"Yes," said Mrs. Headley; "but anything else?" "Is it sin, mother?" asked Agnes, in a low tone. "Yes, my dear children, it is sin. The black is sin; 'hopeless night,' 'discomfort,' 'blindness,' 'being lost'--all you have said summed up in that one dark page--sin." "Now I guess," exclaimed John hastily, "the red is Blood. Oh, I guess now!" "The Blood of Jesus, the Son of God. Nothing else can take the black sin away. But that _can_; yes, the blood is easier to read than the sin, isn't it, dears?" "I don't see why," said Hugh, looking puzzled. "Do you not think it is hard to feel that we are utterly black and sinful, no good in us at all?" "Oh, mother!" "But turn over the page, and the Blood shuts out all remembrance of the sin. The Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the world." "How beautiful!" said Agnes. Their mother turned to the next page, and went on. "Then, when the Blood has cleansed us, what are we?" "Whiter than snow," said Minnie reverently. "That is right, little Minnie; and I think the white reminds us of two or three things. Can you suggest them, children?" "How pure we ought to be?" asked Agnes. "Yes, and how pure He is," answered her mother. "'These are they that have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb,'" said Alice. "That was our text last Sunday." "So it was, and the end of it introduces us to our final page, and that lasts for ever." "Gold," said Minnie. "Glory," said Hugh. "Everlasting glory, all joy and light for evermore. All purchased for us by that one page which cost Him His life's blood. Now, dear children, repeat over to me the lessons of this little book, that we may all remember them together-- Black--Red--White--Gold. The children repeated the words as their mother turned the pages, and then she added: Sin--Blood--Righteousness--Glory. Mrs. Headley then passed a book to each of them, saying in a low tone, with an earnestness which impressed her young hearers, "May all of you fly from the first, take refuge in the second, be covered by the third, and share the last." When their mother had left them Minnie stood looking long and lovingly at her little treasure, as if she would read its wordless leaves if she could. "I think this book has a whole story on each page," said Agnes thoughtfully. "I wish you could tell us one," answered Minnie, looking up wistfully. "Perhaps I will next Sunday," replied Agnes. [Illustration] CHAPTER III. _THE DARK CAVERN: AN ALLEGORY._ "You promised to tell us a story of the 'Wordless pages,' Agnes," said Minnie on Sunday afternoon, when the children had left their parents to a few moments' quiet, and were gathered in the drawing-room to spend the hour in which Agnes generally read to them. "I have not forgotten," answered Agnes, "but, as mother said, the first page is very hard to read, and the second page----" "Well?" said John.