"That was what she said. I said, 'Rosalie, child, confess to God. He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins.' Margaret, I never shall forget the answer she gave me. She said in a sort of despair, 'I have! I have! but He hides His face.'" "Poor child!" said Margaret. "I will go in to-morrow and see her." Somehow, Margaret had never found the parting from Philip so hard as it was to-day. "I have such an unaccountable dread of something happening to him," she said. "I have never felt it before." "I ain't gwineter let nothin' happen to him, Miss Margaret. He jes' as safe with me as he is with you. Ain't I tuk good keer of him all winter?" The child did look the picture of health and wholesomeness. His cheeks were glowing now from his chase of Louis and his eyes were bright. But at the mention of his going they overflowed. "Mama, I don't want to go! Why can't I stay wiv you and Louis?" "Oh, darling!" It broke her heart to send him away. Mammy Cely was to take Philip to his uncle's office on F Street. When she got there Mr. De Jarnette was just starting to leave the place with some papers. "Take him on to the B. and O.," he directed. "I have to see a man on North Capitol, but I will be at the station before train time." "Unker Wichard, let me go wiv you," begged Philip. "I won't bovver you." Mr. De Jarnette considered. It was but a step from North Capitol to the station, and he wanted to see the man but for a moment. "All right, Philip." Adding to the old woman, "We will meet you at the B. and O." "Marse Richard," said Mammy Cely, with unaccountable shrinking from letting the child go out of her keeping, "please, sir, don't take him. I--I done promise Miss Margaret I ain't gwineter let nothin' happen to him. Look lak I can't bear to have him outer my sight. No, sir." He stopped her with a peremptory gesture. "Go along to the station. I certainly can take care of this child for fifteen minutes. Come, Philip." While they were waiting in the house on North Capitol Mr. De Jarnette took out the deed he had to deliver and was looking it over. The girl who opened the door had said Mr. Holton would be in in a moment. But the moment lengthened, and Philip catching sight of a child peering in bashfully from the hall, and feeling the attraction of youth for youth, edged out toward him. Then the man of the house came into the parlor from a room back of it, and the sound of voices came to Philip. He was very sure that he was not bothering his Uncle Richard now and he was by nature a friendly child. "What's the matter wiv your hands?" he asked. The other child, a little younger, stood bashfully picking at his palm. "Peelin'," he said laconically. Then, brightening up, "Say! I got a dog."