“I never like to read the rest, about their taking counsel to slay Him, so soon after they had seen all this. Sometimes I can hardly make it seem true, it is so sad. But I like the story, oh, so much!” And she read again slowly, “‘Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus.’” And again, “‘Jesus said unto her, I am the Resurrection, and the Life: he that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and he that liveth and believeth in Me shall never die.’”
“Do you like it, aunt?”
“Yes, love; it is a fine chapter.”
“It’s maybe not better than many and many a one here,” said Lilias, slowly turning over the leaves of her Bible; “but I happened on it once when I needed something to help me, and I’ve liked it ever since.”
“And what time was that?” asked her aunt, much interested.
“Oh, it was long ago,” answered Lilias, lowering her voice, and looking to see if her mother still slept. “It was just after father died. Mother was ill, and I thought God was sending us too much trouble; and I came upon this chapter, and it did me so much good! Not that I thought Jesus would raise up my father again, but I knew He could do greater things than that if He pleased; and I knew He had not forgotten us in our troubles, more than He had forgotten Mary and Martha, though He stayed still in the same place where He was, two whole days after they had sent for Him because their brother was sick. No trouble has seemed so bad since then; and none ever will again, come what may.”
“Come what may!” Little was Lilias thinking of all that might be hidden in those words. She gradually came to know, as that night and the next day and night passed away, and the dawning of the third day found her mother no better, but rather worse. Mrs Blair had concealed her own anxiety, for the children’s sake. Believing her sister’s illness to be the consequence of over-exertion, she had thought that rest and quiet would be sufficient to restore her; but these three days had made no change for the better, and, fearing the worst, she asked Lilias if she knew any doctor to whom they might apply.
“Yes; there is Dr Gordon, who attended my father and Archie. We have not seen him for a long time, but I think I could find his house.” And, with trembling eagerness, she prepared to go out.
It rained violently, but Lilias scarcely knew it, as she ran rather than walked along the street. It was still early, and the doctor had not gone out. When the servant carried in the little girl’s message, he repeated the name several times, as if to recall it.
“Mrs Elder!—I had lost sight of her this long time. Yes, certainly I will go. Where does she live now?”