Part 11 (1/2)

”Uncle Edward, have you heard who Goliath really did kill?”

”Do you mean the tree that came on you? No one else was hurt, I hope?”

and Sir Edward's tone was a little anxious.

”She was killed dead--quite dead and mangled, nurse said. It was the poor little kitten, uncle, that I ran out to fetch.”

The brown eyes were swimming with tears, and Milly could not understand the smile that came to Sir Edward's lips.

”Only a kitten. Well, it was sad, I daresay, but there are plenty of kittens about the place.”

”But, uncle, I've been thinking so much about this one. Ford says she had run away from the stable. I expect she was going to be a prodigal kitten, perhaps, and now she'll never run away any more. It's so sad about her, and I think why it is sad is because n.o.body cares, not even nurse. She said she would rather it had been the kitten than me. Poor little kitty, her mother will be missing her so to-night! Do you think, uncle, the wind or Goliath killed her? I think it was Goliath. I just looked out of my window on the stairs before I came down. The wind has stopped now, and the trees seemed to be crying and sobbing together. I'm sure they were sorry for kitty. I think they were tired out themselves, too, they have been so knocked about to-day. I wish so much I had been just in time to save the dear little kitten.”

”We will not talk about her any more,” said Sir Edward cheerfully. ”Have you seen Tom Maxwell lately?”

Milly's little tongue was only too ready to talk of him.

”He helped nurse and me to get some holly in the wood yesterday. I have nice talks with him often. He says he is very happy, and this will be the best Christmas he has spent in his life. Uncle, I want to ask you something. I've been thinking of it a great deal to-day, only since I was knocked down this afternoon I've had such a pain in my head I left off thinking. But I've just remembered it now. You see it is really Jesus Christ's birthday to-morrow, and I was thinking I've been getting presents for every one in the house but Him. Nurse has been helping me with some of them. I've made nurse a kettleholder, and cook a needlebook, and I've bought a penknife for Ford, and a thimble for Sarah, and some handkerchiefs for Maxwell and Mrs. Maxwell, and some woolen gloves for Tommy. And I've nothing--no nothing for Him. If I only knew something He would like.”

She paused, and a soft wistfulness came into her eyes.

”I was thinking,” she went on, ”that perhaps I could put my present for Him outside the nursery window on the ledge. And then when we are all in bed, and it is very quiet, I expect He might send an angel down to bring it up to Him. I think He might do that, because He knows how much I want to give Him something. But then I don't know what to give Him.

Could you tell me, uncle?”

”I think,” said Sir Edward, gravely, ”the only way you can give Him a Christmas present is to give something to the poor. He would rather have that. I will give you this to put in the plate to-morrow in church.”

And Sir Edward put his hand in his pocket, and rolled a coin across the table to his little niece.

But Milly was not satisfied.

”This is your present,” she said, doubtfully. ”What will you give Him this Christmas besides? Is money the only thing you can give Him, uncle?”

Sir Edward pushed back his chair and rose from the table. His feelings were almost getting beyond his control. With the one subject that was now always foremost in his thoughts, the child's question rang again in his ears, ”Is money the only thing you can give Him, uncle?” And like a flash of light came a reply:

”No, I can give myself back to Him, my soul and body, that have now been so long in the keeping of His enemy.”

After a few minutes' silence he said, in a strangely quiet voice:

”Come, little one, it is bedtime; say 'Good-night,' and run up to nurse!”

Milly came up to him, and as he stood with his back to the fire warming his hands, she took hold of the ends of his coat in her little hands, and, looking up at him, said:

”Uncle Edward, you gave me a kiss like a father might have done this afternoon. Would you mind very much giving me another?”

Sir Edward looked down at the sweet little face raised so coaxingly to his, and then took her up in his arms; but after he had given her the desired kiss he said, with some effort,--

”I want you to do something to-night, little one. When you say your prayers, ask that one of G.o.d's prodigal sons may be brought back this Christmas time. It is one who wants to return. Will you pray for him?”