"My dear lamb," she said, "the blessed Lord Jesus'll guide you into France, or to any other place. Why, 'tis all on the road to the Celestial City, darling." "Oh! is it? Oh! would He really, really be so kind and beautiful?" said Cecile, sitting up and speaking with sudden eagerness and hope. "Oh, dear Jane! how I love you for telling me this! Oh! if only I had my purse of gold, how surely, how surely I should find Lovedy now." "Well, darling, there's no saying what may happen. You have Jane Parsons for your friend anyhow, and what is more, you have the Lord Jesus Christ. Eh! but He does love a little faithful thing like you. But see here, Cecile, 'tis getting dark, and I must run downstairs; but I'll send you up a real good supper by Maurice, and see that he and Toby have full and plenty. You lie here quite easy, Cecile, and don't stir till I come back to you. I'll bring you tidings of that purse as sure as my name's Jane, and ef I were you, Cecile, I'd just say a bit of a prayer to Jesus. Tell Him your trouble, it'll give you a power of comfort." "Is that praying? I did not know it was that." "That is praying, my poor little lamb; you tell it all straight away to the loving Jesus." "But He isn't here." "Oh, yes, darling! He'll be very nigh to you, I guess, don't you be frightened." "Does Jesus the guide come in the dark?" "He'll be with you in the dark, Cecile. You tell Him everything, and then have a good sleep." CHAPTER XIV. WHAT JANE PARSONS KNEW. When, a couple of hours later, Maurice, very tired and fagged after his long day's ramble, came upstairs, followed by Toby, and thrust into Cecile's hand a great hunch of seed-cake, she pushed it away, and said in an earnest, impressive whisper: "Hush!" "Oh, why?" asked Maurice; "you have been away all the whole day, Cecile; and Toby and me had no one to talk to, and now when I had such a lot to tell you, you say 'Hush' Why do you say 'Hush' Cecile?" "Oh, Maurice! don't talk, darling, 'tis because Lord Jesus the guide is in the room, and I think He must be asleep, for I have prayed a lot to Him, and He has not answered. Don't let's disturb Him, Maurice; a guide must be so tired when he drops asleep." "Where is He?" asked Maurice; "may I light a candle and look for Him?" "No, no, you mustn't; He only comes to people in the dark, so Jane says. You lie down and shut your eyes." "If you don't want your cake, may I eat it then?" "Yes, you may eat it. And, Toby, come into my arms, dear dog." Maurice was soon in that pleasant land of a little child's dreams, and Toby, full of most earnest sympathy, was petting and soothing Cecile in dog fashion. Meanwhile, Jane Parsons downstairs was not idle. Cecile's story, told after Cecile's fashion, had fired her honest heart with such sympathy and indignation that she was ready both to dare and suffer in her cause.