'Oh, Alick!
'Oh, Theo!'
After the first cries of greeting there was a silence. Theo's arms were tight round her restored brother's neck, and Alick rested his tear-stained cheek against his sister's. They were alone in the room, but, in truth, the boy would not have cared if all Northbourne had been looking on.
'Theo,' he sobbed out presently, 'it was awful!'
'Yes, dear, it must have been,' whispered Theo sympathetically, tightening her arms. 'It was not what you expected?'
'It was awful!' repeated Alick. As yet he could find no words to picture his experience of life out in the hard world. 'And,' he went on, lifting up his tear-stained face, 'I am more sorry than I can ever tell that I did it, Theo—sorry and ashamed.'
'Have you told God that, Alick?' asked Theo softly, in his ear.
'Yes, I have,' was the grave, equally low reply. 'I've put it on to the end of my prayers, night and morning. And—perhaps He will forgive me some day, if I—if I can do something, work out something, you know, to show that I am really and truly sorry. Don't you think I could manage something of the sort, Theo?' asked Alick earnestly, if awkwardly.
'No, Alick, I don't!' said Theo abruptly; and the boy's face fell. Of late the boy had been full of this new desire to efface his wrong-doing by some means or other himself. 'Most certainly, dear old boy,' went on his sister, more gently, 'you cannot "blot out" your transgression by your own efforts. Don't you know that we have, each and every one of us, in the heavens, that great High Priest who is interceding for us always, always? He, our dear Lord, has already done that "something" which you are groping to do in your weak, small way. He has worked out your redemption—yours and mine. What you have to do is to carry your sins to the foot of the cross, where the great "something" was accomplished for us. You remember the hymn—
'"I lay my sins on Jesus,
The spotless Lamb of God."