The last words were spoken rather to herself than to Miss Gertrude. She sighed; but her face was quite untroubled as she rose, and laying down her Bible, began to arrange the things in the room.
“You always say, ‘child of God,’” said Gertrude, wishing still to prolong the conversation. “Does that mean just a Christian, or does it mean something more?”
“Yes. ‘As many as received Him, to them gave He power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on His name.’ Yes, it means just the same. You see, it seems to bring us very near to Him, speaking of Him as a Father, and of Christ as an Elder Brother. You know a child will never want for anything that a loving father has to give, if it is for his good; and so surely the children of God may well rest content with what He appoints for them. The only wonder is that they are ever otherwise than content.”
Gertrude made no reply, and there was a long silence.
“‘A child of God.’ ‘Content with what He sends them.’ There is something wonderful in it. She is one of them, I dare say; and that is what makes her so different from almost any one I know. I wish I could understand it. It must be worth a great deal to know that one is a child of God. I wish she could tell me more about it.”
But Christie did not seem inclined to say more on any subject that night. She moved here and there in silence, putting things to rights in the room. Gertrude rose at last.
“That is a hint that it is time for me to go,” she said.
Christie laughed.
“Well, yes. You know Mrs Seaton was displeased to find us sitting up the other night when she came home. It is nearly ten.”
“Oh, she won’t be home to-night till the small hours have struck. Miss Atherton will take care of that. There is no fear of her finding us up to-night.”