Rosas Quest | Page 3

grandpa and Mis' Gray for a long time. Then I know, anyhow, she'd never go and leave me. Of course she wouldn't, for we're always together. She couldn't get along without me, 'cause I take care of her, and I know I couldn't get along without her at all. Mis' Gray ought to know that, for we've lived by her a long time. What do you 'spose she meant? I can't think about anything else."
"Why, my little girl," replied the stranger, while Rosa was more mystified than ever to see the blue eyes fill with tears, "sometimes when people are sick, they go to a better country than this. Do you know about heaven?"
"Not much, ma'am. When Mis' Gray goes away and mother's working, grandpa gets his old violin and sings to me about the beautiful land. He says that's heaven, but he can't explain it much to me. He says he can't think right since Tom got killed. You know Tom was his boy. Grandpa is so good. When mother moves, I know she will take me, and I wish he could go too. But, lady, do you 'spose that's the place where mother's going?"
"I hope so, dear, for she would not cough any more there."
"Oh, wouldn't she? I'll tell her about it, then. But how much is the fare? We're poor, you know."
"You do not have to pay any fare to go to that beautiful land, because Jesus paid it all long ago."
"Oh, how kind! He must be so good. Last night I wakened, and mother kissed me and said that Jesus surely would take care of me. Are you real sure He paid the fare for everybody?"
"Yes, I know it, for God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life."
"Ain't that pretty! But where do you start from to get there?"
"Your mother could go right from your home."
"But she just ain't able to go any place; she can't sit up much now. I'll tell her about it, though, then when she's better, we'll both go. Does it take long to get there?"
"No, not so very."
"I wish we'd known it before it got so cold. It might make her cough worse to go out now. Are there many people in this land?"
"Yes, a great many."
"Are there more going?"
"Yes, they are going all the time."
"Do people here in the city know about it?"
"Yes."
"Then why didn't somebody tell me before mother got so sick? I just can't bear to see her suffer so, and we might be there now. I'm afraid it will be a long time before she's well enough to start. Oh, if I'd only known! I'd think somebody should have told me.
"Do folks have enough to eat there? Sometimes since mother's not been able to work much, we get so awful hungry."
"They have everything they want, and never get hungry."
"Everything they want, and never get hungry?"
"Yes."
"And is it cold there?"
"No."
"Do they have to pay rent?"
"No, for Jesus has paid for everything."
"Oh, oh! won't it be nice? How glad mother will be when I tell her, for it has been so hard for us to get along this winter. The rent is due next Monday, and we have nothing to pay it with, but if mother is just well enough to go, it won't make no difference. But the very best part of all, she won't be coughing any more!
"Oh!" half screamed Rosa, "I forgot to get off, and have gone a whole block past Lake Avenue. What would Mis' Gray say to me?"
Without another word she was gone, for already the car was beginning to move on. Scarcely realizing what she did, she ran after it for a short distance. With a great pang, she remembered that the girl had not told her the way to the beautiful land, where mother might go and never cough any more.
Half stunned by bewilderment and disappointment, and with her heart heavier than before, she delivered her package, purchased the steak, and in due time was again at the sufferer's bedside.
[Illustration]

II.
ESTHER'S PERPLEXITY.
The day was gradually fading into darkness.
Esther Fairfax, with sadness upon her usually sunshiny face, was sitting before her cheery open fire, fruitlessly endeavoring to become interested in her newly-purchased book.
Her room was by no means elegantly furnished, but every article it contained, from the rugs upon the floor to the pictures upon the wall, reflected the refinement and culture of the fair young occupant.
Presently, closing her book and tossing it carelessly from her hand, she settled back upon her couch for good solid meditation, while tears gathered in her deep blue eyes, chasing each other in rapid succession down her flushed cheeks.
For some time she lived over the events of the afternoon, recalling minutely