"Uncle what?"
"Uncle Herbert; but don't you go for to mention his name, or you'll get old Andy into trouble."
"I'll only mention him to God," said Harebell, rather loftily; "and I'll ask God not to tell anybody, if you like."
Andy turned away his head.
"'Tis something scandalous the way she talks of the Almighty," he informed Goody later on; "and yet 'tis done quite innocent like. 'Tis to be hoped the Almighty understands her, for I'm sure I don't."
"A good lot has happened to me to-day, darling Chris," said Harebell softly in the ear of her pony, as she wished him good-night that evening. She was getting quite accustomed to give him her confidences.
"It's a great comfort to tell secrets to some one who can't talk," she said to herself.
"You see, Chris, I've heard about one new man, and I've made friends with another, and it's very exciting to hear about an uncle of mine who I never knew belonged to me. I'm very sorry Uncle Herbert was so cross and ran away, but I dare say he's quite good now, sitting in some corner by himself and thinking about Aunt Diana. It's dreadful not to be able to tell him how unhappy she is without him. If he knew she wanted him, he would come tearing back to-morrow. Of course my best plan will be to ask God if He will be kind enough to make him understand. In a dream, or something like that. But I'll leave Him to do it the way He likes best. Isn't it nice, Chris, to have God knowing about everybody and everything and able to speak all over the world in the same minute? wonder if you understand about Him? He made you, so I expect He speaks to you sometimes."
She was a long time over her prayers that evening. Goody waxed rather impatient.
"It's just chattering, not praying that you're doing," she said a little severely, when at last with a happy sigh, Harebell got up from her knees.