'I don't suppose she'll come at all, guardian. Everything turns out disappointing. That Mrs. Arderne will keep her indoors, or she'll be afraid to walk in the rain, or she'll forget all about me, or those—those extraordinary children will coax her to stay with them.'

Agatha had been fretting all the afternoon in this fashion, until she had forced herself to believe her own dismal prophecies, and no words of her guardian availed to comfort her.

He was standing beside her couch now, holding her thin right hand in his firm grasp, smilingly trying to persuade her to be more reasonable, and to take the tea and hot buttered toast which Harriet had prepared with so much care.

The colonel was enveloped in a huge cloak, for he was going out to read aloud at a Young Men's Club,—a habit of his on many Sunday evenings.

'Catherine is true to her promises, I am certain of that, dear. She will come to you if she possibly can.'

'Very likely; but she is sure to be afraid of the weather. Just listen to the wind and rain! It is a shame, when the morning was so lovely.'

'God's weather, my little woman: that must be for the best.'

'Oh, bother!' was the rude answer, and Agatha turned her head away from her best friend.

The colonel did not take offence. He was grieved by her rebellion against God far more than by her impertinence to himself; and he was sufficiently humble to recollect how short a time it was since he had learned to trust the All-Father, saying in his thoughts, 'If I, a grown man, could be both ignorant and stubborn-willed, how dare I be shocked by this invalid child's foolishness?'

So, instead of scolding, he slipped an arm under Agatha's shoulders to raise her up, that she might take her tea before he was obliged to leave her.

'If Catherine comes, you will need strength to entertain her cheerfully. Be brave and good, dear.'

Agatha longed to push the cup away from her, but his patient kindness prevailed over her cross mood.

'I'm a savage little beast. Guardian, I'm—I'm sorry!'

'There's a dear girl! No doubt pain is very bad to bear.'

'I haven't any pain now—only in my temper. But I don't pretend to be religiously sorry, you know; I don't want to be bad to you—that's all.'

'Your Father in heaven loves you better than I, your adopted father on earth, can do.'

'You only love me out of duty. It must be that, because I'm not a bit nice; so probably my Father in heaven gave me up long ago!'

'Agatha, my darling, do you not know better than that?'

'Better than which, guardian? better than to doubt God's love or yours?' she asked, smiling through tears that seemed to burn her weary eyes.

'I might answer truthfully, "Both"; but if you cannot trust in my love, you should be able to lean confidently upon the love of your Maker.'

'Are you really fond of me? Would you be sorry if I were to die?'

Colonel Jack looked his ward gravely in the face, his eyes filled with sincerity. He was a man of action, not of words, so he made no lengthy protestations, only saying with heartfelt fervour:

'I love you, for your own sake and that of my old friend, your father; and I should be lonely without you.'

Agatha gazed at him in silence for a minute or two, studying the sincerity of his eyes, which had so often looked at death calmly. Then she pressed her lips to his hand, and cried:

'I'm happier now, then! It's dreadful to think that no one does. Perhaps—I mean, I'll believe God does.'

'"Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends,"' quoted the colonel reverently.

'Guardian, you are always repeating that. I believe it's the only text you know by heart!'

Seeing Agatha's natural expression come again to her face—the teasing, audacious, little smile he knew so well—he was contented.

'It is the best I could remember, little woman. Now, promise me you will not fret any more to-night, while I am away. Catherine will come to you, unless she is unavoidably prevented.'

'I'll try to be reasonable. It would be much nicer if you could stay with me till she comes, though. There's something very odd about persuading young men and boys to go to a club on Sunday evenings, just to hear reading, when they could quite well go to church.'

'None are allowed in but those who have been to church in the morning, and Mr. Burnley tells me that many go to service (who used never to be seen in church before), just that they may be entitled to join our Sunday evening circle. We read interesting books to them, and sometimes there are recitations of poems,—it is not surprising how many great literary works there are which raise the heart and mind to God. Then we always begin and end with prayer. It is not a bad service itself, Agatha; and the young fellows would not go to church twice a day—they would probably spend their evenings in gambling and drinking, or in the company of street loafers. Beverbridge has its bad characters.'

'Now, why is it that you never address meetings of the club?' asked his ward mischievously. 'That was quite a speech!'

He laughed.

'I speak? My courage fails me even when I begin to read aloud! No, no, that is not the kind of action for which my poor powers are suitable.... Now, good-bye, my dear. Keep a brave heart until Catherine comes. Be God's plucky little soldier!'

Only half an hour later Agatha was nestling her face against Catherine Carmichael's shoulder, smiling up at her radiantly. They were talking of Agatha's own life,—its trials, pleasures, wants, and blessings.

'Oh, you can't guess how badly I've wanted a girl-friend, some one to tell everything to! I used to dream about you, when you were out in Australia, and I nearly began to write long letters to you.'

'I wish you had written.'

'You couldn't have known what I was like. I should have hated you to think me nice, and then to have come to England and been disappointed. It's best as it is. Help me, Cath; do help me! What am I to do to be nicer?'

'Leave off thinking so much about yourself.'

'Why? I ought to meditate continually upon my faults, ought I not? People have told me so.'

