight of her, and the sad way in which her little life was ending.</p> + +<p>But he believed that God would bring gain out of loss, and crown that +blighted childhood with everlasting joy.</p> + +<p>The day was near its close, and it was almost dark when Mr. Macardie +and the minister climbed the steep stair to the attic.</p> + +<p>Molly had grown much weaker during the last hour. Her strength was +going rapidly, but her mind was still unclouded.</p> + +<p>She recognised her minister as he entered the room, and stretched out +her little hand to him with a smile of welcome.</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad you've come," she said, softly; and then turning to her +sister, she added, "bring the candle nearer, please; I want to see my +minister quite plain."</p> + +<p>Kathleen brought the light and held it, whilst Molly gazed with love +and confidence at the kind face which looked on her with tenderest +sympathy.</p> + +<p>"It is all right, is it not, Molly?" asked the minister. "Jesus is with +you."</p> + +<p>"Yes!" she murmured, faintly, her lips parting with a smile. "Jesus is +with me!"</p> + +<p>In a few simple words he spoke to her of the loving Saviour, and of the +happy home to which his own darling child had gone, and into which she, +too, would soon be gathered.</p> + +<p>Molly seemed to understand what he said. The happy look lingered on her +face.</p> + +<p>"It's all real true!" she whispered once. "All real true!"</p> + +<p>Then the minister knelt by her bedside, and commended the dying child +to the care of the Good Shepherd.</p> + +<p>As he prayed, Molly fell into a doze, from which she did not rouse +whilst he remained there.</p> + +<p>As he went out of the house, the minister met Madame Ganelli, who was +coming to see her little friend.</p> + +<p>Giving him a quick, observant glance, she said, "You are little Molly's +minister, are you not, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he replied, looking at her with surprise; "I am little Molly's +minister."</p> + +<p>"Oh, poor little Molly!" cried the singer, in a broken voice. "Is it +not a dreadful thing? My heart aches for the child. To think that she +should be sacrificed to a man's cruel rage!"</p> + +<p>"Do not grieve for her," said the minister, gently. "Sad though her +case seems, it is well with the child."</p> + +<p>"I know it! I know it!" cried the lady, bursting into tears. "She is so +good! Oh! I cannot tell you what I owe to little Molly! That child has +been my salvation!"</p> + +<p>"How so?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"To explain that, I should have to tell you a sad story," said Madame +Ganelli, stepping within the shelter of the doorway, and giving a +searching look into the minister's face.</p> + +<p>The look seemed to encourage her, for she added, "The story is too long +and too sad to be told now and here, but I think I should like to tell +it to you some time, if you would let me. I have long wished to open my +heart to some one, and it seems to me that you are the person to help +me."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! I shall be glad to receive your confidence, and to give you +all the help in my power," replied the minister, his voice full of +sympathy. "Could you come with me, now, to the mission hall? It is but +a few steps from here, and we could talk quietly there."</p> + +<p>Madame Ganelli hesitated for a moment. She felt half frightened at +being so promptly taken at her word.</p> + +<p>"Just as you like," he said; "if you would prefer speaking to me at +another time—"</p> + +<p>"No, no," she responded, quickly; "there is no good in delay. I will +come with you at once, as you kindly ask me."</p> + +<p>In a few minutes, they were at the mission hall. The gas was lighted +within, and a woman was moving about arranging the benches for the +service an hour later. At a word from the minister, she retired.</p> + +<p>"Now," said he, as he gave the lady a chair, "what is it you have to +tell me? Do not be afraid to speak freely, as to a friend."</p> + +<p>"I believe I shall find you a friend," she replied, "and will therefore +hide nothing from you. You will be surprised to hear that the wicked +man who brought this trouble upon Molly is my husband."</p> + +<p>"What!" cried the minister, with a look of astonishment. "Your husband! +Is your name Vavasour, then?"</p> + +<p>"No; nor is his. That is merely a name assumed to serve the purpose of +his profession. For a similar reason, I have called myself Ganelli. My +real name is Sherwin—Catherine Sherwin. I am no foreigner, but was born +and brought up in a pretty country place in Berkshire. My parents were +good Christian folk.</p> + +<p>"My father was postmaster of the little town where we lived. He had to +work very hard, but his leisure was devoted to doing good. On Sunday +afternoons, no matter what the weather might be, he would walk several +miles in order to hold a cottage-meeting in an out-of-the-way place, +where there was no church for the poor people to attend. In our home, +we always had family prayers, night and morning. I can remember my +father's prayers now."