world, that whosoever believeth in Him should notperish, but have everlasting life.
And because little Mrs Jenks loved God and Christ with all the strengthof her nature in return, she told the story of the birth of Jesus, ofHis life, of His death, so tenderly and so solemnly, that the childwept, and only the knowledge that His sufferings were now over, that Hewas happy now, and that He loved her, could stay her tears. What couldshe give Him in return? Why, all He asked for, all He needed.
Lying there on Mrs Jenks' little white bed which God had lent her, sheoffered up to the Father, to the Son, and to the Spirit, the love andobedience of her whole heart and life for time and for eternity.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
THE BEST ROBE.
It took Flo a long time to get well, but when the autumn came, and thefierce summer heat had passed away, she began to pick up strength, toleave her little white bed, to hobble on her lame foot across the floor,to sit on the crimson hearth-rug and fondle Scamp; and after ponderingon the fact for many days, and communicating her feelings on the subjectto the dog in Mrs Jenks' absence, she felt that, painful as it would beto them both, they must now once more go out into the world. They mustsay good-bye to this bright little room and its much-loved inmate, andface once more the old days of poverty and privation.
Not that they ever would be quite the old days back again.
However cold she now was, however hungry she now was, she had a hopewhich would charm away the hunger and cold, she had a strong Friend whoin her hour of extreme need would come again, as He had come once, toher succour.
But must they both go out into the world again?
This question perplexed her very often. That Scamp should love quarterswhere beef and mutton bones were at least _sometimes_ tasted, where hisbed was warm, and his life easy, was not to be wondered at. Under hispresent gentle treatment he was growing into quite a handsome dog, a dogthat really did credit to his friends. His ribs no longer stuck out intheir former ungainly manner, his coat was thick and good, his eyesbright. Of course he liked the comfortable feelings which accompaniedthese outward signs of prosperity: still he was not the dog to deserthis mistress in her need; and cheerfully, and without a murmur, would hehave followed her through hunger and privation, to the world's end.
But the question was not, would he go, but should she take him? Hadshe, who could do so little for him, any right to take him?
Perhaps when she had him back in her cellar, that dreadful Maxey wouldagain find him, and carry him away to fight with his bull-dogs, and hislife would be sacrificed to her selfishness.
The desolate side of the picture, which represented herself in thecellar without Scamp, she resolutely turned away from, and determinedthat if Mrs Jenks would be willing to keep her dog, she should havehim. And Mrs Jenks loved him, and had already paid the dog-tax forhim, so it was very unlikely that she would refuse his society.
Flo thought about this for several nights while lying, awake in bed, andfor several days when Mrs Jenks was out, and at last one evening shespoke.
"Mrs Jenks, ma'am, is you fond of Scamp?"
Mrs Jenks had just returned after a day's charing, and now, havingwashed up, and put away the tea-things, and made herself clean andcomfortable, she was seated in her little arm-chair, a tiny roll ofcoloured calico in her lap, and a mysteriously small thimble in herhand. At Flo's question she patted the dog's head, and answeredgently--
"Yes, dear, I loves all dumb creatures."
"Then, Mrs Jenks, may be yer'd like fur to keep Scamp?"
"Why, my child, of course you are both on a little visit with me for thepresent. See, Flo, I am going to teach you needlework--it is what allwomen should be adepts in, dear."
At another time Flo could not have resisted this appeal, but she was toointensely in earnest now to be put off her subject.
"I means, ma'am," she said, rising to her feet and speaking steadily, "Imeans, ma'am, wen my little wisit is hover, and you 'as back yer bed,ma'am, as God gave me the loan of--I means then, ma'am, seeing as youloves my dawg, and you'll be kind to 'im, and hall 'ee wants is no bed,but to lie on the rug, why, that you might keep my dawg."
Flo's voice shook so while renouncing Scamp, that the animal himselfheard her, and got up and thrust his great awkward head between herhands. She had hard work to restrain her tears, but did so, and kepther eyes steadily fixed on Mrs Jenks. That little woman sat silent forfully a moment, now returning Flo's gaze, now softly stroking Scamp'sback--at last she spoke.
