One day she called him her "little Hobab," and when he laughed and asked her why she gave him such a funny name, she said it was because, long, long ago, when Moses was travelling through the wilderness with the children of Israel, he said to his brother-in-law, Hobab: "Thou mayest be to us instead of eyes." And she said that God had sent little Stephen to her, in her old age, that he might be instead of eyes to her. "I am so sorry for those poor graves," said Stephen on that spring evening, when he had been telling Granny Robin about the sunlight and the swallows. "Why are you sorry for them?" asked the old woman. "They look so sad and lonely," said Stephen. "What are they like?" asked Granny Robin. "Oh, all green and dirty," said Audrey, "and the trees are fallen against them, and when the wind blows, their branches go beat, beat, beat, against the stones, till Aunt Cordelia says she can't bear to hear them when she's in bed at night." "Does nobody bring flowers to put on them?" asked the old woman. "No, never," said little Stephen. "Nor wreaths?" "Oh no, never." "Does no one ever come to look at them?" "No, never once, Granny Robin," said Audrey. "And they do look so sad," said Stephen. "Yes," said the little girl, "I went with Aunt Cordelia to the cemetery one day, and it's lovely there, just like a garden; the flowers are beautiful, and there were heaps of people watering graves, and raking them and pulling off the dead flowers, and some of them were crying." "But no one cries over these graves," said Granny Robin. "No, not one person," said Stephen. "My father says all the people that loved them are dead and buried themselves." "Poor forgotten graves!" said the old woman. "And my grave will be like one of them in fifty years' time—a forgotten grave." She was talking to herself more than to the children, but little Stephen answered her. "Will no one remember it, Granny Robin?" "Yes, some one will," she said brightly; "my Lord will never forget. He will know where it is, and whose body lies inside, and it will be safe in His care till the great Resurrection Day." "Will the angels know too?" said Stephen. "I think they will," she said. "Do they know who are buried in these poor old graves?" asked the child. "Yes, I believe they do," said the old woman. "In every one?" "Yes, in every one." "Even when the names are worn off?" asked the little boy. "Yes, I believe they do," said Granny Robin softly. "I'm so glad," said Stephen. "Then maybe the angels do come and look at them sometimes. I expect they come at night, when Audrey and me are in bed. I'll get out and look some night, Granny Robin; maybe I shall see them; my window looks out this way."