'Nurse says I must say my prayers in bed. I've always said them to God afore. I think I'll say this one to Jesus.'
'Do, dear. It will be just the same.'
So Bobby spoke aloud. He had not yet got to the stage of praying in silence.
'Please, Jesus, I want my heart washed white, quite white, please, so that I shan't be outside the gate. And please will you do it now, for I don't like waiting, and tell me when you've done it, so that I can say thank you.'
There was great silence in that room. The earnestness of the child made the grown-up person very grave.
She had never yet in her life come to this crisis. And then in a very few minutes came an emphatic 'Thank you very much,' from Bobby's lips as he wriggled down amongst his pillows with a sigh of satisfaction.
'I feel Jesus has done it,' he said, with a nod of his curly head. 'He just put His hand on my heart, and it all turned white.'
'I'm so glad, darling.'
Lady Isobel stooped to kiss him with tears in her eyes.
'And now, Bobby, you must always try to be a good boy, and love Jesus Christ, and do what He tells you to. Isn't there a little hymn: