'I promised mother,' whispered Meg in his ear, 'never to let nobody come in, for fear they'd find out the box under the bed, and get into it somehow. We was afraid for the money, you know, but it's all safe for your mate, father; and here's the key, and a letter as came for mother after she was dead.'
'But this letter's from me to Peggy,' said her father, turning it over and over; 'leastways it was wrote by the chaplain at the hospital, to tell her what she must do. The money in the box was mine, Meg, no mate's; and I sent her word to take some of it for herself and the children.'
'Mother thought it belonged to a mate of yours,' said Meg, 'and we was the more afeared of it being stole.'
'It's my fault,' replied Robert Fleming. 'I told that to mother for fear she'd waste it if she knew it were mine. But if I'd only known——'
He could not finish his sentence, but stroked Meg's hair with his large hand, and she felt some hot tears fall from his eyes upon her forehead.
'Don't cry, father,' she said, lifting her small feeble hand to his face. 'God took care of us, and baby too, though she's dead. There's nothink now that He hasn't done. He's done everythink I asked Him.'
'Did you ask Him to make me a good father?' said Fleming.
'Why, you're always good to us, father,' answered Meg, in a tone of loving surprise. 'You never beat us much when you get drunk. But Robin and me always say, "Pray God, bless father." I don't quite know what bless means, but it's something good.'
'Ah!' said Fleming, with a deep sigh, 'He has blessed me. When I was ill He showed me what a poor sinner I was, and how Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, "of whom I am chief." Sure I can say that if anybody can. But it says in the Bible, "He loved me, and gave Himself for me." Yes, little Meg, He died to save me. I felt it. I believed it. I came to see that I'd nobody to fly to but Jesus if I wanted to be aught else but a poor, wicked, lost rascal, as got drunk, and was no better than a brute. And so I turned it over and over in my mind, lying abed; and now, please God, I'm a bit more like being a Christian than I was. I reckon that's what bless means, little Meg.'
As he spoke the door opened, and Mrs Blossom came in with Robin. It was twelve months since Robin had seen his father, and now he was shy, and hung back a little behind Mrs Blossom; but Meg called to him in a joyful voice.