h an answer. Then he said,--

"I don't see that it touches me any way, sir."

"On honour?" said Mr. Richmond gently. "That same Friend has done the
same kindness for you."

Norton looked as if he wished it were not true; and as if very
unwilling to admit anything.

"I wish you could hear what I hear," said Mr. Richmond. "So many
voices!--"

"What, sir?" asked both the children at once.

"So many voices!" repeated Mr. Richmond. "I hear the voice of love now,
from the skies, speaking that soft, sweet 'Come!' in the heart. I hear
my own voice giving the message. I hear the promise to them who seek
for glory, honour, and immortality. And I hear the sound of the harps
of those who have a new song to sing, which none can learn but the
hundred and forty and four thousand which have been redeemed from the
earth. And I hear the rejoicing in heaven of those who will say, 'Thou
wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood, out of every
kindred and tongue and people and nation; and hast made us unto our God
kings and priests, and we shall reign on the earth.' And then there is
a throne and a judgment seat, and I hear a voice that says, 'Well done,
good and faithful servant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.'--"

Mr. Richmond's voice had fallen a little; his eyes were cast down.
Norton's eyes were downcast too, and his face; it did not respond, as
Matilda's face did; and when the party rose from table a minute or two
afterwards, Norton made use of his liberty to quit the room and the
house. Matilda brought her tub of water to wash up the cups and plates.
Mr. Richmond had gone off to his study.

The little girl touched the china with soft delicate fingers; lifted
each piece and set it down with gentle noiselessness; the little clink
of the china keeping measure, perhaps, with the thoughts which moved
and touched, so gently, in her heart. Presently Mr. Richmond came out
again. He walked up and down the little room several times; it was a
small walk, for a very few of his steps took him from one corner to the
other; then he came and stood beside the table where Matilda was at
work. The child stopped and looked up at him wistfully. Their eyes met;
and a smile of much love and confidence was exchanged between the two.

"Mr. Richmond,"--said Matilda, "isn't it difficult, sometimes, to
_keep_ hearing those voices?"

You could see the light spring into the young man's eyes; but he
answered very quietly, "Why, Matilda?