Evidently he intended to have said more, but, overcome by his emotion, he sat down and hid his face in his hands.
"I'm glad the chap found 'im," said Benny to his sister, as they hurried homeward, "for he seemed desp'rate cut up 'bout it."
But Nelly did not answer, she was too full of what she had seen, and heard, and felt, to speak.
The next evening, long before service-time, they were waiting around the chapel door, and when at length the door was opened, they were welcomed by the same gentleman that had spoken to them the previous evening, and put into the same pew. And once more was Benny delighted with the music, and once more was he soothed to sleep by the sermon.
But not so Nelly. As the preacher explained that wonderful text, "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him might not perish, but have everlasting life," she seemed to see more clearly what the preacher meant on the previous night. And while he dwelt on the word "whosoever," she felt that she was included in this invitation of mercy. In fact, it seemed to her as if a great deal the preacher had said had been for her special benefit, and that for her the Saviour had provided a home more beautiful than any of the pictures she had seen in Joe Wrag's fire.
As they were leaving, near the close of the service, a young gentleman placed his hand on Benny's shoulder, and said,
"Well, my little man, I hope you have found the Saviour."
"Lor' a massy!" said Benny, with a look of surprise upon his face, "are that little chap lost agin? He can't be well looked arter, that's sartin."
"You don't understand," said the young man; "but perhaps I should have asked if the Saviour has found you?"
"Not that I knows on," said Benny stoutly. "Nobody finds me, I finds myself."