'That is a morbid idea of religion and duty, dear. Be as sorry as possible for your sins, but spare time to meditate upon God's mercy and goodness, otherwise how can you learn to love Him? Then again, by thinking always of your faults, you grow into a spiritual hypochondriac. How ill a person would feel who spent all his time in considering the exact strength and nature of every small pain or weariness! No, no, Agatha; to be healthily religious, you must trust in God a great deal more, and, in remembering Him, forget yourself!'

'It must be much easier for you, Catherine,' said the little girl wistfully, 'for you never feel too ill to do anything but be cross, do you?'

'No, dear. But there will be a wonderful reward due to you in heaven, if, in spite of your bodily weakness, you serve the Father bravely. Tell Him your difficulties; speak to Him quite simply, at all hours, out of the fulness of your heart, and He will understand. You will learn to feel sure of His presence near you; you will love to bear pain patiently, to please Him, and in remembrance of the agony He chose for His portion in order that we, His rebellious servants, might be eternally happy. Once you have learned this lesson, you will never feel lonely any more.'

Catherine's face was glorified by the light of the peace of which she was speaking, that peace which truly passeth understanding! Perhaps Agatha learned more by watching her friend's face than even by listening to her words. Certainly she was both convinced and comforted.

'Catherine, I'll try.'

The promise (for as a promise the words were spoken) came slowly, earnestly, eagerly from the child's lips. Then, laying her head on her friend's shoulder, she went on to say:

'It won't be easy, I know that; and it means never trying to please myself only, never speaking angrily just to make other people angry, never calling Uncle Ross our enemy and trying to hate him, never.... Oh yes, it will be difficult! Only now I seem to understand, as I never did before, that it isn't only people who want to be extra good, but it's every one who ought to serve God thoroughly. Do you know what I mean?'

'Yes, dear. It is very common for persons to say or think, "I needn't devote my whole efforts to serving God. I shall be all right, so long as I do not sin in great matters." But that is a form of ignorance. Directly such a person is asked, "Why were you created?" "Are you fulfilling the Creator's purpose?" there is no answer forthcoming, except an admission of failure. Now we all of us despise failures that are the result of idleness; so how can we expect God, at the last judgment, to reward us for failing through our ill-will and slothfulness?'

'It all seems quite plain, when you talk of religion.'

Catherine's gentle hands were stroking Agatha's hot forehead, passing and repassing over her eyes with a soft touch which was very soothing.

'My mother taught me all these truths, and I have never forgotten them,' she answered. 'So you are going to give God your whole heart?'

'I'll begin this very evening, and I shall write down the promise, in cypher, in my diary, that I mayn't ever be able to forget for long. Cath, if I were to die now ... should I go to hell?'

'If you had a servant who had neglected his duty, but who was honestly sorry, and promised you that he would never wilfully sin against you again, would you wish to condemn him to eternal misery? Oh, childie, when you doubt God's mercy, you do Him a terrible injustice, for He is many million times more generous than the greatest and best of His creatures can ever become.'

'Oh, Catherine, you are beautiful!'

'Why, what sudden nonsense is this, my pet?' was the amused question.

'I was watching you. Does Mr. North love you very, very much? He ought to.'

Blushes stole over the face that had been praised.

'He loves me a great deal more than I deserve.'

'I made guardian tell me all you told him. You don't mind my knowing, do you?'

'Of course not. It will be nice to be able to talk and write of him to you, little one, for there was no one to sympathise with my romance until I found you and Uncle Jack.... Brian may come down to see me to-morrow, but I am trying not to hope too much, or else I shall feel dismal if a disappointment follows. Still, he hasn't telegraphed yet, nor written for two whole days, so I think he must be coming.'

'If he does, you will bring him here?' asked Agatha excitedly.

Catherine nodded.

'I am simply longing to show him to Uncle Jack; they are sure to love one another. In the afternoon I have agreed to go to see Uncle Ross, and to take Brian with me, if possible.... Now, Agatha! What a dreadful frown!'

'It's gone, now, and I know you are quite right and wise, Cath. Please go on with what you were going to say.'

'But I shall insist upon leaving Carm Hall in time to spend the evening here. I shall say you have invited me to supper. That will be true, won't it?'

'Yes, yes, and Harriet shall lay the cloth and make the table look very nice, before she goes out for her "evening." Ah, Cath, you have made me happy!'

'God bless you, darling! He will teach you to be a great deal happier yet, I hope.'

When the colonel returned from his work at the club he heard Agatha's laughter resounding through the cottage,—a sound that was strange indeed. The girls were neither of them in the least tired of their tÊte-À-tÊte, yet they gladly welcomed him and soon the three were chatting as gaily as two had done.

Before Catherine went home she shared in the evening prayer at Redan Cottage, and heard the colonel's voice falter as he offered up one special petition for the 'welfare, spiritual and temporal, of all relatives and friends.'

No wonder that the girl's heart was filled with rejoicing as she walked back to Woodley Villa! She had been able to comfort poor little Agatha, and had persuaded her to serve God. And there was still plenty of work to be done, a beautiful reconciliation to effect, if God would give her grace and aid sufficient.

Not for an instant did she count up the gains that might accrue to herself from this peace-making. Her intentions were pure and unselfish.

Little world-loving Mrs. Arderne would have marvelled again, had she been able to read her companion's heart to-night.