was He who had sent back her purse. Suppose she met Him in the street
to-day, and He knew her? Suppose He came out of the church behind
them? Or suppose, suppose He came to her again in the dark in that
"lodging for the night," where they must go? Cecile wished much that
Jesus would come in the daylight; she wanted to see His face, to look
into His kind eyes. But even to feel that He would be with her in the
dark was a great comfort in her present desolation.

Cecile was aroused from her meditations by something very soft and
warm rubbing against her hand. She raised her eyes to encounter the
honest and affectionate gaze of Toby.

Toby's eyes were bright, and he was wagging his tail, and altogether
seeming as if he found life agreeable. He gamboled a little when
Cecile looked at him, and put his forepaws on her lap. Toby meant
nothing by this but to please and cheer his little mistress. He saw
she was down and tired, and he was determined to put a bold face on
things, and to get a bit of sunshine, even on this December
afternoon, into his own honest eyes, if it would come nowhere else.
Generally Cecile was the brightest of the party; now Toby was
determined to show her that he was a dog worth having in adversity.

She did think so. Tears sprang to her own blue eyes. She threw her
arms round Toby's neck and gave him a great hug. In the midst of this
caress the dog's whole demeanor changed; he gave a quick spring out
of Cecile's embrace, and uttered an angry growl. A girl was
approaching by stealthy steps at the back of the little party.

The moment she heard Toby's bark she changed her walk to a quick run
and threw herself down beside Cecile with an easy hail-fellow-well-met