'Poor little Rosalie!' said Jessie, putting her arms round her, and shedding tears also. 'I am so very, very sorry!'

'Please, Jessie,' said Rosalie through her tears, 'did you remember to give Mrs. Leslie my mammie's message?'

'Yes, dear, that I did. Do you think I would forget anything she asked me?

Why, I should never have been here if it hadn't been for her.'

'Can you remember what you said to Mrs. Leslie, Jessie?'

'Yes, dear. It was the first time she came to our house after I came back.

I told her all about what I had done, and where I had been. And then I told her how I had met with a woman who used to know her many years ago, but who hadn't seen her for a long, long time, and that this woman had sent her a message. So she asked me who this woman was, and what the message was which she had sent her. I told her that the woman's name was Norah, but I didn't know her other name, and that Norah sent her respects and her love, and I was to say that she had not very long to live, but that the Good Shepherd had sought her and found her, and that she was not afraid to die. And then, Rosalie, she cried when I told her that, and went away. But she came again about half an hour after that, and asked me ever so many questions about your mother, and I told her all I could. I told her how ill she was, and how she liked the hymn, and all about you, and how good you were to your mother. And then I told her how beautifully your mother talked to me about the Good Shepherd, and how she begged me to ask the Good Shepherd to find me, and how I had done as she begged me, and I hoped that He was carrying me home on His shoulder. And I told her, dear, how kind you both were to me, and how you gave me that money, and made me promise to know which road the caravan was on, and which fair it was going to. She asked a many questions about that, and wanted to know if I could tell her what town would be the next you would stop at after the one you were going to when I met you; but I couldn't. Now I must go in, dear, and get dinner ready; but I'll tell my mistress as soon as she comes.'

So Rosalie sat down in the arbour to wait. But she could hardly sit still a minute, she felt so excited and restless.

Only now and again she lifted up her heart in prayer to the Good Shepherd, asking Him to make her aunt love her and help her.

CHAPTER XXII

THE LOST LAMB FOUND

The time that Rosalie waited in the arbour seemed very, very long to her.

Every minute was like an hour, and at the least sound she started from her seat, and looked down the gravel path. But it was only a bird, or a falling leaf, or some other trifling sound, which Rosalie's anxious ears had exaggerated.

But at last, when the sound she had been listening for so long did really come, when footsteps were heard on the gravel path coming towards the arbour, Rosalie sat still, until they drew close, for in a moment all the fears she had had by the way returned upon her.

They were very quick and eager footsteps which Rosalie heard, and in another moment, almost before she knew that her Aunt Lucy had entered the arbour, she found herself locked in her arms.

'Oh, my little Rosalie,' said she, with a glad cry, 'have I found you at last?'

For Jessie had told Mrs. Leslie that it was Norah's child who was waiting to speak to her in the arbour.

Rosalie could not speak. For a long time after that she was too full of feeling for any words. And her Aunt Lucy could only say, over and over again, 'My little Rosalie, have I found you at last?' It seemed to Rosalie more like what the Good Shepherd said of His lost sheep than anything she had ever heard before.

'Have you been looking for me, dear Aunt Lucy?' she said at last.

'Yes, darling, indeed I have!' said her aunt. 'Ever since Jessie came back, I have been trying to find out where you were. I wanted so much to see your mother; but before I arrived at the place she was dead. I saw her grave, Rosalie, darling; I heard about her dying in the fair; and my husband found out where she was buried, and we went and stood by her grave. And ever since then, dear child, I have been looking for you; but I had lost all clue to you, and was almost giving it up in despair. But I've found you now, darling, and I am so very thankful!'

Then Rosalie opened her bag, and took out the precious letter. How her Aunt Lucy's hand trembled as she opened it! It was like getting a letter from another world! And then she began to read, but her eyes were so full of tears that she could hardly see the words.

'MY OWN DARLING SISTER,

'I am writing this letter with the faint hope that Rosalie may one day give it to you. It ought not to be a faint hope, because I have turned it so often into a prayer. Oh, how many times have I thought of you, since last we met, how often in my dreams you have come to me and spoken to me!