"No, Flo," she said, "I won't part you and Scamp--you love each other,and I think God means you to stay together. He has made you meet, andlet you pass through a pretty sharp little bit of life in company, and Ihave no idea but that He sent you His dumb creature to be a comfort toyou, and if that is so, I won't take him away. As long as you stay heshall stay, but when you go back to your cellar he shall go too."
Scamp, whose eyes expressed that he knew all about it, and fullybelieved that Mrs Jenks understood his character, looked satisfied, andlicked her hand, but Flo had still an anxious frown on her face. "Efyou please, ma'am," she said, "'tis better fur me to know how muchlonger am I to have the loan of your bed, ma'am?"
"Why, Flo, my dear, Mrs Potter, who lent me the mattress I sleeps on,sent me down word that she must have it to-morrow morning for her niece,who is coming to live with her, so I'll want my bed, Flo, and 'tis toolittle for both of us." Mrs Jenks paused, but Flo was quite silent.
"Well, dear," she said cheerfully, "we'll all three lie warm and snugto-night, and we needn't meet to-morrow's troubles half way. Now comeover, child, and I'll give you instruction in needlework, 'tis an hartas all women should cultivate."
Flo, still silent and speechless, went over and received the needle intoher clumsy little fingers, and after a great many efforts, succeeded inthreading it, and then she watched Mrs Jenks work, and went through twoor three spasmodic stitches herself, and to all appearance looked agrave, diligent little girl, very much interested in her occupation.And Mrs Jenks chatted to her, and told her what a good trade needleworkwas, and for all it met so much abuse, and was thought so poor in amoney-making way, yet still good, plain workers, not machinists, couldalways command their price, and what a tidy penny she had made byneedlework in her day.
And to all this Flo replied in monosyllables, her head hanging, her eyesfixed on her work.
At last Mrs Jenks gave her a needle freshly threaded, and a strip ofcalico, and bade her seat herself on the hearth-rug and draw her needlein and out of the calico to accustom her to its use, and she herselftook up a boy's jacket, and went on unpicking and opening the seams, andletting it out about an inch in all directions.
Night after night she was engaged over this work, and it alwaysinterested Flo immensely: for Mrs Jenks took such pains with it, sheunpicked the seams and smoothed them out with such clever fingers, thenshe stitched them up again with such fine, beautiful stitching, and whenthat was done, she invariably ironed them over with a nice little iron,which she used for no other purpose, so that no trace of the oldstitching could be seen. She had a very short time each day to devoteto this work, seldom more than ten minutes, but she did it as though shedelighted in it, as though it did her heart and soul good to touch thatcloth, to draw those careful, beautiful stitches in and out of it. Andevery night, while so engaged, she told Flo the story of the ProdigalSon.
She began it this night as usual, without the little girl looking up orasking for it.
"Once there was a man who had two sons--they were all the children hehad, and he held them very dear. One--the eldest--was a steady lad,willing to abide by his father, and be guided by him, but the other wasa wild, poor fellow, and he thought the home very small and narrow, andthe world a big place, and he thought he'd like a bit of fun, and to seeforeign parts.
"So he asked his father for all the money he could spare, and his fathergave him half his living. And then the poor foolish boy set off,turning his back on all the comforts of home, and th
inking now he'd seelife in earnest; and when he got to the far-off lands, wild companions,thieves, and such, came round him, and between them the good bit ofmoney his father had given him melted away, and he had not a penny tocall his own. Then he began to be hungry, to want sore, and no man gaveto him, and no man pitied him; and then, sitting there in the farcountry, came back to the poor, desolate, foolish lad the thoughts ofhome, and the nice little house, and the father's love, and he thoughtif he was there again, why, he'd never be dying of hunger, for in thefather's house even the servants had enough and to spare.
"And he thought, why should he not go back again? and he said tohimself, `I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him,Father, I have sinned against Heaven and before thee, and am no moreworthy to be thy