Very few words were spoken between them at such times. When Christie asked a question or made a remark, there was a clearness and simplicity in her way of speaking, a strength and freshness in what she said, that often surprised as well as interested him. He did not always understand her, and yet he could not believe that she was speaking of things too high for her.
The thought flashed upon his mind one day, as he sat by her bed. What if among these things which were revealed to her but hidden from him, lay the secret of the happiness he had been so long and so vainly pursuing? There are things hidden from the wise and prudent, and revealed only to babes—even to such little ones as this suffering child.
Looking up as the thought passed through his mind, he met her eyes fixed wistfully upon him. She withdrew the gaze quickly, in some confusion, but in a moment looked up again.
“What is it, Christie? You looked as though you were afraid. I would read your thoughts. What grave question are you meditating now?”
Christie smiled.
“No, I was not afraid. I was wondering what could make you so kind to me. I need not have wondered, though. I know quite well why it is.”
“Do you? Well, suppose you tell me what you mean by ‘so kind,’ and then why it is that I am ‘so kind’ to you. I should really like to know,” said Mr Sherwood, laughing.
“I need not tell you the first,” she said, with a smile. “You know that very well, and it would take me too long to tell all. I think the reason of your kindness is because God has put it into your heart to be so. It is one of the ways He takes to help me to bear my troubles.”
The last words were spoken very gravely.
“Then it seems you don’t think I am one of the good people who take delight in kind offices.”