Bertie looked up with a sudden smile.
“He is very good, isn’t He? I should like to belong to Him always.”
“Yes, Bertie, go to Him, and leave your burden of sin at the foot of His cross. Be one of His own little children—His faithful little soldiers, ready to obey Him and to fight for him as well as to love and trust Him; and then, whatever happens to you here, whatever may be His will about you, whether He gives you back to your earthly parents or not, you will always have a loving Father in heaven, a Friend and Guardian in His Son, and in His good time, I trust, a Comforter and Counsellor in the good Spirit He will breathe into your heart. Whatever else may happen to you, Bertie, you will never be alone.”
The child could not understand all this speech, yet he entered into its spirit, and it comforted him strangely. He felt as if once he had known something of the grand truths now unfolded before him, as it were, for the first time, and the sweet, undefined sense of familiarity brought them home to his heart with a peculiar sense of warmth and light.
He looked up with one of his rare smiles.
“I think I understand. I think I had forgotten about Jesus; but I shan’t forget any more. I love Him very much now.”
“And you will not love Him any less as time goes on,” answered Uncle Fred, in the grave, kind way that Bertie liked so much. “And now, my little boy, I am going to take you home, and tell the Squire all about my naughty nephews.”
Bertie looked rather disturbed.
“I don’t want them to be punished. They did not mean to be unkind. They did not understand.”
“Well, well, we will not talk of that any more. They were old enough to know better; but if it distresses you, they shall get off easily. Do you feel quite able to walk home now?”