"I'm sure you do; and to those who love Him He says, 'No man is able to pluck them out of My hand.' When once we are in the care of Jesus, nothing shall ever drag us away from that." "Is that why Jesus has sent me to you, mo'ver-Meg?" "I expect it is, Dickie; He's been very good to you." Dickie smiled happily, then started up expectantly. "There's fa'ver-Jem!" he exclaimed. "So it is," cried Meg. Even then he did not attempt to look, but sat in an attitude of suppressed excitement, till Jem really came in and shut the door. "Where's my secret?" asked Dickie eagerly. "Let me speak to Meg first," answered Jem, coming to his wife's side and kissing her. "Well, sweetheart, the room don't look like the same with you out of it, that's certain!" "No," said Cherry, "I never saw her in it afore, but I couldn't think it 'ud look so much better." Meg smiled at their love and praise, and then Cherry made the tea. Meanwhile Jem went to the corner and uncovered something which stood there, bringing it forward to Dickie, and telling him to look at what it was. Dickie leaned forward, opened his eyes, gave a cry of pain, and then looked pitifully up in Meg's face. "I can't see, mo'ver-Meg; where is it? It's all dark 'ere. Do light the lamp for me." But no lamp could be of any avail, as Meg saw when he felt about with his tiny hands in the broad daylight to find his way to the secret. "Here, darling," said Meg, struggling with her tears, and commanding her voice by a great effort, "here is the secret; put your little hands and feel it." Dickie, believing that the lamp had not yet been lighted, and not guessing or being capable of understanding the calamity which had fallen upon him, let her guide his hands to the arms of a little chair, high enough to reach the table. "For me?" asked Dickie; "a chair for my werry own?" "Yes," answered Jem, taking him from Meg and placing him in it. "See, Dickie, you can play by the table or sit by the fire. I have made it for your very own." "Kind fa'ver-Jem," said Dickie, contentedly. "Now Cherry, light the lamp, so as I can see it." Meg looked at Jem as if seeking strength from his pitying eyes; then she bent and laid her cheek against Dickie's head as she said tenderly-- "It's because your eyes have been so bad, dear." "Will they get better?" he asked. "I am not sure, dear." "I want to see my booful chair, and mo'ver-Meg!" Jem took the child out of the chair and wrapped his arms round him, pacing up and down the room with him on his breast. "Kind fa'ver-Jem," said Dickie, settling himself in those strong arms. They went up and down for some minutes, while Meg and Cherry wept, and wiped away their tears in turn. By-and-by they heard Dickie ask in a whisper-- "Shall I ever get better, and be able to see my mo'ver-Meg?" And Jem answered, in that low husky voice which betokened strong emotion--