Mousey assented eagerly, adding that she expected he had run away from fear of Mr. Harding.
"Dear, dear, I'm afraid it's a bad business. But don't you worry about it!" Mr. Dawson advised. "It will all come right in the end—things always do if we have faith to leave them in wiser hands than our own."
"Yes," his wife agreed, "that's very true. No good comes of worrying, but we can ask God to help those who seem powerless to help themselves."
"Mother used to say that," the little girl said, a smile lighting up her countenance. "I do hope John Monday has not gone away with that wicked young man. No, I don't believe he has!"
"I don't believe it either," Aunt Eliza said warmly. "I can't bear to think of the boy homeless and friendless, and perhaps wanting a meal's meat," she added, sighing.
"That's looking on the dark side, indeed," her husband told her. "John Monday struck me as being a strong, able-bodied lad, well fitted to earn his living in ways more arduous than in mending watches and jewellery. I dare say he'll find a niche to fit him somewhere or other."
[CHAPTER XXIII]
JOHN MONDAY REAPPEARS UPON THE SCENE
THE thought of John Monday was the one unhappiness which clouded Mousey's otherwise happy visit. The day after she had received her cousin's letter, she wrote and tried to explain to him how troubled she was at the boy's disappearance; and begged Mr. Harding not to believe that he had left him to join Herbert Hambly. To this letter she received no reply, as Mr. Harding was anything but pleased that she did not accept his theory concerning John Monday, and was, besides, annoyed that she had not condoled with him on the loss of his money. The truth was, Mousey had thought very little of the burglary in comparison with its result as affecting her cousin's assistant.
The little girl had been to see her parents' grave several times, and the day before her visit was to come to an end she went with her aunt to take a parting look at the spot.