ooked straight at Miss
Turner. And as he met the kindly glance of her keen, true eyes, a quick
smile parted his lips and shone like a flicker of pale sunlight all over
his worn features.

"You are very good, ma'am, so good that because you ask me I will tell
you. Well, I was only wishing that I had not got better. I have been
ailing for a while back--since last spring--and I was kind of looking
forward to getting away home soon," said Bambo, as calmly as if he were
talking of a journey to Barchester. "You see, ma'am, it's this way," he
explained, in an apologetic tone. "When a body's made like me--just an
object for folks to pity, laugh, jeer, and peep at, without a real
friend--the world is a poor place in comparison to that one the Lord has
prepared and waiting for all who love Him and want to go there."

"Don't, Bambo, don't!" implored Miss Turner, looking at the dwarf
through a mist of tears. "You make me feel that I, who have always been
strong and well, am one of those who have done so little to make life a
less burdensome possession, a pleasanter thing for such as you. Do not
be so anxious to depart, dear friend. The little ones love you; your old
grandfather needs you. Here you shall always find a home. At Firgrove we
will make a place for you as soon as you shall be able to fill it.
Meantime you have nothing to do but try to get well. Perfect rest and
plenty of nourishment--these are the doctor's orders, and there's
nothing for it but obedience."

The dwarf drank in Miss Turner's words, hardly daring to believe he was
in his sober senses, for they sounded almost too good to be true. He to
stay on at Firgrove with the dear boy and sweet little missy! What had
he done that he should be so kindly treated, so generously dealt with?
Nothing, Bambo said to himself, less than nothing, for there had been
scarcely anything to do.

Nothing? Ah! was it nothing to be willing to lay down his life for those
friends of his? nothing to give the cup of cold water in the name of
Jesus to two of His children? "Verily, inasmuch as ye have done it unto
one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."

From that day the dwarf grew rapidly better, and before the flowers were
all gone out of the borders, or the last red and yellow leaves had
fluttered from the lime tree on the lawn, he was able to saunter up and
down the gravel paths, his hand on Darby's shoulder, the baby holding
fast by one of his fingers, with