Probable Sons | Page 7

who
picked up sticks on Sunday--he was stoned dead; and Elisha's servant
was made a leper, and some children were killed by a bear, and a
prophet by a lion, and Annas and Sophia were struck dead. All of them
were punished 'most severely,' weren't they? If you forgave me a little
bit, and left out the 'most severely,' it would make it easier, I expect."
"Perhaps I might do that," said poor Sir Edward, who by this time
longed to dispense with the punishment altogether; "as it was only a
flower-pot, I will leave out the 'most severely.'"
Milly's face brightened.
"I think," she said, coming up to him and laying one hand on his
knee--"I think if I were to go to bed instead of coming down to dessert
with you this evening, that would punish me; don't you think so?"
"Very well, that will do. Now run away, and let this be your last
breakage. I cannot be worried with your punishments."
"I will try to be very good, nurse, always," said Milly while being
tucked up in bed that night, "because Uncle Edward is very puzzled
when he has to punish me. He doesn't know what to do. He looked
quite unhappy and said it worried him."
And Sir Edward as he finished his dinner in silence and solitude
muttered to himself,--
"That child is certainly a great nuisance at times, but, upon my word, I
quite miss her this evening. Children after all are original, if they are

nothing else, and she is one of the most original that I have ever met."
It was Sunday morning, and Sir Edward was just starting for church. As
he stood over the blazing fire in the hall buttoning a glove, a little voice
came to him from the staircase:
"Uncle Edward, may I come down and speak to you?"
Permission being given, Milly danced down the stairs, and then,
slipping her little hand into her uncle's, she lifted a coaxing face to his.
"Will you take me to church with you? Nurse thinks I'm almost big
enough now, and I have been to church in the afternoon sometimes."
Sir Edward hesitated. "If you come, you will fidget, I expect. I cannot
stand that."
"I will sit as still as a mouse. I won't fidget."
"If you behave badly I shall never take you again. Yes, you may come.
Be quick and get ready."
A few moments after, Sir Edward and his little niece were walking
down the avenue, she clasping a large Bible under her arm, and trying
in vain to match her steps with his.
The squire's pew was one of the old-fashioned high ones, and Milly's
head did not reach the top of it. Very quiet and silent she was during
the service, and very particular to follow her uncle's example in every
respect, though she nearly upset his gravity at the outset by taking off
her hat in imitation of him and covering her face with it. But when the
sermon commenced her large dark eyes were riveted on the clergyman
as he gave out the text so well known to her:--
"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 more worthy to be
called thy son"; and though the sermon was half an hour in length, her
gaze never left the pulpit.

"Uncle Edward," she said, when their steps at length turned homewards,
"do you know, I heard all the sermon, and understood it pretty well
except the long words. Wasn't it nice to hear about the probable son?"
"'Prodigal,' you mean. Cannot you pronounce your words properly?"
Sir Edward's tone was irritable. He had not been feeling very
comfortable under the good vicar's words.
"I can't say that; I always forget it. Nurse says one long word is as good
as another sometimes. Uncle, what did the clergyman mean by people
running away from God? No one does, do they?"
"A great many do," was the dry response.
"But how can they? Because God is everywhere. No one can't get away
from God, and why do they want to? Because God loves them so."
"Why did the prodigal want to get away?"
Milly considered.
"I s'pose he wanted to have some a--aventures, don't you call them? I
play at that, you know. All sorts of things happen to me before I sit
down at the beech tree, but--but it's so different with God. Why, I
should be fearful unhappy if I got away from Him. I couldn't, could I,
uncle? Who would take care of me and love me when I'm asleep? And
who would listen to my prayers? Why, Uncle Edward, I think I should
die