Part 33 (2/2)
”Not this one,” answered Cherry.
”I 'fought we did--sing it again, Cherry. Do you fink He'll wash _me_ whiter than snow?”
”Of course He will, d.i.c.kie, if you come to Him.”
”What do it mean, Cherry, 'whiter than snow'?”
”I think it means being washed in the Blood of Jesus.”
”But how, whiter than the snow?”
”Don't you remember, d.i.c.kie, when there was snow, afore mother-Meg took us away from old Sairy,--don't you remember how there weren't a spot on it when we got up one morning?”
”Yes--I 'member,” said d.i.c.kie. ”Shall we be like that?”
”I 'spose so. Them as is washed, He can't see no spot on us, more than we can on the snow.”
”Mother-Meg says as there ain't no sin in _Heaven_,” murmured d.i.c.kie.
”Let's go to sleep now, Cherry.”
So Meg and Jem came in at that, and Jem carried him down-stairs at once to his own little bed, too sleepy to say more than a very soft ”It is nice!” as he laid his head on his pillow.
After that Cherry prepared the supper which she was allowed to stay up for, as it was Sunday night--a great treat, but Meg liked nice things to happen on Sundays.
”That child sings like the angels,” said Miss Hobson, when Mrs. Seymour came in from her service. ”She's been up here this hour, and I feel as if I'd been nigh the gate of heaven.”
”How's she learnt them?” asked Mrs. Seymour.
”Before her mother died. She's got a book full of 'em. She says when she was alone up in that attic she used to sing 'em to d.i.c.kie pretty near all day; and what's more, I've heard it often through the window, but o' course I didn't know as it was her.”
”We didn't guess as we should ever come to know and love any one livin'
in _that_ house, did we, Miss Hobson? It shows us how some nice things can come out of bad things!”
Miss Hobson shook her head a.s.sentingly, but her mind was running on something else.
”Who do ye think has been up here a listenin' to her too?”
”I don't know, I'm sure,” answered Mrs. Seymour, looking round quickly, for she disliked visitors in her little home, more especially on Sundays. Miss Hobson knew this, but she went on calmly:
”We was sittin' here, as you left us, me in my bed, and Cherry by your fire, when there comes a little rap at the door, and Kittie Blunt comes in.
”'Oh, Kittie,' says Cherry, half-startled, 'do you want Mrs. Seymour?'
”'No, I don't, I want you--may I come in and speak to yer?'
”'I suppose so,' says Cherry, as if she didn't rightly know. I think she'd forgotten as I was close by, and she could ha' asked me.”
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