“There is no occasion for you to go home to-night; you may sleep there,” (pointing to a corner), “but I would like to pray with you now, and read a verse or two.”
Mrs Frog submitted, while her friend read to her words of comfort; pleaded that pardon and deliverance might be extended, and gave her loving words of counsel. Then the poor creature lay down in her corner, drew a warm blanket over her, and slept with a degree of comfort that she had not enjoyed for many a day.
When it was said by Mrs Frog that her son Bobby had gone to the bad, it must not be supposed that any very serious change had come over him. As that little waif had once said of himself, when in a penitent mood, he was about as bad as he could be, so couldn’t grow much badder. But when his sister lost her situation in the firm that paid her such splendid wages, and fell ill, and went into hospital in consequence, he lost heart, and had a relapse of wickedness. He grew savage with regard to life in general, and committed a petty theft, which, although not discovered, necessitated his absence from home for a time. It was while he was away that the scene which we have just described took place.
On the very next day he returned, and it so happened that on the same day Hetty was discharged from hospital “cured.” That is to say, she left the place a thin, tottering, pallid shadow, but with no particular form of organic disease about her.
She and her mother had received some food from one who cared for them, through the Bible-nurse.
“Mother, you’ve been drinkin’ again,” said Hetty, looking earnestly at her parent’s eyes.
“Well, dear,” pleaded Mrs Frog, “what could I do? You had all forsaken me, and I had nothin’ else to comfort me.”
“Oh! mother, darling mother,” cried Hetty, “do promise me that you will give it up. I won’t get ill or leave you again—God helping me; but it will kill me if you go on. Do promise.”
“It’s of no use, Hetty. Of course I can easily promise, but I can’t keep my promise. I know I can’t.”
Hetty knew this to be too true. Without the grace of God in the heart, she was well aware that human efforts must fail, sooner or later. She was thinking what to reply, and praying in her heart for guidance, when the door opened and her brother Bobby swaggered in with an air that did not quite accord with his filthy fluttering rags, unwashed face and hands, bare feet and unkempt hair.