"Ah, well!" said the mother. "I suppose not; but there's lots of time yet. When baby gets a bit older, and Tom goes to school, I shall have a bit more time; and then, Angel, I can sit still a bit and think about it."
"Only, perhaps, as He's been knocking twenty-seven years," said Angel, "it's such a very long time, He may get tired of waiting, and walk away."
"Oh no! I hope not," said her mother; and she got up and bustled about the room, and sent Angel off to bed. She hoped the child would forget about it before morning.
But when she went upstairs, after a few minutes, to see if Angel was in bed, she found her kneeling in her nightgown before the window. There was no light in the room, but the blind was up, and the moonlight was streaming on the child's fair hair and clasped hands.
"She looks like one of the little angels in heaven," said the mother to herself.
Angel had not heard her mother come upstairs, so Mrs. Blyth stood quietly on the last step, and listened to Angel's little prayer.
"Oh, Jesus, please come in to-night! Oh it was very bad to keep You outside when You did all that for me! Oh, Jesus, please don't knock any longer, but just walk into my heart, and please never go away again? Amen."
And then Angel crept into bed, and her mother wiped her eyes, and came in and kissed her.
[CHAPTER IV]
THE LOUD KNOCK IN PLEASANT PLACE