"A little boy who lies helpless like you sent them, because he loves Jesus, and wishes you to love Him too."
"I never did before," said the boy; "I always thought it was so dreadfully hard. But these flowers—" he covered his face again, and sobbed.
Nellie touched his hand. "The little boy sent you another message, Tom."
"Did he? What?" he answered, wiping his eyes again on the sheet, and looking up.
"He said, 'Tell him I am like him; but the Lord Jesus has comforted me, and I don't mind so much now.'"
"Tell him then," said the boy, "that his Jesus has comforted me too; for though I cry, miss, it's only because I can't thank Him enough for wanting to save me."
Nellie passed her hand over his forehead, and pushed back the tangled hair. "I will tell him," she answered very tenderly; "and he will be so very glad, Tom. But now I must go, and I will try and come to-morrow, and see if I can make you a little more comfortable."
She made her way down the dingy staircase again, and stopped at the door of the front room, as she had promised.
It stood wide-open, and the woman came forward. She had been busy while Nellie was upstairs, and had whisked away many untidinesses, and had brushed up her hearth, and now stood with a smile of welcome.
Nellie was quick to perceive the change, and said, "You have made it tidy for me; thank you very much." Then stopping short, in her gentle, modest way, she said, "There's another visitor would willingly come in."