Timothy couldn't help himself. He tiptoed to the open door very slowly, just to catch a glimpse of the new guest. The Carlyles were sitting in a beautiful breakfast room, flooded with morning light. Amelia, Preston, and their children were all sitting close together. And at the further end of the table, Arthur sat, staring absentmindedly into a cup of coffee.
Timothy was dying to know something about Gracie's important brother. But the young man was turned away from him, and the lad hardly caught a glimpse of the doctor's face.
"Preston, dear," Amelia began merrily, "do you not think the food at Netherstrand is some of the best you have tasted?"
"Indeed, I believe you are right!" Mr. Carlyle answered in high spirits. "The ham is excellent! Don't you agree, Arthur?"
The sound of his name roused the youth from a deep thought. "Forgive me, I did not hear the question," he admitted listlessly.
"The food served here at Netherstrand! Is it not the finest?"
Whether Arthur had planned on answering or not, Amelia spoke up instead. "Well, Preston, how could he know?" she asked. "He has hardly even touched his breakfast this morning! My dearest Arthur, this will not do! You have been in the doldrums for months now! It is high time you regained the joy of living!"
Absolute, dismal, hopeless silence was the only answer to her encouragement.
At last, the lady let out a defeated sigh. "Well, what am I to do? I cannot seem to impart to you the honest fact that life goes on after death! But then...I forgot," she added, sounding displeased. "You do not believe in life after death, do you?"
"'Believe' is a serious word, Aunt," Arthur answered quietly. "It takes a great deal of consideration."
"I don't find it so," Mrs. Carlyle stated. "Believing is something you do unquestioningly, just as everyone else has faithfully done before you! Our grandfathers were all Christians, and it ought to be a given fact that we are as well! Really, Arthur, I begin to feel very frightened for you. I am sure the preacher would agree that you are heaping judgment upon your own head."
Here Mr. Carlyle piped in with his most intimidating and judicial voice. "There will come a time when every soul will stand before the judgment seat of God."
Of course, those words were true, and there is a time and a way when the fear of judgment can work repentance inside of a heart. But there is also a time and a way when a harsh accusation spoken by hypocritical lips only makes the heart turn away in resistance.
Whether Arthur took his aunt and uncle's words to heart, or whether he heard them at all, he never offered a reply. Instead, he cast a glance around the room, and his brow suddenly clouded. "Where is Grace?" he asked.
"She woke early this morning," Amelia answered carelessly. "I suspect she is enjoying her solitude. That girl has never been very sociable. The silly thing would rather stay by herself reading a book than keep company with us. It is a character weakness of which I cannot for the life of me break her!"
Timothy couldn't stay any longer. He had an errand to run, and he had to hurry away. But, through all of his chores, the things which he had seen and heard kept tumbling around in his mind.
Gracie's brother don't seem like a very jolly chap, he noted. I wonder why that is? An' what was it they was sayin' about believin'? He was really at a loss to know. But he knew that it was troublesome and important. And somehow, he felt sure that it had something to do with the dismalness of Arthur's attitude.
Hours passed by and Gracie never did come to the breakfast table. Mr. and Mrs. Carlyle weren't worried at all. They had never kept a tight rein on the girl. As long as she was back in time to begin her lessons, they didn't seem to care where she went or how long she stayed away. But Timothy did, and as a whole hour slid by, he began to wonder about her.
I'll wager I know where she is, he thought. I bet she's a-sittin' in that nice cave Mr. Bently told her about.
He finished his task as fast as he could, and to his delight, he found out that he wasn't needed for an hour or two. As soon as he knew that he was free, he darted outside and ran down the sandy shore until he reached the cave's gaping entrance. Just as he had hoped, he saw Grace sitting all alone on a rocky ledge.
For a moment, Tim paused and gazed at his friend. She couldn't have looked any whiter. And her cheeks were wet with tears. Trying not to startle the girl, he cleared his throat and then put on his most cheerful smile. "'Ullo, Gracie!" he greeted. "I knew I'd find you 'ere!"
The girl's face softened with relief the minute she saw him. "Tim!" she cried. "Oh, Timothy, thank you for coming!" Her voice quavered as she ran forward and threw her arms around him. The little boy accepted her hug without question and without alarm. But he felt her shaking with silent sobs as she held him tight.
"What's'a matter, Gracie?" he asked, pulling away and turning his kind eyes toward her with pitying love. "Ain't ya feelin' 'appy?"
"No!" the girl cried, sinking down onto a nearby rock. "I am not happy! And I don't think I can ever be happy again! Oh, Timothy, it is all ruined! I had hoped so much that..." she stopped herself and stifled a sob in her hands. "But I shouldn't have hoped! Uncle Preston was right! I hoped too much, and now all my hope is gone!"
Tim sat down beside her, and once again, she held onto him as if he had been a rock to cling to in the middle of a wide ocean.
"Why's yer 'ope gone?" the lad asked, squeezing her tight.
"Because he doesn't love me! I don't even think he likes me! I am afraid he never wanted to come home at all!"
"Ya mean Arthur?"
Gracie answered with a nod and another sob. Finally, she pulled away from Timothy's embrace. Then, aching with discouraged love and terrible fear, she clasped her hands to her heart and looked into the darkness of the cavern.
"He is so cold," she breathed in a frightened whisper. "And yet he is such a perfect gentleman. Even his smile seems as if it is only a show. He does not feel it! And when he saw me for the first time, he looked so disappointed that I wanted to burst into tears right then! He doesn't want me! No one wants me! I can feel it! I am so alone!"
Timothy took a long minute to contemplate. He loved every human being so much that it was hard for him to think the worst of any of them. But, what did he know? From what he had heard and seen that morning, he could understand Gracie's wounded heart. Perhaps Arthur didn't want her. But that didn't daunt Timothy. To him, it only made the right path seem all the clearer.
