Part 28 (1/2)

”No,” said Cherry, ”I never saw her in it afore, but I couldn't think it 'ud look so much better.”

Meg smiled at their love and praise, and then Cherry made the tea.

Meanwhile Jem went to the corner and uncovered something which stood there, bringing it forward to d.i.c.kie, and telling him to look at what it was.

d.i.c.kie leaned forward, opened his eyes, gave a cry of pain, and then looked pitifully up in Meg's face.

”I can't see, mo'ver-Meg; where is it? It's all dark 'ere. Do light the lamp for me.”

But no lamp could be of any avail, as Meg saw when he felt about with his tiny hands in the broad daylight to find his way to the secret.

”Here, darling,” said Meg, struggling with her tears, and commanding her voice by a great effort, ”here is the secret; put your little hands and feel it.”

d.i.c.kie, believing that the lamp had not yet been lighted, and not guessing or being capable of understanding the calamity which had fallen upon him, let her guide his hands to the arms of a little chair, high enough to reach the table.

”For me?” asked d.i.c.kie; ”a chair for my werry own?”

”Yes,” answered Jem, taking him from Meg and placing him in it. ”See, d.i.c.kie, you can play by the table or sit by the fire. I have made it for your very own.”

”Kind fa'ver-Jem,” said d.i.c.kie, contentedly. ”Now Cherry, light the lamp, so as I can see it.”

Meg looked at Jem as if seeking strength from his pitying eyes; then she bent and laid her cheek against d.i.c.kie's head as she said tenderly--

”It's because your eyes have been so bad, dear.”

”Will they get better?” he asked.

”I am not sure, dear.”

”I want to see my booful chair, and mo'ver-Meg!”

Jem took the child out of the chair and wrapped his arms round him, pacing up and down the room with him on his breast.

”Kind fa'ver-Jem,” said d.i.c.kie, settling himself in those strong arms.

They went up and down for some minutes, while Meg and Cherry wept, and wiped away their tears in turn.

By-and-by they heard d.i.c.kie ask in a whisper--

”Shall I ever get better, and be able to see my mo'ver-Meg?” And Jem answered, in that low husky voice which betokened strong emotion--

”I can't say as you will for certain, d.i.c.kie, not here; but there's one thing as I do know on. In heaven we are promised, all of us who love Him, to see His face; and that'll be better than even mother-Meg's.”

d.i.c.kie listened silently.

”That 'a be _nice_,” he said at last with a little sob.

”Yes, d.i.c.kie,” Jem went on, still walking to and fro with soft even tread, ”there is no sorrow nor sufferin' there, no cryin', nor pains, nor achin'; but He says they shall see His face, and His name shall be in their foreheads. Don't ye think, d.i.c.kie, as, if His holy name is in our foreheads, He'll take care of them as bears it?”