frocks never keep clean after half an hour,' she said with a little
sigh.

'You have to get a nice white frock from Jesus,' went on Bobby, pleased
with his role as teacher.

'He washes your dirty one in His blood. You know, when He died on the
cross, that's how He shed His blood. And it turns all dirty things
white and clean. Lady Is'bel teached me it did.'

'I don't believe Jesus Christ really washes frocks,' said True. 'I've
never heard He does. It would be--be like a washerwoman.'

Bobby leant across to her eagerly.

'You don't un'stand prop'ly. It's a inside white frock over our
hearts. Nobody sees it but Jesus and the angels at the gate--and God.
Our hearts are quite dirty and black till we ask Jesus to wash them and
put the white dress on. Why, I had mine done long ago--d'reckly I
heard 'bout it. You ought to have yours. You'll never get inside the
gates if you don't, and it would be quite dre'fful to be shut out.

'When is it?' asked True, deliberating.

'When is what?'

'The gates being opened.'

'I think it's when you die, you want to get frough,' said Bobby.

'Then I can wait till I die!' said True.

'What a silly girl you are!'

Bobby's tone was almost contemptuous.

'I'm not silly.'

'Yes you are. Fancy waiting when you can have it now. Why, you might
die in a hurry, and then Jesus might be doing something else, and
mightn't come to you in time. I'm all ready now. The tex' says I've a
_right_ to go in at the gates _now_, if I wanted to.'

He stopped talking, for up the lane came a carriage, and it stopped at
the gates.

Both the children sprang to their feet. They saw a woman in a white
apron hurry out from the lodge and open the gate; they saw the carriage
pass through and the gates close again. Then Bobby spoke very solemnly:

'Did you see who was in the carriage? A lady in a _white_ dress, and
she had a _right_ to pass frough.'

'You are a funny boy,' said True with a little laugh. 'She belonged to
the house, and she's just going home.'

'Well,' argued Bobby, 'I belong to the golden City, and I shall have a
right to go in--the tex' says so; and I shall be going home; because
you know, True, God is my other Father, and God lives at home in
heaven.'

There was silence, then True said:

'We had better go back to dad. I'll ask mother next Sunday about those
gates, and see if you've told me true. She always talks good to me on
Sunday afternoon.'

Bobby turned