It was a typical spring day.  The old house stood in the midst of its rhododendrons and azaleas; the red brick wall round the kitchen garden was almost hidden by the masses of pink and white bloom upon it; the orchard was a picture of beauty, whilst the flower-beds in front were masses of late bulbs and forget-me-nots.  The house itself was the same, and yet not the same.  It seemed as if it were waking up from a long sleep.  Every-one of the windows was open; the hall was filled with the scent of flowers, and, as the dock in it struck five, Lady Isobel came to the door, and shading her eyes with her hands looked out along the drive.  The sun was getting low, but it sent its slanting golden rays across her pretty blue gown.  Her face had lost much of its sadness, and her lips were parted in smiling expectancy now, for she had caught the sound of wheels.  In another moment a big dogcart swung up to the house, and the cheery voice of her husband called to her.

’Here they are safe and sound!  And Margot is following with the luggage cart.’

The next minute two pairs of childish arms were embracing her.

‘Oh Aunt Is’bel, we’re so glad to come!’

’And Bobby hasn’t cried a tear since dad went away, for we mean to be so happy.’

’That is splendid, my darling!  Come along in and see some changes we have made, and then Bobby shall take us to the nursery and tell us how he likes it, and whether he thinks Margot will be happy in it.’

Bobby looked about him with eager delighted eyes.  There was no question of his not noticing the changes.  He remarked on every one.

’You’ve got new stair carpets; the walls are papered quite different.  You’ve got flowers in the staircase window.  Oh, what pretty pictures!’

He was upstairs like lightning, none of the rooms appealed to him like his nursery.  The green baize door was there still, but when he came into his old domain he drew a long breath.  Pretty chintz curtains were in the windows.  There was a thick soft red carpet under foot, a bookcase with delightful looking story-books, a stand of flowers, a globe of goldfish, and several fresh pictures on the walls, which had been papered with pink roses to match the chintz.

‘It’s like a fairy book!’ said the delighted Bobby.  ’She waves her wand — the fairy, you know — and all the old things come new, and the ugly things come pretty!’

‘Lady Isobel is the fairy,’ said True.  She was looking about her with great curiosity.

‘I never have lived in quite such a big house,’ she said, as, after having seen the nursery, she followed Lady Isobel downstairs again, and they went in and out of all the rooms.

Bobby was still exclaiming as he went about.

’Look, True, those were the pictures which used to frown on me in the dining-room when I went in.  Me and Nobbles finked we heard them say, “Run away; you’ve no business here.”  But they seem quite smiling now, and what lovely flowers on the dinner-table!  There never used to be such pretty ones when I sawed them before.  And the blinds are up, and the sun is coming in, and, oh! do come to the libr’ry and see what it’s like now.  There, look, True! those horrid blind heads are nearly all gone; and it’s got a new carpet and pretty curtains and flowers.  Oh, it’s so ‘normously diff’rent!’

‘We are not going to have any gloomy rooms here if we can help it,’ said Lady Isobel smiling; ’and now come into the drawing-room.  You are going to have tea with us there for a treat.’

It looked quite a new room to Bobby.  All the furniture had been altered; magazines and books, work, and flowers gave the impression that it was a room to be lived in.  It seemed to reflect some of Lady Isobel’s sweet cheerfulness upon those who came inside it.

Bobby wandered round it, noting all the changes, and touching with reverent fingers many of Lady Isobel’s pretty knick-knacks.

’It looks like your pretty house that I sawed when I went to tea with you long ago,’ he said.

Lady Isobel nodded.

’I hoped you would like it, Bobby, darling.  Your uncle and I want to have a happy home, with plenty of sunshine in it.’

‘Will it be always summer?’ asked True reflectively.

‘Always in our hearts, I hope,’ answered Lady Isobel.

Bobby sat down in a low, cushioned seat and put on his thinking cap.  Past and present presented many pictures.  His uncle coming in noticed a gravity about his small face that he wished to remove.  He spoke to him with a twinkle in his eye.

