"My heart leapt into my throat as I heard her speak these words of her husband. Was it possible that this dreadful estrangement was to end, and that my master and his wife would at length be reconciled, after all these weary years?
"My lady was lying back in her chair, gazing now at her boy, now at the bright clouds which were floating in the heavens. Ah, my lady, if we were but to follow God's teaching, and learn the lessons He sends us every day and every hour, how much unhappiness should we be spared! But it seems as if there was a wicked spirit within us which is continually dropping poison into the fairest things, for the mere pleasure of destroying their beauty and making us wretched.
"There was an angelic expression on my lady's face as she encouraged her boy to speak of his father.
"'I have often wished to tell you,' said Master Christian, 'that papa is not strong--not as strong as I am. He soon gets tired, while I can run about all day. This morning he often stopped to rest, and once he threw himself upon the ground, and fell fast asleep. I sat by his side and listened to the birds, who were all so happy, while papa's face was filled with pain. Yes, mamma, he was in great pain, and he sighed, oh, so heavily! as though sleep was hurting him instead of doing him good. And he spoke in his sleep, and his words made me tremble. "I call God to witness"--that was what he said, mamma--"I call God to witness that there was in my mind no design to do wrong." And then he said something about sin and sorrow springing from the flower of innocence. A bird was flying near us, stopping to look at us, and not at all frightened, because I was so very, very quiet. "Little bird," I whispered, "that my father could hold in the palm of his hand, do you know what he is dreaming of, and will you, because he is my father and a good man, do something to make him happy?" Oh, mamma, the bird at that very moment began to sing, and papa smiled in his sleep, and all the pain in his face disappeared. That bird, mamma, was a fairy-bird, and knew that papa ought not to suffer. And presently papa awoke, and folded me tight in his arms, and we sat there quite still, for a long, long time, listening to the singing of the bird. Oh, mamma, mamma! why will you not love papa as I do?'
"Who could resist such pleading? My lady could not.
"'My child,' she said, 'I will send for papa to-morrow.'
"'You will--you will!' cried the child. 'Oh, how glad I am! Papa will be here to-morrow, and we shall live together as poor people do, and be happy, as they are!' He sprang from her side, ready to fly out of the room. 'Shall I go and tell papa now? Yes, I may, I may--say that I may, mamma!'
"'Not till to-morrow, Christian. Come and sit quietly by me, and talk to me.'
"He obeyed her, though it was difficult for him to control himself, his joy was so great. He devised numberless schemes in which he and his parents were to take part. They were to go here, and to go there--always together. His friends were to be their friends, and they were to share each other's pleasures. Rambles in the woods, hunting for wild flowers, visits to poor cottages--he planned all these things in the delight of his heart.
"So they passed the day, the mother and child, and when night came he begged again to be allowed to go to his father and tell him what was in store for him. But my lady was firm.