“Did you think He had forgotten you, Bertie?”
The child hung his head.
“I think I did once. It was naughty, I know, but it did seem rather like it, didn’t it? But I know now that He hasn’t.”
“Why?”
The child looked up suddenly with one of his rare and peculiarly sweet smiles.
“I think partly because He sent me here to you; and you are so very, very kind to me.”
The Squire looked into the child’s face, a strange softening coming into his own. Then he bent his head and kissed Bertie’s brow.
“Perhaps He has given us to each other to make both our lives more bright and less empty.”
The child looked up quickly, his face flushing with keen pleasure.
“But—but,”—he said, tremulously—“how can I do anything for you?”