“The child ceased singing and looked up at her in some surprise.
“‘I want to know——,’ said Clary,—and then suddenly recollecting her own poor dress, and comparing it with the little picture before her, she stopped short. But the words must come—they were spoken almost before Clary herself was aware.
“‘Will you please to tell me who the Saviour is?’
“And then blushing and frightened she could almost have run away, but something held her fast.
“The child’s eyes grew more and more wondering.
“‘Come in,’ she said gravely, getting up from her chair, and with some difficulty keeping the book and the little shawl in their places.
“But Clary drew back.
“‘O yes—come in,’ said the child, tucking the little book under her arm, and holding out her hand to Clary. ‘Please come in—mother will tell you.’
“And following her little conductor, Clary found herself the next minute in a pleasant, plain, and very neat room.
“‘Mother,’ said the child opening a door into the next room, but still keeping her eye upon Clary lest she should run away.—‘Mother—here’s a girl who never heard about Jesus.’