Nesta Fairfax came down to see her little favourite, and Betty shed many tears on her knee.

'It's no good; I shall never, never be happy again! No one cares for me like Prince; and now he's dead I've no friend left!'

'You have a good many friends, Betty. Listen, darling; when I'm married I'm going to live in London, and you shall come and stay with me sometimes, if your mother will allow it.'

'When are you going to be married?'

'Soon; but we shall have a very quiet wedding, or I would have you as a little bridesmaid.'

Betty shook her curly head mournfully. 'It's no good, my heart is broken; and I don't want to stay with anybody or do anything.'

She had the same answer to any one who tried to comfort her. And then one afternoon Mr. Russell appeared on the scene. When he heard from nurse how matters lay, he proposed that Betty should come and stay with him for a week. 'It is change of scene and atmosphere that she wants.

Let me take her back with me at once; my housekeeper will take good care of her.' And this was managed, and Betty walked away with him quietly and contentedly.

She was certainly happier roaming through his big house than she had been at the farm; but there seemed to be some extra weight on her mind that she would not reveal, and it was not until the first Sunday after her arrival there that he discovered the cause.

They had been to church together, had waited until the congregation had dispersed, and stood by Violet's monument. Betty had placed some fresh roses on it, and as they were leaving the church she said, looking back wistfully,--

'I wish Prince had been buried in church; no one cares about his grave!

I put flowers on it, but the chickens run through the orchard and scratch them off; and one day the horrid black pig was grunting with his nose, and making a great hole in it! I wish he could have a tombstone; no one cares a bit, and they almost laugh if I say anything about it.'

'Is that what is troubling you?' asked Mr. Russell kindly.

'That's one of the things, but not the big thing.'

'And what is the big thing?'

Betty was silent; then she said, 'I'll tell it to you--p'raps this afternoon.'

They went back to luncheon, and then Mr. Russell took his seat in the shady verandah that ran round the house. It was a still, warm afternoon. Betty got a stool, and sitting down on it rested her head against the knee of her friend. Outside the bees were humming round the roses and amongst the bright flower-beds on the lawn; the birds were twittering in the old beeches close by; but over the whole scene hung a Sabbath peace and repose.

The child looked away to the soft distant hills and the deep blue sky.

'Shall I tell you what I promised?' she asked at last, bringing her sad little eyes to Mr. Russell's face.

Mr. Russell nodded, and clutching rather nervously at his hand, Betty said a little hurriedly, 'Prince has always been so good, and I've talked so much to him of heaven, and he seemed to like it, and I--well, I tried to teach him his prayers, and I've prayed to G.o.d for him every night, that I thought he would be sure to go to heaven, don't you think so? But I was reading Revelation, and I was thinking how perhaps he might be able to sing in heaven, perhaps G.o.d would give him a proper voice--for Mrs. Giles told me she had a little deaf and dumb brother once who died, and she said he would be given a voice when he got there; and then I read in the last chapter--oh, I can't tell you!'

Down dropped the little head, and a burst of tears came.

Mr. Russell did not speak; he got up and went inside the house to get a Bible. Coming back, he spread it open on his knee and scanned the chapter through.

'Well,' he said at length, 'I don't see your trouble, Betty.'

'It says,' sobbed the child, 'that dogs will be outside heaven with all the wicked persons and all the liars! Prince was never wicked, and never, never told a lie. I can't make it out, it's so dreadful!'

Mr. Russell almost smiled, but his tone was as grave as usual when he put his arm round Betty, saying, 'But, my dear child, that is not the meaning of the verse. How can I explain it to you? Let me try: the term dog was used by the Jews to express anything unclean, despicable; the Palestine dogs were wild, savage animals, despised and scouted by every one; and so people who led wicked lives, without any right feeling or principle, are compared to dogs.'

'Then it doesn't mean Prince? He may be in heaven after all? Oh, I wish I had asked some one about it, but I was afraid! Miss Fairfax said once he had no soul; but then I've asked G.o.d to give him one, and G.o.d can do anything, can't He? Do you think he is in heaven? Oh, Mr.

Russell, he must be somewhere!'

The piteous tone went right to Mr. Russell's heart. He leant forward and lifted Betty on his knee.

'Betty, do you love G.o.d?'

'Yes.'

'Very much?'

'I think I do, and I feel He loves me.'

