It was a pretty little ivy-clad cottage, with a bench outside and a table set invitingly for visitors, but the bench was unoccupied, and she looked about in vain for any sign of Gertrude or Cecil. Upon inquiry she found that she was the first visitor that afternoon. People had hardly come down yet, the woman explained; they generally came into Whitecliff this evening, Thursday, and this was a favourite Good Friday walk. Denys sat down to wait and had not been seated long, before the little voice that was so like Jerry's, fell upon her ear. "Hullo!" said little Harry, peeping round the door at her. "How did you come here?" asked Denys, but before she could get a reply, a sound of terrible coughing came from within, and a voice said, "Harry! Harry! you've left the door open!" Harry darted back, but returned very quickly. He seemed to like talking to Denys, but while she talked, Denys was watching for Gertrude and listening to that rending cough. Harry seemed to listen to it too. "That's mother," he said, "aren't you coming to see her?" "Oh, no!" said Denys shrinkingly, "she would not like it." Harry was off with his little petticoats flying, and was back again like a flash. "She wants you," he said triumphantly, "she's been a-listening to your voice!" He seized her hand, and led her into a little room behind the parlour, and on a low bed by the open window Denys saw a young woman with a pretty face, so like Harry's as to proclaim her his mother at once. She looked up at Denys with a smile. "Harry told me about you this morning," she said. "Won't you sit down, Miss? It is very kind of you to come in." Denys sat down. The window commanded a view of the garden gate, so she was in no danger of missing Gertrude. She wondered whatever had become of her. She found Mrs. Lyon very easy to talk to--and while Denys and his mother chatted, Harry climbed into the bed and fell fast asleep. Mrs. Lyon looked down at him tenderly. "It's hard to leave him," she said softly, "oh, so hard! My brother, Jim, who lives at Mixham Junction, has promised to take him, but I don't know what his wife is like. Jim don't never say much about her, and he'd be sure to if she was the right one for him, but Jim will be good to him, I know, and the Lord Jesus is our best Friend and He is the Good Shepherd. I often have to say that to myself to comfort myself." "Yes!" said Denys, sympathetically, her eyes on the almost baby face nestled on the pillow, her thoughts busy with wondering whether she could have left Jerry so trustingly in God's care. And Jerry had been her brother, not her child. She felt she could more willingly have had Jerry die, than have died herself and left him to other people to care for. Her thoughts came back to the present with a start. "Mixham Junction!" she said, "that is only five miles from my home in Old Keston!" The sick woman's face flushed and she laid her hand beseechingly on Denys's.