</p> + +<p>Here Madame Ganelli's voice trembled with emotion, and she was obliged +to pause for a while.</p> + +<p>"I was my parents' only child," she went on presently, "and they +lavished on me all the love of their hearts. But I wounded their +love and disappointed their hopes. They were determined to give me a +good education, and that I might have unusual advantages, sent me to +a superior boarding-school, from which I returned accomplished and +polished, but vain and frivolous in character. I had learned that I +was beautiful, also that I possessed a remarkably fine voice. A vain +ambition awoke within me, and longing to display my gifts, I was no +longer satisfied to share my parents' humdrum life.</p> + +<p>"I yearned to distinguish myself in a larger world, never doubting that +my beauty and accomplishments would win me the happiness I craved.</p> + +<p>"My parents saw the mistake which they in their love had made. Vainly +they strove to arouse in me higher aspirations. My father pleaded +with me to give my heart to the Saviour, but I would not heed his +words. I did not want to be religious. I wanted to be gay and clever +and admired. My foolish vanity was fed from time to time by words of +admiration from friends outside my home. My voice was heard and admired +as I sang in our church, and the rector came himself to ask me to join +the choir. This I was easily persuaded to do, and from that time, the +very praises of God's house were a snare to me.</p> + +<p>"Strangers inquired who was the lovely girl who sang so sweetly, and +compared my voice to that of their favourite opera-singer.</p> + +<p>"Their words came to my ears, and gave a definite form to my ambitious +longings.</p> + +<p>"I was eager to go to London and be trained for a public singer. Oh, +what a life, I thought, mine would then be! I pictured myself a famous +singer, with crowds flocking to hear me whenever I sang in public.</p> + +<p>"How delightful to stand upon a glittering stage, and hear the hall +ring with applause of my song, whilst bouquets were tossed at my feet, +and I was flattered and admired as a queen!</p> + +<p>"With such visions did I delude myself, never dreaming of the +heart-ache and disappointment, the sin and misery, which such a career +too often involves.</p> + +<p>"I did not mention my wishes to my parents. I knew that they would +never consent to my leaving home, and devoting myself to such a +profession. But the thought was seldom out of my mind. I dwelt upon it +till selfish ambition stifled all sense of filial love and duty, so +that when temptation came, my will yielded a ready consent.</p> + +<p>"That summer there came to our neighbourhood a fine gentleman, an +actor from one of the London theatres. He had come into the country to +recruit his health, and during his idle hours, I attracted his notice, +and was soon flattered by his constant attention. He was a handsome +man, and my vanity was easily beguiled by his winning manner. Ere my +parents even knew that I had made his acquaintance, I had confided to +him my ambitious dreams, in response to his lavish praise of my voice +and my appearance. He gladdened my ears with repeated assurances of +success, and took advantage of my weakness by urging me to marry him +without my parents' consent. If I became his wife, he promised me the +training I required to fit me for a public career. In glowing terms, he +described to me the grand future thus open to me. I listened, and in +my folly believed all. I fancied that I loved this man, of whom I knew +scarce anything, fancied that with him I should find a happiness that +would compensate me for the loss of my old home and my parents' love.</p> + +<p>"But I did not yield to his persuasions without a struggle. It cost me +many a pang to think of leaving, without even a word of farewell, the +father and mother who loved me so dearly. But with artful words, he +made light of my scruples. It was only for a time, he said. I should +soon return to see my parents, and how pleased and proud they would be +when I won for them fame and distinction. So I took the irrevocable +step. In the darkness of night, I stole away from my home accompanied +by this man. We were married the next morning in London, and at once +started for the Continent."</p> + +<p>Here Madame Ganelli made a pause. The minister said not a word, but +waited till she could recover herself and continue her narrative.</p> + +<p>"I never saw my father and mother again," she said at last. "Before I +had been long married, I learned the true nature of my husband, and saw +what a fatal mistake I had made.</p> + +<p>"We settled in lodgings in Paris, and there my musical education began. +My husband spared no pains in procuring me the best instruction. He had +set his heart, for his own sake, on my success.