'I am too ill and too weak to write much, but I want to tell you that your many prayers for me have been answered at last. The lost sheep has been found, and has been carried back to the fold. I think I am the greatest sinner that ever lived, and yet I believe my sins are washed away in the blood of Jesus.

'I would write more, but am too exhausted. But I want to ask you (if it is possible for you to do so) to save my sweet Rosalie from her mother's fate.

She is such a dear child. I know you would love her--and I am so very unhappy about leaving her amongst all these temptations.

'I know I do not deserve any favour from you, and you cannot think what pain it gives me to think how often you have been asked for money in my name. That has been one of the greatest trials of my unhappy life.

'But if you can save my little Rosalie, oh, dear sister, I think even in heaven I shall know it, and be more glad. I would ask you to do it, not for my sake, for I deserve nothing but shame and disgrace, but for the sake of Him who has said, "Whoso shall receive one such little child in My name receiveth Me."

'Your loving sister, 'NORAH.'

'When did your dear mother write the letter, Rosalie?' Aunt Lucy asked, as soon as she could speak after she had finished reading it.

Rosalie told her that it was written only a few days before her mother died. And then she put her hand inside her dress, and brought out the locket, which she laid in Mrs. Leslie's hand.

'Do you remember _that_, Aunt Lucy?' she said.

'Yes, darling, I do,' said her aunt; 'I gave that to your mother years ago, before she left home. I remember I saved up my money a very long time that I might buy it.'

'My mother did love that locket so much,' said the child. 'She said she had promised you she would keep it as long as she lived; and I was to tell you she had kept her promise, and had hidden it away, lest any one should take it from her. I have tried so hard to keep it safe since she died; but we have been in a great big lodging-house all the winter, and I was so afraid it would be found and taken from me.'

'Where is your father now, Rosalie?' asked her aunt anxiously.

'He's dead,' said the child; 'he has been dead more than a week.' And she told of the accident, and the death in the hospital.

'Then you are my little girl now, Rosalie,' said her Aunt Lucy--'my own little girl, and no one can take you from me.'

'Oh, dear Aunt Lucy, may I really stay?'

'Why, Rosalie darling, I have been looking for you everywhere, and my only fear was that your father would not want to part with you. But now, before we talk any more, you must come in and see your uncle; he is very anxious to see you.'

Rosalie felt rather afraid again when her aunt said this, but she rose up to follow her into the house. And then she remembered the little kitten, which she covered with her shawl, and which was lying fast asleep under it in a corner of the arbour.

'Please, Aunt Lucy,' said Rosalie timidly, 'is there a bird?'

'Where, dear?' said Mrs. Leslie, looking round her. 'I don't see one.'

'No, not here in the garden,' explained Rosalie; 'I mean in your house.'

'No, there's no bird, dear child. What made you think there was one?'

'Oh, I'm so glad, so very, very glad!' said Rosalie, with tears in her eyes. 'Then, may I bring her?'

'Bring who, Rosalie dear? I don't understand.'

'Oh, Aunt Lucy,' said the child, 'don't be angry. I have a little kit here under my shawl. She's the dearest little kit; and we love each other so much, and if she had to go away from me I think she would die. She loved me when no one else in the lodging-house did, except Betsey Ann; and if only she may come, I'll never let her go in any of the best rooms, and I won't let her be any trouble.' When she had said this, she lifted up the shawl, and brought out the black kitten, and looked up beseechingly into her aunt's face.

'What a dear little kitten!' said her aunt. 'May will be pleased with it, she is so fond of kittens; and only the other day I promised her I would get one. Bring her in, and she shall have some milk.'

A great load was lifted off little Rosalie's heart when Mrs. Leslie said this, for it would have been a very great trial to her to part from her little friend.

Rosalie's uncle received her very kindly, and said, with a pleasant smile, that he was glad the little prairie flower had been found at last, and was to blossom in his garden. Then she went upstairs with her Aunt Lucy to get ready for dinner. She thought she had never seen such a beautiful room as Mrs. Leslie's bedroom. The windows looked out over the fields and trees to the blue hills beyond.

Then her aunt went to a wardrobe which stood at one end of the room, and brought out a parcel, which she opened, and inside Rosalie saw a beautiful little black dress very neatly and prettily made.