might make a mistake. Wouldn't it be dreadful if
he hurt his own prodigal son! And I expect Tommy will look very like a
poacher. He is sure to have ragged, dirty clothes. If I was----" Here
Milly paused, and gazed dreamily in front of her for some minutes in
silence.

"Well?" inquired Sir Edward, looking at his little niece with interest
as she sat in her big chair, her elbows supported by her knees, and her
chin resting in her hands, "are you going into a brown study?"

"I was just thinking if I was a prodigal son--I mean a real one, not
just playing at it, as I do--I would rather be one of God's prodigal
sons, than belonging to any one else."

"Why?"

"Because I would know for certain He would meet me and take me back.
Nurse told me she had a cousin who ran away and made himself a soldier,
and when he was sorry and wanted to come home, his father shut the door
in his face, and wouldn't let him in. And then there's Tommy, I can't
help s'posing that his father mightn't know him. But God can't make
mistakes. It must be lovely just to run right into God's arms, and hear
Him saying, _'Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him.'_ I should
love to have Him say that to me."

Milly's little face glowed with pleasure at the thought, and she turned
her expressive eyes toward her uncle, who lay with knitted brows
listening to her.

"And supposing if God would not receive you; supposing you had stayed
away so long, and had refused to listen to His voice when He called, and
then when you did want to come back, you felt it would be too late, what
would you do then?"

Milly smiled.

"Why, uncle, it would be never too late for God, would it? Maxwell said
he would be glad to see Tommy if he came back in the middle of the
night, and God would never turn one of his prodigal sons away. He loves
them so that he sent Jesus to die for them. He would never say He
couldn't have them back again."

Sir Edward said no more, and after another pause the child went on.

"I was asking Mrs. Maxwell the other day if she had some best clothes
for Tommy when he came home, and she took me upstairs into his little
room, and opened a long drawer, and told me to look inside. And there
were his best Sunday coat and waistcoat and trousers, and a silk
handkerchief with lavender in it, and a necktie with yellow and red
stripes, and she told me they had been there for nine years, and she
shakes them out and brushes them every Saturday. He didn't