"No, Annie 'top with Daddy!" repeated the little one, beginning to cry at the idea of being taken away.
"Oh! I'm sure I don't want you, you'd be only a plague; there's nothing so tiresome as having children dangling about one in a steamer; one's always afraid of the stupid brats falling overboard," cried Ann, with a passionate jerk. "It's time I was off," she said, rising from the table; "your father will have had enough of your company, I guess, before I come back in the evening."
But here Mrs. Laver was wrong. Never had the invalid more enjoyed a walk than he did the quiet stroll which he took into Kensington Gardens on that warm afternoon, to give his pale little girl fresh air. How pleasant felt the breeze on his cheek, how bright were the rays of sunshine that streamed here and there through the trees, what a thankful heart was lifted up to God from him who so lately had left a sick-bed, as he sat quietly on the green grass, with his darling playing at his feet!
Annie's simple prattle was to her father's ear sweeter than any music, and scarcely disturbed the holy thoughts which were passing through his mind.
"Much as I delight in my child, should I be willing that she should remain always what she is now, small, weak, and knowing little? I look for growth in her young frame, and if from month to month she never grew taller, I should know that some disease must be stunting my child. So we are told in the Scripture to 'grow in grace,' * every passing month should leave us more earnest, devout, and humble. If our religion be not a growing one, it is a stunted one, nay, we have reason to fear lest it be dead altogether. Faith, true living faith, must expand into holiness, as the bud opens into the flower, and the dawn brightens into the day!"
* 2 Peter iii. 18.
Annie and her father were very happy together; and when Martin slowly walked homewards, holding the hand of the little prattler who trotted by his side, it seemed to him that but for one trial, he would be one of the happiest men upon earth. But the remembrance of his wife was to Martin like a heavy black cloud in an otherwise brilliant sky. Silently, he prayed for Ann as he walked, though little knowing how much at that moment she needed his prayers.
Scanty as was the evening meal, Annie made it a very merry one. No butter had been left from the breakfast, so she played at spreading the dry bread with her spoon, and when her father cut it into pieces, and called them soldiers, the child ate it as contentedly as if it had been iced-cake. Then a few empty reels to play with, made the little one perfectly happy; and while she rolled them backwards and forwards on the floor, Martin could quietly enjoy the pleasure of reading.
First, he read his Bible, then a book which had been lent to him by the chaplain of the hospital which he had recently quitted. It contained the Memoir of a missionary's wife, * who had laboured amongst the Jews in the Turkish province of Moldavia. Martin felt particularly interested in the account given of Nahum, a convert, as conveyed in such passages as these, which I extract from the published letters of the lady:—
"I wish I could bring before you an aged man, highly esteemed among the Jews, and also by the Rabbis, a respectable shopkeeper, a good Hebrew scholar . . . He is of an acute and philosophical turn of mind, and was a bitter opposer of Christianity. Fancy this man brought to the feet of Jesus, and you will see our most interesting Rabbi Nahum . . . He says that in hours of need he has prayed in the name of Christ, and is now praying for strength to confess Christ openly; but he says Abraham was praised because he was willing to give up his one child; but he would need to be nine times as strong as Abraham to give up his nine. He desires the prayers of Christ's people."