“You have had the picture I gave you taken away, uncle,” said Milly presently, her quick eyes roving round the room.  “Ah! you’ve had it hung up on the wall.  That’s nice there.  You can see it from your bed.  Don’t you like looking at it?  Doesn’t it make you feel happy?”

“I can’t say it does,” replied Sir Edward, glancing at the picture in question.  “Why ought it to make me feel happy?”

“Oh, it’s so nice to think he is just getting home after being away so long.  I wonder if he was a great time walking back.  How long do you think it takes one of God’s prodigal sons to get back to Him, uncle?”

“I should say a very long time, indeed,” said Sir Edward, slowly.

“But how long?  Two days, or six hours, or a week?”

“It would depend perhaps on how long they had been away from Him.”

“It’s rather hard to understand,” said Milly, wrinkling her little brow perplexedly, “because God is everywhere, isn’t He? and I should have thought He would have been close by them all the time.  I was asking nurse about it, and she said that God was near them, only they wouldn’t have anything to say to Him, and did bad things and shut the Lord Jesus out of their heart, and let Satan in, and then God had to leave them till they said they said they were sorry.  I suppose directly they say:  ’Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in Thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called Thy son,’ then God just folds them in His arms and forgives them and takes them back again; isn’t that it?”

“Look here, I think we have had enough of this subject.  Talk about something else.”

Sir Edward’s tone was irritable.  Milly’s ready tongue obeyed.

“Nurse says it’s so cold to-day that she thinks it will snow.  Do you think it will?  It is quite smoky by the river; nurse says it is a fog.  I wondered where it all came from.  Do you think it might be God’s breath, uncle?”

As she was chatting on, suddenly there came a sharp knock at the door, and a visitor appeared.

“Thought I’d look you up, for I heard you were on the sick list.  Good gracious! you have been pretty bad, haven’t you?  Will you put me up for a night or two?  I expect you want a little cheerful company.”

Talking volubly, Major Lovell—­for it was he—­came forward and looked with real concern on Sir Edward’s altered face.

“I’m very glad to see you,” said the latter, heartily, holding out his hand.  “Come and stay for as long as you like.  I’m sick to death of my own society.”

“And is this the small party that arrived so unexpectedly when I was here before?” inquired Major Lovell, looking down at Milly, who still sat in the big chair, regarding the new-comer with her large brown eyes.

“Yes,” said Sir Edward, a faint smile hovering about his lips as he remembered his horror of her advent; “she is taking charge of me this afternoon.”

Milly held out her little hand with all the grace of a duchess.