“Bless us, child, you’re a queer ’un; but the Bible sartin’ do say as He’ll receive all as come to Him. Yes, in course you can go; but I can’t tell you the exact way. There, Faith, child, why don’t you go to Sunday-school, same as the other little lads and lasses about? They teach everythink about coming to Jesus in Sunday-school.”
“I wish with h’all my heart I could go,” answered Faith.
“Well, child, I see nothink agen it. There’s one jest round the corner, and the bell’s a-ringing now; but there, I can’t stay another moment.”
Mrs Mason hurried away, and Faith still sat still; but a devouring wish was now possessing her. If she only could just once go to Sunday-school and hear about Jesus, and learn that He was really alive, and that she could take Roy to Him! Oh! if only it were possible that Roy might receive this great and wonderful blessing, why it would be worth even her father’s great anger, should he learn that she had disobeyed him. Faith trembled and hesitated, and finally rose to her feet. If only Roy would awake, she could take him with her. But no; Roy was very tired and very sound asleep. By the time little Roy awoke, Sunday-school would be over, and she would have lost all hope of hearing of Jesus for another week.
Suppose she left Roy just for once—just for the first and last time in all her life—she would only be an hour away, and in that hour what possible harm could happen to the little child? and she would learn so much, oh! so much, which could help him by-and-by.
Yes; she thought she might venture. She would have returned long before her father came back, most likely long before Roy awoke. It was worth the little risk for the sake of the great gain. She placed the fireguard carefully before the fire, kissed her little brother, and with a beating heart slipped out.
No; there was no possible fear for little Roy.