Amy shook her head. "It's too awful. What can I tell her?" she faltered.
"It is indeed inexpressibly sad, but I think I can tell the child without its seeming awful to her, and yet tell her the truth," he replied. "Shall I try to explain?"
"Yes, and let me listen, too, if you can rob the event of any of its unutterable horror."
"Will Bertie come and listen to me if I will tell her about papa?"
The child climbed into his lap at once, and turned her large blue eyes up to his in perfect faith.
"Don't you remember that papa spoke last night of leaving you; but said you would surely meet again?"
At this the child's lip began to quiver, and she said: "But papa always comes and kisses me good-by before he goes away."
"Perhaps he did, Bertie, when you were asleep in your crib last night."
"Oh yes, now I'm sure he did if he's gone away, 'cause I 'member he once woke me up kissing me good-by."
"I think he kissed you very softly, and so you didn't wake. Our dear Saviour, Jesus, came last night, and papa went away with him. But he loves you just as much as ever, and he isn't sick any more, and you will surely see him again."