THE LOST LAMB FOUND
The time that Rosalie waited in the arbour seemed very, very long to her.
Every minute was like an hour, and at the least sound she started from her
seat, and looked down the gravel path. But it was only a bird, or a falling
leaf, or some other trifling sound, which Rosalie's anxious ears had
exaggerated.
But at last, when the sound she had been listening for so long did really
come, when footsteps were heard on the gravel path coming towards the
arbour, Rosalie sat still, until they drew close, for in a moment all the
fears she had had by the way returned upon her.
They were very quick and eager footsteps which Rosalie heard, and in
another moment, almost before she knew that her Aunt Lucy had entered the
arbour, she found herself locked in her arms.
'Oh, my little Rosalie,' said she, with a glad cry, 'have I found you at
last?'
For Jessie had told Mrs. Leslie that it was Norah's child who was waiting
to speak to her in the arbour.
Rosalie could not speak. For a long time after that she was too full of
feeling for any words. And her Aunt Lucy could only say, over and over
again, 'My little Rosalie, have I found you at last?' It seemed to Rosalie
more like what the Good Shepherd said of His lost sheep than anything she
had ever heard before.
'Have you been looking for me, dear Aunt Lucy?' she said at last.
'Yes, darling, indeed I have!' said her aunt. 'Ever since Jessie came back,
I have been trying to find out where you were. I wanted so much to see your
mother; but before I arrived at the place she was dead. I saw her grave,
Rosalie, darling; I heard about her dying in the fair; and my husband found
out where she was buried, and we went and stood by her grave. And ever
since then, dear child, I have been looking for you; but I had lost all
clue to you, and was almost giving it up in despair. But I've found you
now, darling, and I am so very thankful!'
Then Rosalie opened her bag, and took out the precious letter. How her Aunt
Lucy's hand trembled as she opened it! It was like getting a letter from
another world! And then she began to read, but her eyes were so full of
tears that she could hardly see the words.
'MY OWN DARLING SISTER,
'I am writing this letter with the faint hope that Rosalie may one day
give it to you. It ought not to be a faint hope, because I have turned it
so often into a prayer. Oh, how many times have I thought of you, since
last we met, how often in my dreams you have come to me and spoken to me!
'I am too ill and too weak to write much, but I want to tell you that your
many prayers for me have been answered at last. The lost sheep has been
found, and has been carried back to the fold. I think I am the greatest
sinner that ever lived, and yet I believe my sins are washed away in the
blood of Jesus.
'I would write more, but am too exhausted. But I want to ask you (if it is
possible for you to do so) to save my sweet Rosalie from her mother's fate.
She is such a dear child. I know you would love her--and I am so very
unhappy about leaving her amongst all these temptations.
'I know I do not deserve any favour from you, and you cannot think what
pain it gives me to think how often you have been asked for money in my
name. That has been one of the greatest trials of my unhappy life.
'But if you can save my little Rosalie, oh, dear sister, I think even in
heaven I shall know it, and be more glad. I would ask you to do it, not for
my sake, for I deserve nothing but shame and disgrace, but for the sake of
Him who has said, "Whoso shall receive one such little child in My name
receiveth Me."
'Your loving sister,
'NORAH.'
'When did your dear mother write the letter, Rosalie?' Aunt Lucy asked, as
soon as she could speak after she had finished reading it.
Rosalie told her that it was written only a few days before her mother
died. And then she put her hand inside her dress, and brought out the
locket, which she laid in Mrs. Leslie's hand.
'Do you remember _that_, Aunt Lucy?' she said.
'Yes, darling, I do,' said her aunt; 'I gave that to your mother years ago,
before she left home. I remember I saved up my money a very long time that
I might buy it.'
'My mother did love that locket so much,' said the child. 'She said she had
promised you she would keep it as long as she lived; and I was to tell you
she had kept her promise, and had hidden it away, lest any one should take
it from her. I have tried so hard to keep it safe since she died; but we
have been in a great big lodging-house all the winter, and I was so afraid
it would be found and taken from me.'
'Where is your father now, Rosalie?' asked her aunt anxiously.
'He's dead,' said the child; 'he has been dead more than a week.' And she
told of the accident, and the death in the hospital.
'Then you are my little girl now, Rosalie,' said her Aunt Lucy--'my own
little girl, and no one can take you from me.'