'I think you do too, for you have often talked to me about Him, and you have taught me to love Him too, Betty. Now you must trust G.o.d about Prince. I can't give you a text in the Bible to tell you Prince is in heaven, but G.o.d knows all about your little sorrowful heart. You tell him all about it, and be at rest. There are times when we go through life that we must do this, yes, grown-up men and women, Betty, when they cannot see, and struggle to understand and penetrate the unseen, are brought down under G.o.d's hand. And He says to us, "I have done this: now is the time to trust Me." "Be still, and know that I am G.o.d." I have had to learn this lesson, and at times my heart has been hard and bitter. But there, why am I talking like this to you? You will not understand.'

'I like it,' said Betty, lying back in his arms, and looking out into the sunny garden. 'And I may think what I like about Prince now, mayn't I? I'm quite, quite sure G.o.d loves him. G.o.d loves everybody, even the wickedest sinners, and Prince wasn't a wicked dog at all.'

There was silence, which Betty broke at last.

'I like being here with you, because you talk to me so differently, and I feel so dreadfully alone at the farm. Nurse said you were a single gentleman, and your servants couldn't have much to do. I must be a single child, I feel! And they all say such stupid things to comfort me. Nurse said he would have had to die some time, and perhaps if I had taken him back to London he would have got run over, and Douglas said I must pretend I never had a dog called Prince; and Molly told me that Douglas will soon be going to school, and then she and I will be a couple; and Mrs. Giles said if Prince hadn't died he would have gone raving mad and bitten all of us, and made us raving mad too, and we would have all been shot, and we must be thankful; and Reuben, the old grave man, asked me if I didn't thank G.o.d that the mad dog didn't bite me; and old Jenny said perhaps I was making an idol of Prince, and so he was taken away. How could I make an idol of him? I wouldn't say my prayers to him instead of G.o.d! You wouldn't be comforted to have those things said to you, would you?'

'No, I don't think I should,' said Mr. Russell, smiling.

'Mrs. Fairfax wanted to give me another dog, a little puppy; but I couldn't, I couldn't have another dog when Prince is dead! You couldn't have another Violet, could you? I think you and I understand, because we've now both had some one dead belonging to us.'

Betty's week lengthened into three. Mr. Russell seemed loth to part with her, and her subdued spirits and pathetic grief touched him greatly. But the visit came to an end at last, and about four o'clock one bright afternoon the dog-cart was driven round to take her home, 'You shall come and see me again, Betty,' said Mr. Russell brightly, 'and I shall come and see you when I am in London. I used to be at Eton with your father, and shall like to renew his acquaintance. And next spring you ask your mother to take you to the Royal Academy, where all the pictures are. I think you will see a white statue of a little girl asleep on a log of wood, and a----' He stopped.

'And Prince,' put in Betty sadly. 'I shan't bear to look at him; and yet I should like to. I don't mind going back to London; I thought I could never be so happy anywhere as in the country, but I've been miserabler than I ever was in London. I shall be miserable now for ever and ever!'

'Betty,' said Mr. Russell suddenly, as they were driving through the sweet-scented lanes towards the farm-house, 'do you remember the text you said to me when I first saw you in the church, and you were putting forget-me-nots on my darling's tomb?'

'I expect it was my tribulation text,' said Betty musingly.

'Yes, it was. You told me you were unhappy because you had not been through tribulation, and a short time ago you told me that you were asking G.o.d to send you tribulation, and that you were hoping to get it soon.'

'And you told me the same as everybody else--that I didn't know what I was wishing for. But I did, and I expect G.o.d will answer it; for old Jenny said I should come through it, and perhaps I wouldn't have to wait till I grew up.'

'I think,' said Mr. Russell slowly, as he looked down at the wistful little face, 'that G.o.d has been answering your prayer already.'

Betty looked up breathlessly. 'How?'

'I think He has sent you a little bit of tribulation to see if you can bear it, and if you will be a good, patient child over it, and not keep saying you will never be happy again.'

Such a flash of light came across Betty's face, and into her big blue eyes.

'Do you really think G.o.d has taken away Prince to give me tribulation?

Oh! Mr. Russell, is it true, could it be? Is this coming through tribulation?'

Her whole face was quivering with intense feeling.

'I think it is as big a trouble as a little child like you can be called upon to bear,' said Mr. Russell, drawing her close to him; 'and I think G.o.d has sent it to you for some good purpose.'