Father's wandering children.
"When she had gone quite out of sight, and they were taking another good
look at the changed rooms, that seemed so grand to them all, Lolly said
thoughtfully to Alice,--
"Do you think the great King will like to come here now?"
"He _is_ here," said Alice reverently. "Don't you feel it, Lolly? We
never see him, you know, as we see each other; but we feel that he is
near, just as you feel that your mother is in the room even when the
darkness hides her from your eyes."
Lolly repeated the little prayer softly, "O my heavenly Father, I will
try to love thee. Wilt thou not come unto me, and be with me wherever I
am, and help me to be thy child?" And, as she said the words, she knew
that God was with her, and that from that hour there was a Presence in
the house that would drive away all the gloom, and make such brightness
as filled the cottage of her little friend.
It was time for Alice to go; but she lingered a little while longer to
teach Maddie how to prepare the supper, so that when her mother came home
weary from her labour, there might be no more hard work for her to do,
but real comfort and rest.
"Now, don't get tired of housekeeping," said she, as she tied on her sun-
bonnet to go. "I shall run over some day to see how you get on; and I'm
sure it's so much prettier to be sweet, and clean, and tidy, that you'll
love to keep the house nice." And away she tripped to make things
pleasant for her own dear, hard-working mother.
Sunny little girl! She knew how many tiresome steps her diligent hands
and loving heart could save her poor widowed mother; and in everything
she did there was a tender thought of the warm heart against which her
infant head had lain when her little feet and hands were weak and
helpless.
She was glad now that they had grown strong to aid, that she could give
back some of the care and effort. Alice never dreamed of growing
impatient in her mother's service. She did not wait to be asked to help
her, but watched for opportunities, and so proved a great blessing and
treasure in the lowly cottage home, that would have been very dismal and
sad without her sunny, buoyant little body.
CHAPTER VIII.
Peter Rand and his wife came lagging up the road as the sun was setting.
They had passed an uncommonly laborious day, and were completely tired
out with their toil. They were very silent, and were thinking what a
sad, miserable home was theirs
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