'Oh, dear Aunt Lucy, may I really stay?'
'Why, Rosalie darling, I have been looking for you everywhere, and my only
fear was that your father would not want to part with you. But now, before
we talk any more, you must come in and see your uncle; he is very anxious
to see you.'
Rosalie felt rather afraid again when her aunt said this, but she rose up
to follow her into the house. And then she remembered the little kitten,
which she covered with her shawl, and which was lying fast asleep under it
in a corner of the arbour.
'Please, Aunt Lucy,' said Rosalie timidly, 'is there a bird?'
'Where, dear?' said Mrs. Leslie, looking round her. 'I don't see one.'
'No, not here in the garden,' explained Rosalie; 'I mean in your house.'
'No, there's no bird, dear child. What made you think there was one?'
'Oh, I'm so glad, so very, very glad!' said Rosalie, with tears in her
eyes. 'Then, may I bring her?'
'Bring who, Rosalie dear? I don't understand.'
'Oh, Aunt Lucy,' said the child, 'don't be angry. I have a little kit here
under my shawl. She's the dearest little kit; and we love each other so
much, and if she had to go away from me I think she would die. She loved me
when no one else in the lodging-house did, except Betsey Ann; and if only
she may come, I'll never let her go in any of the best rooms, and I won't
let her be any trouble.' When she had said this, she lifted up the shawl,
and brought out the black kitten, and looked up beseechingly into her
aunt's face.
'What a dear little kitten!' said her aunt. 'May will be pleased with it,
she is so fond of kittens; and only the other day I promised her I would
get one. Bring her in, and she shall have some milk.'
A great load was lifted off little Rosalie's heart when Mrs. Leslie said
this, for it would have been a very great trial to her to part from her
little friend.
Rosalie's uncle received her very kindly, and said, with a pleasant smile,
that he was glad the little prairie flower had been found at last, and was
to blossom in his garden. Then she went upstairs with her Aunt Lucy to get
ready for dinner. She thought she had never seen such a beautiful room as
Mrs. Leslie's bedroom. The windows looked out over the fields and trees to
the blue hills beyond.
Then her aunt went to a wardrobe which stood at one end of the room, and
brought out a parcel, which she opened, and inside Rosalie saw a beautiful
little black dress very neatly and prettily made.
'This is a dress which came home last night for my little May,' said her
aunt, 'but I think it will fit you, dear; will you try it on?'
'Oh, Aunt Lucy,' said Rosalie, 'what a beautiful frock! but won't May want
it?'
'No; May is from home,' said Mrs. Leslie. 'She is staying with your Uncle
Gerald. There will be plenty of time to have another made for her before
she returns.'
Rosalie hardly knew herself in the new dress, and felt very shy at first;
but it fitted her exactly, and her Aunt Lucy was very much pleased indeed.
Then Mrs. Leslie brought a black ribbon, and tied the precious locket round
the little girl's neck; there was no longer any need to hide it.
After this they went downstairs, and Rosalie had a place given her at
dinner between her uncle and her aunt. Jessie looked very much astonished
when she was told to put another knife and fork and plate on the table for
Rosalie; but her mistress, seeing her surprised face, called her into
another room, and in a few words told her who the little girl was, at the
same time begging her, for Rosalie's sake, not to mention to any one in the
village where and how she had seen the child before. This Jessie most
willingly promised. 'There was nothing she would not do for Rosalie's
sake,' she said; 'for she would never have been there had it not been for
Rosalie and her mother.'
That afternoon the child sat on a stool at her Aunt Lucy's feet, and they
had a long talk, which little Rosalie enjoyed more than words can tell. She
gave her aunt a little history of her life, going back as far as she could
remember. Oh, how eagerly Mrs. Leslie listened to anything about her poor
sister! How many questions she asked, and how many tears she shed!
When Rosalie had finished, her aunt told her once more how glad and
thankful she was to have her there, and more especially as she felt sure
that her little Rosalie loved the Good Shepherd and tried to please Him,
and therefore would never, never do any harm to her own little May, but
would rather help her forward in all that was right.
The child slipped her hand in that of her Aunt Lucy when she said this,
with a very loving and assuring smile. 'So now, Rosalie dear, you must look
upon me as your mother,' said Mrs. Leslie; 'you must tell me all your
troubles, and ask me for anything you want, just as you would have asked
your own dear mother.'
