"All right, Gran; I won't."
Melina was quite content to remain indoors, for it had commenced to rain. She kept up a beautiful fire in the kitchen, and sat by it.
"It is so nice to be warm all through," she said to herself, as she enjoyed the pleasant heat; "Gran says she can't afford to keep in a fire all day, but I don't believe her—I don't believe she's as poor as she pretends."
By and by she fell to thinking of the little gentleman again, and mused on all he had said to her about Him he had called the one perfect Friend. She knew very little of God, and always thought of Him as a stern, merciless judge who took delight in punishing wrongdoers, never as a loving father, and, sad to tell, she never prayed. Mrs. Berryman kept her door shut against clergymen and ministers, and, as she never went to any place of worship, her granddaughter did not go either, the consequence being that the child had had no religious teaching except the little she had received at school, which had made scarcely any impression upon her.
"The little gentleman said he should pray for me," thought Melina; "I wonder if he's praying for me now, and, if so, what he's asking God to do for me—I should very much like to know."
[CHAPTER III]
MRS. BERRYMAN'S HOARD
THE little gentleman, whose name was Raymond Blackmore, had taken a house called South View, in Hawstock, a pretty detached villa surrounded by a garden; he had been in residence there only a week. Some months previously he had returned to England from India, where he had spent many years in the employ of a firm of colonial merchants, and, subsequently, he had paid the Vicar of Hawstock, the Reverend Paul Wise, who was an old friend of his, a visit, during which he had discovered that his friend was greatly overworked, and that he could not afford to pay for a curate out of his meagre stipend. Mr. Blackmore had not remarked upon these facts at the time; but, after he had left, he had written to the vicar, and suggested returning to Hawstock as a lay-helper.
"I want work," he had written; "I know you can find me plenty. Let me come."
He had come; and now, on the morning following the one on which he had made the acquaintance of Melina Berryman, he stood at his garden gate, after breakfast, watching the passers-by, most of whom were children on their way to the board schools. A great many of the children were bright-faced little people, warmly dressed, who were talking and laughing merrily; but some were scantily clad, and looked pinched and miserable, for the rain had ceased during the night, and early morning had brought a sharp frost, so that the air was now searching and cold.