‘Will you promise me not to put marbles in my boots to-morrow morning?’

Bobby started; then he chuckled.

’You finked it was Nobbles.  I needn’t hide from peoples now.  Me and Nobbles can walk over the house, where we likes.  Aunt Is’bel says so.’

‘Do you like coming back to the old house again, darling?’ asked Lady Isobel, for she had noted a certain wistfulness in Bobby’s gaze.

‘Yes,’ he said; ’but it’s a new house to me.  The old one has died with grandmother; and Jenkins has gone, and Jane.  Is Tom here?’

‘Yes, Tom is here still, and looking forward to see you so much.’

‘And the apple-tree is here,’ said Mr. Egerton.

Bobby’s eyes shone.

‘I’ll teach True how to sit on it and look over the wall,’ he said.

The children ran out to the garden directly their tea was finished.  Old Tom seized hold of Bobby by both hands.

‘Ay, the good old times are coming back to this house,’ he said.

‘I think these are new times,’ said Bobby.

’No, no.  I mind when the house were full of children’s voices and laughter before the old master died.  There’s a stir that does my heart good, Master Bobby; and the master be right down hearty with all on us.  He be the proper man to be here, sure enough!’

True’s delight at exploring the gardens and climbing into the apple-tree infected Bobby.

‘I never had no one to play with before,’ he said.  ’Me and Nobbles used to make up plenty, but we wanted someone else to do it.’

He showed her all his old haunts with the greatest pride, then, tired out with their journey and excitement, they returned to the house and willingly went to bed.  Lady Isobel paid Bobby a visit the last thing at night.

‘I hope you will be happy, darling, here.’

Bobby clasped both arms round her neck.

’Me and Nobbles have been talking about it.  We did feel a little funny when we comed in.  I was so ’fraid in this house before, but it’s all quite, quite different!’

’I hope it is.  I don’t want you to feel that you have to creep about on tiptoe and keep out of sight.  I shall like to hear your steps and voices all over the house.  Isn’t it strange, Bobby, that you and I should be here together?  How little we thought it would come to pass!’

‘I was always looking out for father,’ said Bobby slowly.  ’I shan’t be able to do that now, acause I knows he won’t be back for free years.’

’No; but you can be learning lessons as fast as you can so as to be getting ready for the time when you will be with him again.  And then you’ll have to write him letters, Bobby, and he will write to you.  That you could never do before!’

’No.  That will be lovelly!  And please Aunt Is’bel, may I ask you about Curly?  He was so dreadful sorry to say good-bye, for Miss Robsart teached him on Sunday, and we talked to him always when he was on his crossing.  Me and Nobbles is ’ticularly fond of him, and True says he could work in the garden here.  You would like him; he has curly hair, and he can whistle any tune you ask for, and — and — he’s very mis’able we’ve all gone away from him.’

‘How did you come to know him?’ asked Lady Isobel with interest.  So Bobby plunged into the story of the rescue of Nobbles, and she listened to it with smiling sympathy.

’I must talk to Miss Robsart about him when she comes here.  Now go to sleep like a good boy, and to-morrow morning, if it is fine, you must come with me and see the dear little cottage that Miss Robsart is going to live in.’

So Bobby gave her a hug and kiss, and, clasping Nobbles in his arms, laid his head upon his pillow, murmuring: 

’Me and Nobbles is ’stremely glad to be in the house where we growed up in, and it’s much better than we ever especked!’

The nursery breakfast the next morning was a very cheery one.  Margot’s round smiling face was a picture.

‘Ah!’ she said, ’there’s a verse in the Bible about lines falling in pleasant places, and that is just what I feel like now.  I won’t deny I was getting a bit old for much housework, and as to that crowded dirty London, I only hope I shan’t ever set foot in it again!  And I won’t deny that a house, where every penny has not to be thought of, is a very pleasant place to live in!’

