A PROMISE.
"IVOR," said Barbara solemnly, "you ought not to have gone like that,
not till we had asked Lucia. Now what is it you want to tell?"
Ivor looked first one way and then the other.
"Oh, Barbara, would Evan wish me to? He said I wasn't to till he said;
but—if he were to die?"
Barbara took her brother's hand, and knelt down silently by the bed;
but she could feel it being drawn away unwillingly.
"Had we not better tell God first, Ivor?"
"I can't—oh, Barbara, we've been so naughty—we ought to have told, and
we haven't—"
"Told what? Oh, Ivor! Why don't you now?"
"About having a fall—he fell on his head."
"Ivor!"
"It was the tricycle—"
"Tricycle?" echoed Barbara.
"Yes; we didn't mean to get into any harm. But we saw a jolly one, and
we hired it for an hour, and then we ran into a bank, and Evan hurt his
head and his foot; and we thought it wasn't much, and we hoped—"
He laid his head down beside her and cried bitterly.
"Do you think he will die?" he sobbed.
"I don't know; but, oh! Do ask God to forgive you for being so
deceitful, and then we'll go down and tell Lucia. How can we ask for
him to be made well while you haven't told the dear Lord Jesus that you
are sorry?"
Ivor threw his arms round her neck.
"I am, Barbara, I am sorry! Oh, do tell God how sorry I am! I'll tell
Him too!"
So with broken little words the boy asked forgiveness for their
deception, and then he passively let Barbara lead him down to where
Lucia sat in the dark, counting the minutes till the doctor should come
down to tell her—what?
But when the doctor came down, he had nothing very decisive to say. He
reported that Evan was sleeping more naturally, that nurse was with
him, and that he would call again in an hour or two, but that the house
must be kept perfectly quiet.
Lucia had already taken Ivor back to his room, and now told the doctor
of the fall from the tricycle.
He shook his head. "I guessed as much; I thought it was more than the
sun," he said, and went out into the moonlight.
As Lucia crossed the little passage, feeling as if she had lived days
instead of hours since yesterday, she heard from above a low sound of
crying.
Her heart stood still for a moment. Then she ran up noiselessly, and
found that it was Queenie crying in her bed, refusing even to be
pacified by Barbara's tender comfort.
She had missed her nurse, and receiving no answer to her whispered
inquiries about her brother, her resolution had broken down, and she
had begun a little wail of woe, which had brought Barbara to her side,
just as Lucia heard it too.
Lucia lifted her from her bed, and soothed her in her arms, telling
her that Evan was a little better, and that nurse was with him, till
the sobs ceased, and the little arms clung round her neck, not only
frightenedly, but lovingly.
"Tell me some more," said Queenie.
"Look at the stars, Queenie; see how bright the sky is! The moon
is under that cloud, but the stars are shining up in heaven so
beautifully. When we are sad, and look at the stars, it ought to make
us happy. Shall I tell you why?"
"But nurse says Evan is goin' to die!" said Queenie convulsively. "She
said it was Ivor's fault, and—I don't like havin' Evan die!"
"No, dear. But do you know, Queenie, why I want you to look at the
stars?"
Queenie gave a quick little glance upward, and then hid her face again
in her sister's neck.
"It is because they tell us of God's great love, Queenie! He holds the
stars up in the sky, and He holds Evan in His hand too; so we must
trust Him, Queenie, because He loves us so much."
Queenie's little lips kissed her over and over, and her arms clung
confidingly round her.
"I won't cry any more," she whispered.
"That is right, darling. May I put you back into bed now?"
"Yes."
"I will come and tell you if the doctor says Evan is better. And you
can ask God, Queenie. There is nothing so good as telling God."
So Queenie nestled into her pillow, closed her eyes with a peaceful
look, and Lucia crept downstairs again, her own heart comforted and
cheered.
After the doctor had looked in late that night, Lucia kept her promise,
and bent over her little sister's crib.
"Darling!" she whispered.
"Yes?" said Queenie, rousing herself quickly.
"God has made Evan better; the doctor says there is a wonderful change
in him these last two hours."
"I'm so d'lad," whispered the child back. "I 'fought He would, Lucia."