'Please, Aunt Lucy,' said Rosalie gratefully, 'I think the pasture is very
green indeed.'
'What do you mean, my dear child?'
'I mean, Aunt Lucy, I have been very lonely and often very miserable
lately; but the Good Shepherd has brought me at last to a very green
pasture; don't you think He has?'
But Mrs. Leslie could only answer the little girl by taking her in her arms
and kissing her.
That night, when Rosalie went upstairs to bed, Jessie came into her room to
bring her some hot water.
'Oh, Jessie,' said Rosalie, 'how are Maggie and the baby?'
'To think you remembered about them!' said Jessie. 'They are quite well.
Oh, you must see them soon.'
'Then they were all right when you got home?' said the child, 'were they,
Jessie?'
'Oh yes, God be thanked!' said Jessie; 'I didn't deserve it. Oh, how often
I thought of those children when I lay awake those miserable nights in the
circus! They had cried themselves to sleep, poor little things; when my
mother came back, she found them lying asleep on the floor.'
'Wasn't she very much frightened?' asked Rosalie.
'Yes, that she was,' said Jessie, with tears in her eyes; 'she was so ill
when I came home that I thought she would die. I thought she would die, and
that I had killed her. She had hardly slept a wink since I went away; and
she was as thin as a ghost. I hardly should have know her anywhere else.'
'But what did she say when you came back?'
'Oh, she wasn't angry a bit,' said Jessie; 'only she cried so, and was so
glad to have me back, that it seemed almost worse to bear than if she had
scolded. And then quite quickly she began to get better; but if I hadn't
come then, I believe she would have died.'
'Is she quite well now?' asked the child.
'Yes; quite strong and well again, and as bright as ever. She was so glad
when Mrs. Leslie said I might come here and be her housemaid. My mother
says it's a grand thing to lie down to sleep at night feeling that her
children are all safe, and she can never thank God enough for all He has
done for me. I told her of you and your mother, and she prays for you every
day, my mother does, that God may reward and bless you.'
The next morning, when Rosalie opened her eyes, she could not at first
remember where she was. She had been dreaming she was in the dismal
lodging-house, and that Betsey Ann was touching her hand, and waking her
for their ten minutes' reading.
But when she looked up, it was only her little black kitten, which was
feeling strange in its new home, and had crept up to her, and was licking
her arm.
'Poor little kit!' said Rosalie, as she stroked it gently; 'you don't know
where you are.' The kitten purred contentedly when its little mistress
comforted it, and the child was at leisure to look round the room.
It was her Cousin May's little room; and her Aunt Lucy had said she might
sleep there until another room just like it was made ready for her. Rosalie
was lying in a small and very pretty iron bedstead with white muslin
hangings. She peeped out of her little nest into the room beyond.
Through the window she could see the fields and the trees and the blue
hills, just as she had done from her Aunt Lucy's windows. The furniture of
the room was very neat and pretty, and Rosalie looked at it with admiring
eyes. Over the washhand-stand, and over the chest of drawers, and over the
table were hung beautiful illuminated texts, and Rosalie read them one by
one as she lay in bed. There was also a little bookcase full of May's
books, and a little wardrobe for May's clothes. How much Rosalie wondered
what her cousin was like, and how she wished the time would arrive for her
to come home!
Then the little girl jumped out of bed, and went to the window to look out.
The garden beneath her looked very lovely in the bright morning sunshine;
the roses and geraniums and jessamine were just in their glory, and
underneath the trees she could see patches of lovely ferns and mosses. How
she wished her mother could have been there to see them also! She had
always loved flowers so much.
Rosalie dressed herself, and went out into the garden. How sweet and
peaceful everything seemed! She went to the gate--that gate which she had
looked through a year before--and gazed out into the blue distance. As she
was doing so, she heard the sound of wheels, and three or four caravans
bound for Pendleton fair went slowly down the road.
What a rush of feeling came over the child as she looked at them! Oh, how
kind the Good Shepherd had been to her! Here she was, safe and sheltered in
this quiet, happy home; and she would never, never have to go to a fair or
a theatre again. Rosalie looked up at the blue sky above, and said from the
bottom of her heart--
'Oh, Good Shepherd, I do thank Thee very much for bringing me to the green
pasture! Oh, help me to love Thee and please Thee more than ever! Amen.'