Rosas Quest | Page 4

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 the details of the unusual conversation with the untaught but
interesting child.
"Oh," she thought, "I shall never forget those words, 'How much is the
fare? We're poor you know.' If only I knew where she lives, that I
might go and see her and minister to the comforts of the dying mother!
The hungry wistfulness of those eyes seems burned into my very soul.
"Father, I am so glad you have come," she said, hastily rising upon
hearing the familiar footstep in the hall. "I have been waiting a long
time for your return."
"Why, my child, you have been crying. What is it? Are you ill, or have
you received an unwelcome message?"
"No, neither, father, but I am so troubled about a little girl I saw in the
car this afternoon, and who disappeared almost magically."
"Come into my study and tell me all about it, Esther."
Although Dr. Fairfax was the pastor of one of the largest churches in
the city, he always had time for his beloved and motherless daughter.

"When I was coming from down town this afternoon," she began, "a
very small girl with a very large package in her arms stepped aboard
the car. Her face was so sweet and innocent that one would notice it
even in a crowd, but overshadowed by an expression of care far too
heavy for her baby years. Her eyes were large, dark and unusually
lustrous, while her wavy brown hair fell about her face and neck in rich
profusion. Her clothing was scant and old, but clean and very neatly
mended. The whole appearance of the child was so pathetically
irresistible that I went and sat down by her side, taking her cold little
hand within my own.
"She talked freely, telling me that her name is Rosa Browning. As I
now recall the conversation, I find that I know but little indeed of her
actual circumstances, and nothing at all of the location of her home.
"She spoke most tenderly now and then of 'grandpa', and occasionally
mentioned 'Mis' Gray', who, I imagine, is not specially noted for her
amiability. But oh, father, when she would refer to her mother, it
seemed that her heart was almost crushed with anxiety, and that her
burden was greater than she could bear!"
With tears still flowing, Esther then told of Rosa's bewilderment
concerning her mother's rumored moving, and of her own efforts to
explain what this moving probably meant.
The strong man, accustomed as he was to the tales of woe and misery
among the poor and outcast, bowed his head and wept also. The pathos
of the child's simple, direct questions impressed him quite as much as it
had Esther.
"'But how much is the fare? How much is the fare?'" he repeated over
and over.
"Truly you answered well, daughter. We have no fare to pay, no, none,
for Jesus paid it all! But what a price--the life of the Son of the Most
High God, who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be
equal with God: but made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him
the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men: and being

found in fashion as a man, He humbled Himself, and became obedient
unto death, even the death of the cross!"
For some minutes they remained in silence, lost in the thought of the
price of redemption.
"It is unfathomable, father," at last Esther said softly, "and to think that
His death was for even little Rosa, and the poor child knew nothing
about it! I felt ashamed and speechless when she asked me why she had
never been told before, having no reasonable answer whatever to give. I
wish I could tell you with what earnestness she said, 'Are you real sure
He paid the fare for everybody?' A fact so stupendous seemed quite
beyond her power of comprehension."
"Yes, daughter, His death included the fare for her as well as for you
and for me. In every soul He sees a pearl of greatest price."
"But Rosa left before I could explain anything to her about the