What She Could Part 12

"Are you sorry you made the promise?" Mr. Richmond inquired, looking at her. But the look was so pleasant, that Matilda's could not keep its solemnity. She had come in with a good deal.

"I don't know but I _was_ sorry," she said.

"And you are not sorry now?"

"I think not."

"That is all the better. Now what did you want to say to me, Matilda?"

"You know you made me say I would come, Mr. Richmond."

"Did I? I think not. I do not think I _made_ you say anything--do you think I did?"

"Well, you _asked_ me, Mr. Richmond."

"Just what did I ask you?"

"You asked me, if I would come and tell you--you said you _wished_ I would come and tell you--if----"

And Matilda made a great pause. The eyes of her friend seemed only to be watching the apple, yet perhaps they knew that her little lips were unsteady and were trying to get steady. He left his seat to attend to the roast; got a plate and put on the hearth under it; arranged the fire; then came and with his own hands removed Matilda's hood and loosened and threw back her cloak; and while he did this he repeated his question, in tones that were encouragement itself.

"I wished you would come and tell me if--if what?"

"Yes, Mr. Richmond--if I thought I could not do something that I thought--I ought."

"Yes, I believe that was it, Tilly. Now, to begin with one thing at a time, what do you think you 'ought' to do?"

"Last night, I mean, Mr. Richmond; I mean, the night before last, at the meeting."

"I know. Well, what did you think then you ought to do?"

"Mr. Richmond, I think, I thought that I ought to rise up when Maria and the others did."

"I knew you thought so. Why did you not, then, Matilda?"

"I couldn't."

"Do you know why you could not?"

Again there was difficulty of speech on the child's part. Mr.

Richmond's saying that "he knew" she had had such feelings, was an endors.e.m.e.nt to her conscience; and Matilda could not immediately get over a certain swelling in her throat, which threatened to put a stop to the conversation. The minister waited, and she struggled.

"Why could _you_ not do what the others did, Matilda?"

"Mr. Richmond--I didn't want to do the things."

"What things? Bringing new scholars to the Sunday-School, for instance?"

"Oh no, sir, I wouldn't mind doing _that_, or some other things either.

But----"

"You mean, you do not want to pledge yourself to be a servant of the Lord Jesus Christ?"

"No, sir," after a pause, and low.

"Well, Tilly," said the minister, "I can only be very sorry for you.

You keep yourself out of a great joy."

"But, Mr. Richmond," said Matilda, down whose cheeks quiet tears were now running, one after another; "don't you think I am very young yet to be a member of the Church?"

"Do you think Jesus died for you, Tilly?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you believe He loves you now?"

"Yes, sir."

"You understand all about that. Does _He_ want you to be His obedient child and dear servant?"

"Yes, Mr. Richmond."

"You know all about that, too. Can you think of any reason why you should for another year refuse to love Him, refuse to mind Him, and do all that your example and influence can do to keep others from loving and minding Him? When He so loves and has loved you?"

Tilly's little hands went up to her face now, and the room was very still; only the flames softly flickering in the fireplace, and the apple sputtering before the fire. Mr. Richmond did not say a word for several minutes.

"Mr. Richmond," said Matilda at last, "do you think anybody cares what I do?--when I am so little?"

"I think the Lord Jesus cares. He said n.o.body was to hinder the little children from coming to Him. And I would rather be in His arms and have Him bless me, if I were you, than be anywhere else, or have anything else. And so would you, Tilly."

"But, Mr. Richmond--it is because I am not good."

"Yes, I know it. But that is a reason for giving yourself to the Lord Jesus. He will make you good; and there is no other way."

But Tilly's trouble at this got beyond management. She left her seat and came to Mr. Richmond, letting his arm draw her up to him, and dropping her head on his shoulder.

"O Mr. Richmond," she said, "I don't know how!"

"Don't know how to give yourself to Jesus? Do it in your heart, Tilly.

He is there. Tell Him He may have you for His own child. He is at the door of your heart knocking; open the door and bid Him come in. He will make it a glad place if you do."

"Mr. Richmond," said the child, with great difficulty between her sobs--"won't you tell Him that I will?"

They kneeled down and the minister made a short prayer. But then he said--

"Now, Tilly, I want you to tell the Lord yourself."

"I can't, Mr. Richmond."