"Because you are kind, and wanted me to have a holiday."
"It was not altogether that," said the girl, looking down on the young boy at her side; "I wanted you to tell me more about that 'no sorrow.'"
"Why, I told you all I knew."
"Ah, but how can we get it?"
The boy hesitated. "You must come with me to the mission-hall on Sunday night, and hear the preacher yourself, Clarice. Then you will know all about it."
"I cannot do that; mother would not let me, nor father either, I fear."
"But they let me."
"Yes; but they had a talk about it the first Sunday evening you were gone. Mother said she did not like you to go at all, but father said as long as you did your work well he did not mind where you went on Sundays, as you are a boy. So you really must tell me more, Owen. No one but you can help me."
"I don't know what to tell you. I don't quite understand it myself yet. He said we were to read the Bible and pray, and seek the salvation God offers. He said the Lord Jesus loves us, and wants us to be His children."
"Are you His child?"