"Nurse says I may stay here all alone with you, uncle; won't that be lovely? May I give you your medicines, and be your nurse?" "I can't promise that, but you may sit there and talk to me." "What shall I talk about?" "Anything you like. You never seem to be at a loss for conversation." Milly considered for a moment. "I've had so few people to talk to lately, you see; I generally talk most to Fritz. He understands, I'm sure, but he doesn't talk back. When will you be quite well again, uncle?" "Not this side of Christmas, I'm afraid." "Oh dear, what a long time! But I'm very glad God has made you better. Nurse said it was a mercy you hadn't broken your neck. Do you know, uncle, I saw such a sad sight yesterday morning. I was down in the fir plantation with Fritz, and we came upon a dear little rabbit caught in a steel trap. Maxwell said a poacher had put it there, and he was very angry. The rabbit was quite dead, and his two hind legs were broken. Wasn't it dreadful? What is a poacher, uncle?" "A thief--a man that steals game that isn't his." "Maxwell says there are lots of poachers about. I'm so afraid he will think Tommy is one when he comes back. I do hope he will be careful, because if it's dark he might make a mistake. Wouldn't it be dreadful if he hurt his own prodigal son! And I expect Tommy will look very like a poacher. He is sure to have ragged, dirty clothes. If I was----" Here Milly paused, and gazed dreamily in front of her for some minutes in silence. "Well?" inquired Sir Edward, looking at his little niece with interest as she sat in her big chair, her elbows supported by her knees, and her chin resting in her hands, "are you going into a brown study?" "I was just thinking if I was a prodigal son--I mean a real one, not just playing at it, as I do--I would rather be one of God's prodigal sons, than belonging to any one else." "Why?" "Because I would know for certain He would meet me and take me back. Nurse told me she had a cousin who ran away and made himself a soldier, and when he was sorry and wanted to come home, his father shut the door in his face, and wouldn't let him in. And then there's Tommy, I can't help s'posing that his father mightn't know him. But God can't make mistakes. It must be lovely just to run right into God's arms, and hear Him saying, _'Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him.'_ I should love to have Him say that to me." Milly's little face glowed with pleasure at the thought, and she turned her expressive eyes toward her uncle, who lay with knitted brows listening to her. "And supposing if God would not receive you; supposing you had stayed away so long, and had refused to listen to His voice when He called, and then when you did want to come back, you felt it would be too late, what would you do then?" Milly smiled.