"Oh, Maurice! don't," entreated Cecile, "you are only a little baby
boy, and you don't understand."

"But I understood about the yard of rope," retorted Maurice slyly.

Yes, Cecile owned that Maurice had been very clever in that respect,
and she kissed him, and told him so, and then, taking his hand, they
ran out.

The weather was again fine, the short spell of cold had departed,
and the children could partly at least resume their old life in the
woods. They had plenty to eat, and a certain feeling of liberty which
everyone in the place shared. The cook, who liked them and pitied
them, supplied them with plenty of cakes and apples, and the
dairymaid treated Maurice to more than one delicious drink of cream.

Maurice became a thoroughly happy and contented little boy again,
and he often remarked to himself, but for the benefit of Cecile and
Toby, what a truly good thing it was that Mrs. Bell had died. Nay, he
was even heard to say that he wished someone could be always found
ready to die, and so make things pleasant in a house.

Cecile, however, looked at matters differently. To her Mrs. Bell's
death was a source of pain, for now there was no one at all left to
tell her how to find the guide she needed. Perhaps, however, Mrs.
Bell would talk to Jesus about it, for she was to see Jesus after she
was dead.

Cecile used to wonder where the old woman had gone, and if she had
found the real Mercy at last.