“I cannot tell, sweeting, what He felt in the days of His flesh at Nazareth; but I can tell thee a better thing—that He doth feel now, and for thee. ‘I am poor and needy, but the Lord careth for me.’ Keep that in thine heart, little Christie; it shall be like a soft pillow for thy weary head.”
Alice rose to go home, and tied on her blue hood.
“O Aunt Alice, must you go? Couldn’t you tarry till Father comes?”
“I think not, my dear heart. Tell thy father I had need to haste away, but I will come again and see both him and thee to-morrow.”
To-morrow!
“Give him my loving commendations. Good-night, my child.” And Alice hurried away.