Polly was in good spirits that day, for little John was so much better that he was able to sit on the floor and play, and, as I stood looking out of my small casement window, I watched her washing up in a tub standing on a wooden stool outside her door, and I heard her singing to herself as she did so. Most of the visitors had left Runswick Bay now, for it was late in the season, but the shore was covered with the village children--boys and girls without shoes and stockings, wading in the pools and running far out into the shallow sea. It was a pretty sight, the grey, quiet water, the strips of yellow sand, and the cliff covered with grass and flowers. But I could not enjoy the scene that Saturday evening; even my artistic eye, of which I used sometimes to boast, failed me then. I was feeling thoroughly uncomfortable, and the most lovely view on earth would have failed to charm me at that moment. There is a verse in the Bible which says, 'A little child shall lead them,' and whenever I hear that verse I think of that evening in Runswick Bay. For I was still gazing out of my window, looking at I knew not what, when I heard a well-known little voice just beneath me. It was Jack. He had come down the hill beneath Duncan's cottage, so that I had not seen him until he spoke to me below the window. 'Mr. Jack,' he said, 'what are you doing up there? Are you _very_ busy?' 'No, old man,' I said, 'I'm not busy.' 'Then _do_ come out, that's a dear, big Mr. Jack; I do want you so much.' Who could resist the pleading little face, and the pretty, fascinating voice of that child? He would have a hard heart who could do so. I ran downstairs, and a minute afterwards I was racing with Jack on the wet sands, for the tide was fast going out, and was helping him to fly a small kite which his father had bought for him in Whitby. We had a fine time together on the shore, until at last a towel was hung out of the top window in the Christies' house, as a sign that it was Jack's bedtime. Though he was wild with joy and excitement, the obedient little fellow at once stopped his play, and told me mother wanted him, and he must go. 'I'm coming for you to-morrow morning, Mr. Jack,' he said. 'To-morrow morning, Jack?' 'Yes, for church,' said the child, putting up his dear little chubby face to be kissed. 'Don't go without me, will you, Mr. Jack?' 'Well, I'm not sure I'm going to-morrow, little man,' I said reluctantly, 'so you had better not call for me.' 'Not going to church!' said Jack, in a very shocked voice. 'Why not, Mr. Jack?' 'I'm going to Scarborough for the day with my friend Tom,' I said. 'I shall go to church in Scarborough, Jack.' I shall never forget the expression of that child's face as long as I live; it was a mixture of surprise, sorrow and dismay. 'Mr. Jack, do you know it's God's day to-morrow?' was all that he said, however; and as at this moment his mother called him from the bedroom window, he ran off without another word.