"I think of it every day."
"I was afraid you thought of it a good deal."
"Don't say, afraid; it is a comfort to me; it speaks to me in so
many ways. The innocent thing that never lived on earth, is like
an angel to me, William."
"You are like an angel to father and me," said Mr. William, softly.
"I know that."
"When I think of all those hopes I built upon it, and the many
times I sat and pictured to myself the little smiling face upon my
bosom that never lay there, and the sweet eyes turned up to mine
that never opened to the light," said Milly, "I can feel a greater
tenderness, I think, for all the disappointed hopes in which there
is no harm. When I see a beautiful child in its fond mother's
arms, I love it all the better, thinking that my child might have
been like that, and might have made my heart as proud and happy."
Redlaw raised his head, and looked towards her.
"All through life, it seems by me," she continued, "to tell me
something. For poor neglected children, my little child pleads as
if it were alive, and had a voice I knew, with which to speak to
me. When I hear of youth in suffering or shame, I think that my
child might have come to that, perhaps, and that God took it from
me in His mercy. Even in age and grey hair, such as father's, it
is present: saying that it too might have lived to be old, long
and long after you and I were gone, and to have needed the respect
and love of younger people."
Her quiet voice was quieter than ever, as she took her husband's
arm, and laid her head against it.
"Children love me so, that sometimes I half fancy--it's a silly
fancy, William--they have some way I don't know of, of feeling for
my little child, and me, and understanding why their love is
precious to me. If I have been quiet since, I have been more
happy, William, in a hundred ways. Not least happy, dear, in this-
-that even when my little child was born and dead but a few days,
and I was weak and sorrowful, and could not help grieving a little,
the thought arose, that if I tried to lead a good life, I should
meet in Heaven a bright creature, who would call me, Mother!"
Redlaw fell upon his knees, with a loud cry.
"O Thou, he said, "who through the teaching of pure love, hast
graciously restored me to the memory which was the memory of Christ
upon the Cross, and of all the good who perished in His cause,
receive my thanks, and bless her!"
Then, he folded her to his heart; and Milly, sobbing more than
ever, cried, as she laughed, "He is come back to himself! He likes
me very much indeed, too! Oh, dear, dear, dear me, here's
another!"
Then, the student entered, leading by the hand a lovely girl, who
was afraid to come. And Redlaw so changed towards him, seeing in
him and his youthful choice, the softened shadow of that chastening
passage in his own life, to which, as to a shady tree, the dove so
long imprisoned in his solitary ark might fly for rest and company,
fell upon his neck, entreating them to be his children.
Then, as Christmas is a time in which, of all times in the year,
the memory of every remediable sorrow, wrong, and trouble in the
world around us, should be active with us, not less than our own
experiences, for all good, he laid his hand upon the boy, and,
silently calling Him to witness who laid His hand on children in
old time, rebuking, in the majesty of His prophetic knowledge,
those who kept them from Him, vowed to protect him, teach him, and
reclaim him.
