Part 3.
AFTER that first evening visit to Mary Keats, a new interest entered the life of little Geraldine L’Estrange. Nearly every week Mary spent one or more days sewing in the cheery housekeeper’s room at 6 Albert Square, and she had never been there long before the child’s golden head appeared at the door, and in answer to Mary’s loving smile of welcome, she was soon cuddled down beside her, eager for a story. I don’t suppose that you, my dear little readers, who have known the sweet stories in the Bible longer than you can remember, can guess the absorbing interest that they had for Geraldine. Mary loved to watch her eager face, and see her brown eyes light up, as she heard of Joseph’s wonderful ad ventures; of the child Samuel’s obedience to the Lord; and of David’s conquest over the lion, and over the giant; but what Geraldine best loved to hear was the story of the loving Jesus, the Good Shepherd who takes such care of His little lambs. Often Mary would teach her a new hymn, and then Geraldine always had to hear about Katie, for Mary had told her that it was from another little girl, just two years older than Geraldine, that she learned all her hymns and stories. In spite of her wealth, poor Geraldine had no such love showered upon her, as surrounded Katie Gray. Her parents indeed treasured her, but her father was too busy with his politics, and her mother with social duties, to spend much time with her, so that the poor sewing girl, and the little unknown Katie, came to have a great importance in her life.
One morning soon after Christmas, Lady L’Estrange was terrified to find her little girl dangerously ill. She sat pale and anxious by the little cot, watching the restless fever-tossings of her unconscious darling. Despair seemed to crush her, for she knew not to turn to the Father in heaven, who is so ready to be with us in all trouble.
“Send for Dr. Gray at once,” she said pleadingly to her husband. “I hear he is the best physician in the town.”
So Dr. Gray came, and his firm, gentle manner gave comfort and assurance round the little bed. Day by day he returned, until Geraldine began to long for his coming, and would stretch out her tiny arms by way of welcome as he entered.
“You are Katie’s papa,” she said one day; “Keats told me about you. How is Katie? I want to see her.”
“You shall see her someday I hope,” said he; “If your mamma has no objection I will bring her some morning in the carriage.”
Lady L’Estrange eagerly begged him to fulfil his promise, for the proposal had awakened a bright smile on the wan little face.
Often when Mary Keats was working in the house, she would come and sit with her needle by the cot, and tell the child pretty stories and sing sweet hymns. And as she heard stories about the life of Christ—of His goodness and gentleness and power—Geraldine learned to love Him as her Saviour, and though she was too young to understand much, she could understand that she needed the Lord Jesus and His loving care, and that He loved her, and wanted her to love Him.
Every day Geraldine was getting better, though her mother had to learn with sorrow that she was a fragile blossom, needing every care. The short constant cough too plainly told of the great delicacy of her chest.
Dr. Gray did not forget his promise, and one fine clear day Katie came. The Doctor went on to pay some visits, and the children were left alone, looking shyly at each other.
“Keats has often told me about you,” said Geraldine, putting up her mouth to kiss Katie. At this moment Keats slipped across from the room opposite, and soon the children were chattering away as if they had known each other all their lives. Katie had never seen so many beautiful toy, and Geraldine was delighted to have a playmate, so that when they reluctantly parted, it was with the promise of another meeting very soon.
But for many weeks after this they were kept prisoners by icy winds and storms, and it was not till spring the little girls were set free. Lord and Lady L’Estrange had to leave home for a time, and Geraldine was left under Dr. Gray’s special care, so that she and Katie met almost every day.
Sometimes it was a long drive into the country, and while the Doctor was visiting at some cottage, the little ones would fill their baskets with primroses, cowslips, mosses and ferns, which were planted, with or without roots, in Katie’s garden. At other times the day was spent in Katie’s nursery, playing with her big doll, Miss Melina, and drinking tea from the best tea-set. But wherever it was, they were happy to be together, and were always gentle and unselfish to each other, for both loved Jesus, and the love of Jesus must always produce in us love to one another.
One morning the postman brought a letter for Katie. She was delighted with a real letter for herself, and in it was the good news of an invitation to visit her grandmamma at her home, “Silversands,” on the seaside. The only trouble was, she must part from Geraldine. “It will be a great deal worse for her than for me,” thought the unselfish child; “so I must make the best of it when we meet.”
Two days after, Lady L’Estrange came to call on Mrs. Gray, and when she had left, her mother called Katie, saying, “Lady L’Estrange is going to lend you a real live doll to take to grandmamma.”
“What does it mean?” said Katie, puzzled, “O, I guess, it is Geraldine; say it is Geraldine, mamma!”
“Yes, it is Geraldine,” answered Mrs. Gray. “Your papa said she must have sea-air, and persuaded Lady L’Estrange to let her go to grandmamma’s. And Mary Keats is going too, to take care of you.”
Very joyful were the days of preparation, and at last the long-wished-for Tuesday arrived, and the happy children found themselves in the train puffing away to Silversands.
ML 01/23/1916