</p> + +<p>"I worked hard with a kind of desperate diligence, trying to kill by +industry the sore pain of remorse. For a time my husband treated me +with tolerable kindness. But as months rolled on, and my spirit grew +more and more despondent, he wearied of me, and often left me alone for +weeks at a time in my dull lodging.</p> + +<p>"I heard nothing of my parents all this while. My husband would not +allow me to write to them. I should see them, he promised, when we +returned to England. He had entered on a long engagement at one of +the Paris theatres, and did not propose returning to London till the +following year.</p> + +<p>"Ere that time arrived, I became the mother of a beautiful boy. Oh, how +I loved my precious babe! He was the sole joy of my life. I used to +picture to myself the day when, carrying him in my arms, I would make +my way back to my old home, and falling at my mother's feet beseech her +to forgive me, if not for my own sake for that of the child.</p> + +<p>"But it was not to be.</p> + +<p>"My musical studies compelled me to consign my babe to the care of +another for the greater part of each day. This was a great trial to me. +I grudged every hour passed away from my boy, and was always anxious +lest harm should come to him in my absence. He was a small and delicate +child, and did not thrive as I could wish.</p> + +<p>"At last, the time came when my husband was free to take me to London, +there to make my 'début' as a singer.</p> + +<p>"Ah! What hopes and fears contended within my soul when I landed on +the English shore! Not from anxiety for professional success; I had +ceased to care much about that. But I hoped to see again the faces of +my father and mother, and to hear them say that they forgave me.</p> + +<p>"But this hope was soon slain.</p> + +<p>"At the hotel, where we were to rest that night, I chanced to take up +a newspaper. My eye glanced over the list of deaths. Suddenly my heart +stood still, and a numbness took possession of my frame. For there in +that line was my mother's name! Then I knew that my wicked conduct had +broken her heart."</p> + +<p class="thought"> +**** +</p> + +<p>"I scarcely know how I lived after that. I was like one in a dream, +save when I had my baby in my arms, and was comforted by the touch of +his tiny hand smoothing my cheek or playing with my hair.</p> + +<p>"I began to sing in public, but my singing was not the success my +husband had hoped it would prove. It was good in its way, but it lacked +inspiration. I won my fair meed of praise, but gave no promise of +rising above mediocrity in the ranks of singers.</p> + +<p>"My husband was furious at what he termed my failure. But in vain, he +stormed and threatened. I could do no better.</p> + +<p>"At last there came a day I shall never forget. My beautiful boy was +suddenly taken ill. All day he lay on my lap, his little body racked by +convulsions, which threatened death at every moment.</p> + +<p>"I was engaged to sing in an opera that night, and my husband had set +his heart on my making a sensation. I implored him to find some one to +take my place, and get me excused, but he would not listen to me.</p> + +<p>"The child would be all right, he declared, and I must and I should +sing. With cruel force, he took me from my child, as he lay panting and +struggling, a sight to rend a mother's heart, and carried me off to the +theatre at which I was to sing.</p> + +<p>"I sang that night as I had never sung before. Tortured with anxiety, +trembling from excitement, I stood upon the stage. My song was a wild +lament, and I poured out in its swelling notes all the anguish of +my soul. It was with no feigned misery that my voice quivered, and +the reality of my emotion penetrated to the hearts of my audience, +thrilling them in response. As my song died away, a thunder of applause +greeted my ears. The building re-echoed with the sound of my triumph. A +bouquet fell at my feet.</p> + +<p>"As in a dream, I heard the shouts and clapping; through a haze of +tears I saw the admiring glances cast upon me; then bowing low, I +retired. Thus were my girlish dreams realized. Did any one envy me that +night, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>The speaker's voice again failed her. Tears would have their way, and +some minutes passed ere she could go on with her story.</p> + +<p>"I cannot dwell upon the events of that night," she said, speaking with +forced calmness. "When I reached home, my boy was dead. They told me +that for an hour before he passed away, he kept calling for me in baby +words.</p> + +<p>"I must pass over the anguish of that time. It almost killed me. I was +ill—very ill—for weeks.</p> + +<p>"When I recovered, I was an altered being. My beauty was gone, and with +it all hope of shining as a star in the musical world.</p> + +<p>"My voice had lost its power. I could no longer command the rich, full +notes which had won me admiration. Even if my voice regained strength, +as a physician declared that in time it would, it was but too evident +that I should never be more than a second-rate singer.