Odd Part 4

'_Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not._'

Betty drew a deep breath; her thoughts were busy. She wished herself that little girl lying so calm and beautiful, with the red and golden rays slanting across her; and then looking up at the window, she wished still more that she was one of those happy children in the Lord's arms.

Looking up with tearful eyes, she clasped her hands, and let her b.u.t.tercups and bluebells fall to the ground unheeded.

'O G.o.d, I will be good! I will be good!'

Those were all the words uttered, but He who heard them looked down into the overflowing heart, and knew all that lay behind them.

Long the child stood there, and then with flagging footsteps made her way down the aisle.

'I'm very tired,' she murmured to herself; 'I'll just sit down inside that pew.'

And a moment after, curling herself up on the cushions, Betty went fast asleep.

She was dreaming soon of a wonderful white-robed throng; she saw the little girl walk up with her white, still face to a golden throne, she tried to follow, but could not manage to walk, and then the most wonderful music began to sound; louder and clearer it came, until with a start she opened her eyes and discovered where she was. Was it all a dream? The music was still sounding in her ears, and sitting up she peered over the edge of the high pew. There, seated at the organ, was a lady, and she was pouring forth such a flood of melody and song that it did indeed seem to the half-wakened child music straight from heaven.

Betty listened breathlessly to the words--words that she knew now so well, and that were ever in her thoughts: 'These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.'

It was a beautiful anthem, and a beautiful voice that was singing.

Betty had never heard such singing before. She gazed with open mouth and eyes; the lady was rather a young one, she noticed, and when her voice rose in triumph and the organ pealed out in accompaniment, Betty saw that her uplifted eyes, shining as they were with such a glad light behind them, were full of tears.

'It's an angel,' she whispered to herself. And when at last the notes died away, and there was stillness in the church, when she saw the lady's face bowed in her hands, as if in prayer, Betty stole softly out of the building, and retraced her steps along the road, sobbing as she went. It had been too much for her excitable little brain; she always had been pa.s.sionately fond of music, but was more accustomed to the street organs in London than to any other sort, and this was as great a contrast to those as heaven is to earth.

It was a long way back, but Betty did not feel it. Had G.o.d sent an angel to sing to her? Was there a chance of her ever being amongst that white-robed throng? If she could only go through tribulation!

Had the little girl lying so white and still gone through it? These and other similar puzzling thoughts came crowding through her brain.

She was very quiet when she reached the farm. They were just sitting down to tea when she came in, and Mrs. Giles looked relieved when she saw her.

'We was wonderin' where you had got to,' she said. 'Ain't you tired?

You look quite beat.'

'I've had a lovely afternoon,' was the child's answer, and the blue eyes shone up at her questioner; but not a word more could be got from her, though the little boys did their best to extract more information.

The next day was a wet one, but the little Stuarts were never at a loss for occupation, and when they were packed off into a large empty garret for the whole afternoon their delight was unbounded.

At last, tired out, their spirits began to flag, and after having exhausted all their stock of games they flung themselves down on the ground to rest.

'I'll tell you a story,' said Betty suddenly.

'All right, go on!'

Betty sat up in a corner, and rested her back against the wall. She clasped her small hands in front of her, and gazing dreamily up at an old beam across the room, on which hung many a cobweb, she began,--

'It was a beautiful day in heaven----'

'It's always a beautiful day there,' put in Douglas critically.

'I never said it wasn't. You're not to interrupt me. It was a beautiful day, the harps were playing and the angels singing, and one angel looked as if she wanted something. So G.o.d asked her what was the matter.

'"Oh, please," she said, "I want to go down to earth to-day."

'"What do you want to do there, O angel?"

'"I want to play and sing to some children there."

'Then G.o.d said she might go. So she flew down and changed her clothes----'

'What kind of clothes did she put on?' asked Molly eagerly.

Betty considered a moment 'She put on a straw hat and a grey dress; she took off her wings and folded them up.'

'Where did she put them?' demanded Douglas.

'Down a well,' was the prompt reply. 'It was a dry well, and she put her white dress and crown with it; she did them up in a paper parcel, and wrote her name on.'

'What was her name?' asked Bobby.

Betty knitted her brows. 'It was a Bible name, of course; I think it was Miriam. She felt the earth was very hot, for the sun was shining like anything, and then she wondered who she could sing to. Well, she walked along a road, and then she saw a church, so she thought that must be a good place, and she went inside. The church was dark, and cool, and still, but it was lovely; and there were red and blue and yellow and green and violet sunbeams, and beautiful painted windows, and white marble figures all about, and it was so still that you felt you must hush and walk on tiptoe. And then, what do you think she saw?'

All eyes were on Betty now, as she sank her voice to an impressive whisper.

'She saw a little girl fast asleep!'

'Go on,' said Douglas impatiently, as Betty made another pause.

'So the angel thought she would sing to her; so she went up very softly to the big organ, and began to play it, and then she began to sing. It was lovely. She sang like she did in heaven, and the little girl woke up and listened.'

'What did she sing about?' asked Molly.

'She sang about heaven, and all the people and children who had come through great tribulation. And the music went on right up to the top of the church, and her voice got louder and louder, and then softer and softer to a whisper, and then the music got softer too, and then--it was quite still.'

'Well, go on. What did the little girl do?'

'The little girl came away; she--she cried a little.'

'Why, you're crying too! What a silly!'

Betty dashed her small hand across her eyes, and threw up her head defiantly. 'That's all my story,' she said.

'Oh, what a stupid story! You must make a proper ending.'

'You shall go on! we'll make you!'

'Did the angel get her proper clothes again?'

'Yes,' said Betty, with a little sigh; 'she put them on and went up to heaven. And G.o.d asked her what she'd done. And she told Him she thought the little girl would like to come to heaven, if He would let her.'