We’re going to see Miss Robsart’s little cottage after breakfast,’ said True.  ‘Will you come too, Margot?’

’Oh, no, I’m going to unpack you both, and settle your things in all the nice drawers and cupboards we have.  Dear heart!  I begin to think it was a good day that brought Master Bobby to us!’

A short time afterwards both children were walking with Lady Isobel down the road to see the cottage.  Bobby eagerly pointed out to them familiar landmarks.

’That’s where that horrid boy broke poor Nobbles!  And that’s our milkman’s house, and there’s the chestnut tree where I pick up chestnuts when they drop.’

Then Lady Isobel turned up a lane out of the high-road.  A little white gate stood in the quickset hedge, which Lady Isobel opened, and there, in a pretty rustic garden, was a white-washed cottage with a thatched roof and old-fashioned casement windows.  A jasmine and rose climbed over its porch.  The door was painted green, and everything looked fresh and clean.  Lady Isobel unlocked the door, and Bobby and True stepped in with exclamations of delight.  One sunny sitting-room on either side of the door, a tiny kitchen behind, and three bedrooms above, were all the rooms the cottage contained, but it had a sweet old kitchen garden behind, and three apple-trees were brightening the background with their snowy blossoms.  It was on a hill, and the view from the front looked over a lovely expanse of buttercup meadows, and the river beyond.

Bobby’s little face looked solemn for his years as he turned and faced his aunt.

’It’s a beautiful place.  Miss Robsart’s sister will be able to paint her trees again.  I fink, Aunt Is’bel, you’ll be filling us too full of happiness.’

‘There’s just one person more who ought to be here,’ said True.

’Yes, I’ve tolded ’bout him; and when Miss Robsart comes it will be talked about.  Then we shall all be, like Margot says, a happy fam’ly.’

‘A country happy family,’ said True.

Lady Isobel laughed merrily.

’Did you never see this cottage before, Bobby?  I believe your grandmother’s coachman lived here?’

‘He was a cross man,’ said Bobby promptly.  ’I never comed near him.  He said he couldn’t bear boys, and nurse wouldn’t take me to any cottages — grandmother said she wasn’t to.  I never comed up this lane once.’

Then they went back to the house, and Lady Isobel left them in the garden to play.  In the afternoon they drove into the town with her and helped to choose a pretty invalid couch for the eldest Miss Robsart.

‘I shall have it put in the window ready for her,’ Lady Isobel said.  ‘And she can lie on it and paint her pretty pictures, Bobby.’

The days that followed were delicious ones to the children; and in due time the Miss Robsarts came down with their pretty old furniture and took possession of the cottage.  The children were allowed to run backwards and forwards, and help with the move.  When they were thoroughly settled in, lessons began.  Lady Isobel had put aside a special room for the schoolroom; and though at first Bobby and True found it a little irksome to get into their regular hours of work again, they soon became reconciled to it.

Miss Robsart was as happy as the day was long, and as for her invalid sister, she could not express her thankfulness.  She broke down when Lady Isobel went to see her.

‘I never expected such bliss in this life,’ she said.  ’I don’t know what we have done for you to do all this for us.’

But the crowning joy to Bobby and True was when Lady Isobel told them that she was going to have Curly down, and let him help old Tom in the garden.

’If he likes it, and works well, we will keep him.  He is coming on a month’s trial, and he will live with Tom and his wife.’

’I’m afraid we shall soon have the whole of London swooping down upon us,’ said Mr. Egerton when he heard the news.

’How many more friends have you, Bobby?  For I see your aunt is going to grant you every desire of your heart.’

‘I haven’t any more friends,’ said Bobby gravely.  ’You don’t make many in London, but Curly ought to come, because he saved Nobbles’ life.’

‘I believe Nobbles is at the bottom of everything,’ said his uncle; and Bobby nodded, well pleased.