</p> + +<p>"My husband did not attempt to conceal his mortification at this issue. +He no longer made any show of affection for me, but treated me with the +utmost cruelty.</p> + +<p>"Before I had fully recovered from the effects of my long illness, he +basely deserted me, leaving me to struggle through life as best I could +alone. I believe he went to the Continent, but I did not try to recall +him, though I might easily have traced him through his connection with +the theatres.</p> + +<p>"The first thing I did in my freedom was to journey to my native place, +in the hope of finding my father there. But again I was too late, and +reached my old home only to learn that my father had died a few weeks +earlier.</p> + +<p>"Heart-broken, I returned to London.</p> + +<p>"I took lodgings in a quiet suburb, and found employment in giving +singing lessons. I called myself Ganelli; and when people questioned me +as to my history, I said that I was the widow of a foreigner.</p> + +<p>"But I could not long endure the quietude and monotony of this life. +Painful thoughts tortured me, and I hoped to escape them by resuming my +old profession. My voice was now stronger, and I could sing in public +again.</p> + +<p>"So I once more appeared in concert-rooms and halls, and sang with some +measure of success.</p> + +<p>"But no happiness came to me. Sorrow and remorse were ever working at +my heart, though no one would have guessed it who heard me sing. The +songs I chose were generally of a lively character. I could not bear to +sing a melancholy strain; grief was too real a thing for me.</p> + +<p>"Sacred music also I avoided. I felt myself too great a sinner to take +holy words upon my lips.</p> + +<p>"However, one day, contrary to my usual habit, to oblige a friend, I +agreed to take part in an oratorio. In preparation for the concert, I +was one morning practising the sublime words, 'I know that my Redeemer +liveth,' when suddenly little Molly burst into my room, and eagerly +asked me to tell her how I was so sure that the Redeemer lived.</p> + +<p>"The child was employed to clean boots at the boarding-house in which +I lived, but I had not seen her before. I was greatly startled by her +sudden appearance and the strange question she put. I would fain have +checked her eager words, but her anxiety was so real and earnest that +I felt bound to assure her of the truth, which I could never doubt. +Unhappy though I was, I believed that there was a God and a Saviour. +I told the child that what she had heard of the Lord Jesus was indeed +true, and she left my room with hope sparkling in her eyes. Then I +bowed my head and wept, because there was hope for that poor child, but +no hope for me.</p> + +<p>"After this, I took great interest in little Molly. I felt anxious to +befriend her, but ere long personal anxiety drove her from my thoughts. +I had learned some time before that my husband had returned to London, +and was acting at the S— Theatre. I did my best to avoid meeting him, +and for a time was successful. But it was impossible for me, in the +public life I led, to long escape his notice. One evening, when I left +the hall at which I had been singing, I found him waiting for me at the +door.</p> + +<p>"A stormy interview ensued. He urged me to return to him, but I, +remembering his past cruelty, and believing that he only wished me to +return that he might profit by my earnings, refused to listen to him.</p> + +<p>"Then he threatened me, but hoping that the law would protect me from +his malice, I dared him to do his worst.</p> + +<p>"At last, seeing that I was not to be moved, he left me; but from that +day, he lost no opportunity of annoying me. He vented his spite upon me +in a thousand ways too petty to describe, yet sufficiently vexatious.</p> + +<p>"I bore it as well as I could. But what words can describe my +consternation when I learned from poor little Molly that the man who +had ruined the happiness of my life was calling himself her sister's +friend, and deceiving the poor girl into such a belief in his good-will +that she was ready to trust her future to him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what I suffered as I thought of Kathleen's peril! I felt I must +save her, yet was powerless to do anything. I could only solemnly warn +little Molly of the man's true nature, and entreat her to save her +sister.</p> + +<p>"But though I could not help them, I knew there was One who could. For +years I had not dared to pray for myself, but now I prayed for those +poor children as I had never prayed before."</p> + +<p>"And your prayer was answered," said the minister, as she paused.</p> + +<p>"It was answered in a sad way," she returned.</p> + +<p>"Sad to our human short-sightedness," said the minister. "But God's +ways are not as our ways. We can trust little Molly in His loving +hands."</p> + +<p>Madame Ganelli was silent.</p> + +<p>"Is this all you have to tell me, my sister?" asked the minister, +presently.</p> + +<p>"I have told you all my story," the singer replied.