Only a step to Jesus! 
    Oh, why not come and say,
  “Gladly to Thee, my Saviour,
    I give myself away?”
    Only a step, only a step,
    Come, He waits for thee;
    Come, and thy sin confessing,
    Thou shalt receive a blessing: 
    Do not reject the mercy
    He freely offers thee.’

I was glad to see at the end of the service that Duncan’s mate was still sitting under the old boat with his hands over his face.  He had evidently felt the sermon very much, and when he rose to go home after the others had dispersed, I saw Mr. Christie walking by his side.

That was a lovely Sunday evening.  The storm of the week before seemed to have cleared the air, and there was a golden light over everything, until the sun went down behind the hill.  I spent the evening at Mrs. Christie’s, for Polly was still fully occupied with the child, and was not able to attend to much of the work downstairs.  Duncan did the cooking now, and the washing up and the cleaning, and I never saw a more handy man.  He waited on me hand and foot, as if I was a lord; but I felt that I was giving the dear fellow a great deal of trouble, and was glad, therefore, to accept Mrs. Christie’s invitation to have tea and supper at their house.

Little Jack welcomed me with the greatest joy.  He was so delighted to have me at tea, and contemplated me with so much delight and interest from his high chair by my side, that he quite forgot to eat his own tea, and had to be recalled from his admiration of me, time after time, by his mother.  After tea he told her he had a great secret to confide to her; he dragged her from the room and led her upstairs, and then with closed doors, and in a whisper so low that she could scarcely distinguish the words, he told her solemnly, ’I do love big Mr. Jack very much,’ which secret his faithless mother was treacherous enough to reveal to me, after we had been upstairs that evening to see little Jack in bed.

After we came down, Mrs. Christie lighted the lamp, and we were sitting cosily round the fire talking of my mother, when suddenly there came a knock at the outer door.

‘Who can it be?’ said Mrs. Christie hastily; ’some one must be ill, I think, so few people come on Sunday.’

She was going to the door, but her little maid had already opened it, and coming into the parlour she announced,—­

’There’s a gentleman, sir, at the door, says as how he wants Mr. Villiers, sir.’

‘A gentleman!’ I repeated in astonishment, ‘wanting me!’

‘Yes, sir, he says he wants you very pertickler, he does.’

I went quickly to the door, wondering very much who could be there, and to my great astonishment I found my friend Tom Bernard, with a black bag in his hand, eagerly awaiting my approach.

‘Found at last, old chap,’ he cried when he saw me; ’why, I’ve been hunting for you all over in this rabbit-warren of a place, till at last some of these fisher-lads told me you were in here.’