Chapter XVIII: "that Which Was Lost."

ADA gradually recovered; but still seemed not to wish to get up.

Christina remained with them during this time, and they hardly knew how much her presence lightened the gloom of their fresh sorrow.

She took the little girls, Nellie, and often Arthur, for a daily walk, and sometimes would persuade them into a short omnibus ride, and a walk in the park with her. Though they felt as if they could not bear to go, they yet came back refreshed and strengthened; and Christina was well repaid for her trouble, if trouble it could be called, when she saw the little girls looking happy, and Nellie's pale face relapse into a smile.

One day she told them she was going to make a call, and asked them if they would wait for her an hour; and if she did not come back to them in that time, would they return home.

"It is some one I do not know, Nellie; but when I come back, I will tell you about it; not just now. It is to the mother of that little boy I have, little Charlie Wood."

"Are you going to see her?" asked Arthur.

"Yes; I cannot bear not to try."

So, when they arrived at Hyde Park, Christina left them to enjoy themselves while she went to pay her visit in one of the streets near.

At the end of nearly an hour she came towards them, and asking Arthur to call a cab, she put them in it, promising to be home about six o'clock.

She returned at the appointed time, very tired; but after tea as they all sat together, Dr. Arundel having gone to his study, Christina said she would begin her story.

"I rang at the bell," she said, "and was asked up by an untidy servant to a shabby drawing room. I should however say that I knew she was in town on business, from her husband, who writes to me occasionally.

"Here's a lady, 'm,' said the untidy servant, announcing me without any warning.

"A person rose to greet me who had once been very pretty, and bowing, asked if I wished to speak to her on business.

"I said that I had come to see her, if she would allow me.

"She looked extremely astonished; and when I sat down by her and took her hand, and told her I knew she was in trouble, she was rather angry.

"But I would not be put off; and I explained to her that I knew of her sad history, and felt sure she desired to lead a new and better life.

"After a while she broke down utterly, and confessed that she was the most miserable woman living.

"'I did love my husband, and I do love my children; but I can't do without what I take, and it's of no use. I have tried, and tried, and tried; but it's of no use.'

"Oh, how hopelessly she wept! And I wept with her.

"'Why do you come to me?' she asked at last, looking suspiciously at me.

"'Because I grieve for you; because I have heard of your little baby without a mother's love, and I want you to begin a new life.'

"She looked at me wonderingly. 'Heard of my baby? Where is he?'

"'Where you will never see him again if you do not give up drink.'

"She bowed her head down on the table. 'I can't give it up,' she breathed, despair written on her face.

"'Are you willing to give it up?'

"'I am to-day—now, while you are talking to me; but to-morrow, or presently, when you are gone, the thirst will come on, and I shall go to it again; yes, I know I shall.'

"'Have you ever heard of the Son of God?' I asked.

"'Of course I have.'

"'Do you suppose that the devil is stronger than the Son of God?'

"'Sometimes I think he is.'

"'Then I am sure he is not. Christ is able to save to the uttermost them that come unto God by Him. He can save you even from desiring it again, if you ask Him.'

"She looked at me earnestly, and faltered out, 'Say those words again. Able—'

"'Able to save to the uttermost.'

"Then she sank on her knees by my side, and buried her face in her hands, and sobbed out words of prayer and entreaty.

"You may be sure I prayed too; and when she grew silent, and lifted her eyes to mine, I raised her up to sit by me once more.

"'Now,' I said, 'will you go for a visit to a nice house I know of at the sea-side, where they will help you to keep your resolve?'

"'But my business?'

"'You are not of much use in your business now, are you?'

"'No,' she said humbly.

"'Then leave all that. Your husband will see to it. He will only be too glad. I will come in an hour's time, and put you into the train, and telegraph to them to meet you, and with God's blessing, in three months' time you will be a different woman.'

"'And my children?'

"'Ask God to bless them, and make you fit to come back to them.'

"'I will,' she answered.

"Then I rose to go, promising to come back in an hour.

"'May I kiss you?' she said, holding my hand and gazing at me.

"So I stooped and kissed her.

"'Oh! I am not worthy,' she said, sinking beside me and burying her head in my lap.

"And then I felt, dears, that I was not worthy.

"But as I bent over her bowed head, I remembered He had come to seek and to save that which was lost—me, as well as her; blessed Jesus."