‘Yes, Nobbles is very erportant to me,’ he said; ’and if Curly hadn’t saved him, my heart would have broke!’

It was Sunday afternoon.  Lady Isobel was sitting in the drawing-room, and the children were by her side.

‘It makes me think of mother,’ said True, with a little choke in her voice.  ‘She always used to give us Sunday lessons.’

’I want to follow her teaching, darling.  I am going to keep this hour especially for you.  Now, what shall we talk about this first Sunday?  Would you like to choose a Bible story?’

True looked at Bobby.  He thought deeply for a minute, then he said: 

’May we look at the lovely Talian Bible?

’Yes.  Go to the library and bring it here.  True can help you to carry it.’

Away they ran, and soon returned with the precious Book, which they placed upon a small table by her side.  Then Bobby reverently and carefully turned over its pages till he came to the picture of the golden gates.  He and True hung over it with admiring eyes.

‘Talk to us about heaven,’ said Bobby, ’because mother is there, and we love it.’

Lady Isobel did so.  She read them verses of its beauty, of the white-robed throng who were singing the praises of the Lamb of God, of the tears that would be wiped away, and the darkness that would be made light, and of the happiness of all gathered there.

‘I would like Curly to hear about it,’ said Bobby with a sigh.

‘You must tell him about it, darling.’

‘I will say my tex’ to him, and make him learn it, and und’stand it.’

‘Does blessed mean happy?’ asked True.

‘Yes.’

’I didn’t think I’d ever be happy again when mother went away, but I feel a little better now.  Will you take us one day to see her grave, or is it too far?’

‘I think we must manage it one day, dear,’ said Lady Isobel drawing the little motherless girl near her.  ’We might go by train a part of the way.’

‘I would like to see her grave very much,’ said Bobby, ’because father went to put my tex’ upon it.  He liked my tex’ very much.’

‘I think we all like it, Bobby.’

‘I wonder which is God’s favourite text in the Bible,’ said True.

Lady Isobel was silent; the children sometimes puzzled her.

‘God never makes any faverits,’ said Bobby.  ’My old nurse telled me that once.  He loves ev’rybodies and all alike, doesn’t he, Aunt Is’bel?’

Then without waiting for her to reply he proceeded: 

’I try to love ev’rybodies alike, but I love God first, and then my father.’

‘And who next?’ asked True curiously.

‘I finks,’ said Bobby, hesitating, ’truthfully, I finks I loves Nobbles next best.’

‘I’m sure you oughtn’t to,’ said True; ‘he’s just a stick.’

Bobby shook his head.  ’I loves you, Aunt Is’bel, and Master Mortimer, and True, but Nobbles comed to me first, and I couldn’t stop loving him.  He’s a kind of part of me, you see, and ev’ryfing I does he does too.’

‘He’s only a stick,’ repeated True.

‘Who saved father’s life?’ said Bobby with sudden warmth.

‘Well,’ said True, slowly, ‘it was you who put Nobbles on the ice.’

‘Yes,’ said Bobby, ’it was what I’d been longing and wanting to do, and I was always finking and finking how it could be done, and then all of a sudden it comed, and who saved father’s life?  Why, me and Nobbles.’

True was crushed.  Lady Isobel said softly: 

’Shall we repeat the text together, children, in this old Bible, and ask God to make us not only love it ourselves, but pass it on to those who do not know how they can have a right to enter in through the gates into the City?’

‘Are there many bodies that don’t know that?’ questioned Bobby.

’A great, great many.  Some who miss the happiness that God means them to have in this world by not knowing it.’

‘We must try and tell them,’ said Bobby earnestly.  ’It’s a pity if they don’t understand prop’ly.’

Then slowly and softly the children repeated their text after Lady Isobel: 

’Blessed are they that wash their robes in the blood of the Lamb, that they may have right to the tree of life, and enter in through the gates into the City.’