"Gracie, you ain't alone," he said earnestly. "You'll never be alone."
The girl let out a disheartened sigh. "No. Of course I shall never really be alone. I know Auntie and Uncle will not throw me away. But they don't love me."
"D'ya wanna know who does love ya?" the little boy asked. "D'ya wanna know who wants you?"
Grace looked at him with sad, questioning eyes. "Who?" she asked.
"Jesus! Jesus'll always love you, Gracie! An' he wants you, now, forever, an' always!"
Grace listened in breathless interest. "He loves me?" she asked, hardly daring to hope that Timothy was right. "And he wants me?"
Tim laughed merrily. "Yes, Gracie, very much! Jesus wanted you so badly that he died t' save you so you could be his own! Are you his own, Grace? 'Ave ya given yerself to Jesus?"
The girl thought back on every Sunday she had ever spent in church. She had sat there week after week, hardly listening to the sermons. "I don't know!" she exclaimed at last. "But I want to! Oh, I want to so badly! Is it hard to give yourself to Jesus? And, when I try, do you think he will accept me?"
"'Course, he will! It ain't hard. D'ya wanna do it now?"
Gracie nodded her head eagerly, so they both bowed their heads and closed their eyes to pray. For a second, Grace waited for the faithful, little boy to say or do something. But he kept silent. Finally, they looked at each other questioningly.
"Go on," Tim urged. "Ain't ya gonna pray an' give yerself t' Jesus?"
"I...I don't know how!" the girl answered worriedly.
"Ask t' be his friend. Tell 'im all about yerself, an' tell 'im ya wants t' be good. Tell 'im you'll trust 'im, an' love 'im, an' that yer sorry for all the times you wasn't good. That's the sort o' fing I tells 'im."
The simple, honest plea made Grace's heart tremble as if it had been yearning for ages to whisper that prayer. A thrill ran through her as she bowed her head again. She wanted to say a beautiful prayer, like the rehearsed poem which she always repeated before bed. But she couldn't think of anything poetic to say right then. All she could do was pour out her heart in the simplest, truest words that came to her mind.
"Jesus, I'm lost, and I'm scared, and I'm so, so lonely! I don't have any hope anymore. And I don't feel as if anyone loves me. But you love me, Lord! I believe that you do! And when I think about you loving me, I love you back with all of my heart! Oh, Jesus, please make me your child. I want to give myself to you. I want to be yours, and I want to have your light! Please, can I be your friend? Oh, please want me, Jesus! Without you, all I can see is darkness. I have no hope without you! But please take the darkness away. I am sorry for all the naughty things I have done, and I want to do what is right from now on! Please, Jesus, make me your own!"
As she cried the last words in a trembling voice, something strange and marvelous happened; a still, quiet calm came to her. And suddenly, it felt as if a healing balm had been applied to her broken heart. Instead of darkness, she could feel the warmth and see the glow of a holy light in her soul. It was the light of eternal hope, the light of never-ending love. It didn't mean that she would never struggle again. It didn't mean that all of her troubles had vanished. Often, it seems as if our trials become harder just when we decide to submit ourselves to Christ. But those trials cannot break us as long as we trust in him. If we stay close to our Savior, the hardships of this life can only strengthen us and fashion us into the lovely people God wants us to be.
A noise in the distance broke the wonderful silence which had fallen around Grace and Timothy. The girl gave a start and a gasp. Somewhere, getting closer by the minute, she could hear her name being called.
"Oh, dear!" she cried worriedly. "It is my family! They have come looking for me!" She jumped up and ran to the cave's entrance, peeking out timidly. She felt her heart racing hard with new fear. "Will they be angry, do you think? Will I be in trouble?" There was only one way to find out.
Leaving Timothy behind, Gracie stepped out of her hiding place and walked forward. Her aunt and uncle weren't too far away. As soon as they saw her, they ran forward anxiously.
"Grace, you horrible child!" Amelia cried, pressing the girl to her heart. "How on earth could you play such a cruel trick upon us? When you went out this morning, I thought that you would be back in an hour or two. It has been four! You have caused us all a great deal of needless alarm! And your poor brother has walked for miles in the wrong direction searching for you! Oh, what must he think? He will surely think that you are more trouble than you are worth! Why can you not be more responsible and think of others instead of yourself?"
The woman took Grace by the arm and dragged her away toward the mansion. As the girl stumbled beside her, her heart shattered and bled once again. She felt even more frightened than before. Arthur must have been furious with her. He must have thought a dozen times or more that she was a horrible, difficult child.
Oh, why can I not I be good? Why can I not please him? she wondered sadly.
After a very long time, Arthur finally returned to Netherstrand, looking very tired and careworn.
"Put your mind at ease, dear," Amelia told him, casting Grace a chiding glance. "The silly truant has been recaptured. She wasn't in the slightest danger."
Gracie felt her brother's eyes upon her, but she didn't dare to meet his gaze. She had been traumatized by a terrifying half-hour of chaos. Her aunt had chided her almost incessantly, and Grace couldn't let go of her fears and regrets. Everyone had been so busy complaining about her misbehavior that they had forgotten to think of the girl's well-being. She still felt chilly from the outside air, and she was still wearing a dress that was slightly damp from the sea breeze.
At last, Gracie heard Arthur let out a long sigh and drop into a chair by the fire. "Grace, go and change your clothes into something dry," he commanded wearily. Those were the only words the girl would hear from him that day. She obeyed in sorrowful silence and soon found herself curled up by the warm fire in her own bedroom.
At last, in the still quiet of her chamber, she had time to think.
"Jesus is with me," she whispered to herself. "Jesus loves me! He won't leave me!" She repeated the words over and over until, slowly and surely, peace came once again.