</p> + +<p>"But have you nothing to say of yourself? After you had prayed for +these poor girls, could you not bring your own case before the Lord?"</p> + +<p>"I tried to do so," she said, tears springing anew to her eyes. "I +remembered some words little Molly had said to me. She told me that +Jesus loved me better than even my mother had loved me; and I knew that +bad though I was, my mother had never ceased to love me, and that if I +could have gained her side ere she passed away, she would have received +me without a word of reproach, and have given me a full and free +forgiveness. Is it true? Does the Lord love us like that?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, it is true," he answered. "Your life has been hard and bitter, but +it was not the Lord's will that it should be thus. You have tasted the +fruit of your own wrong-doing. He would have saved you from misery, +but you would not let Him. The strokes with which He has smitten you +have been dealt in love. Now, if you will turn to Him, and seek His +forgiveness, He will soothe your heart's sorrows and give you peace, as +a mother would comfort her child who ran to her to heal the smarting +pain resulting from some act of wilfulness. Do not fear to trust His +love."</p> + +<p>The singer's face brightened.</p> + +<p>"I shall not forget your words," she said, as she rose to go; "they +give me hope. You are indeed a friend."</p> + +<p>"The servant of a better Friend," he replied. "To Him I commend you. He +can meet all your need."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>From the mission hall, Madame Ganelli hastened to Molly's bedside.</p> + +<p>The child still lay in a doze, but signs of the approach of death +were becoming more and more visible to the eyes of the watchers. They +thought she would pass away in her sleep, but presently she moved, +opened her eyes, and looked up in bewilderment.</p> + +<p>Her face was darkened with a look of distress. "Don't leave me, +Kathleen," she cried, pitifully; "don't leave your poor little Molly! +What will become of me if you go away?"</p> + +<p>"I will never leave you," Kathleen told her, in a broken voice. "Oh, +Molly dear, I would not go away from you now for the world!"</p> + +<p>At the sound of her words, Molly's bewilderment ceased. Her brow +cleared, and she looked at her sister with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, I forgot," she said, faintly; "it is not you, but I, little +Molly, who am going away. And I'm glad to go."</p> + +<p>She smiled, as with one hand she clasped her uncle's, and with the +other Kathleen's hand in token of farewell. Then she caught sight of +Madame Ganelli, and greeted her, too, with a smile.</p> + +<p>The smile died away, and she looked into the singer's face with an +anxious, questioning glance, as if she would fain ask something, but +had no words.</p> + +<p>Madame Ganelli thought she understood that look. "Molly," she said, +bending down close to her and speaking very distinctly, "Molly, I can +say it now from my heart, I 'know' that 'my' Redeemer liveth."</p> + +<p>Molly understood the words. A gleam of joy lit up her tiny white face, +as half raising herself in bed she cried in clear, ringing tones, "I +know, I know! Jesus lives! It's all real true."</p> + +<p>They were the last words she spoke. She sank back, and her eyes closed. +A happy, peaceful expression settled on her face, and remained there. +The breath came slowly and quietly through her parted lips. Soon no +sound broke the stillness of the room, for little Molly was away.</p> + +<p>Doubts and difficulties would vex her spirit no more, toil and want +were for ever past. Out of the darkness of this lower world God had +taken her into the perfect light beyond, and the child was in the +presence of the Saviour whom on earth she had yearned to know.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +THE END.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> +————————————————————————————————<br> +London: Pardon and Sons, Printers. Paternoster Row.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79227 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/79227-h/images/image001.jpg b/79227-h/images/image001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6091031 --- /dev/null +++ b/79227-h/images/image001.jpg diff --git a/79227-h/images/image002.jpg b/79227-h/images/image002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..df0500d --- /dev/null +++ b/79227-h/images/image002.jpg diff --git a/79227-h/images/image003.jpg b/79227-h/images/image003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0435b3e --- /dev/null +++ b/79227-h/images/image003.jpg diff --git a/79227-h/images/image004.jpg b/79227-h/images/image004.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..de55165 --- /dev/null +++ b/79227-h/images/image004.jpg diff --git a/79227-h/images/image005.jpg b/79227-h/images/image005.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 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