142 Tom Seven Years Old. i tl RR RN I A RR A so soon; but he said, ‘The Lord knows best’ —he did indeed—these were his own words.” She wiped her eyes again, but she did not seem comforted. Tom waited a minute. He was thinking of what else he could say. “And, Matty!” he cried, suddenly; “papa says that we shall all be called some day— every one of us—you too, Matty! Did you not know it, or did you forget? Then you'll see him—you're sure to see him. I don’t know when it will be, but it’s coming; and you could wait a little while, knowing it; couldn’t you, Matty ?” “ But it’s lonely-like now, Master Tom,” she broke out. Tom did not answer. He could not think of anything else to say. She was crying again. He stood looking at her. “Mamma must come!” cried he at last, in despair, moving to go. “I'll run and fetch her; she makes everybody happy.” “Don't,” said Matty, putting out her hand to prevent him; “stop, Master Tom, please. Thank you all the same; but I don’t want to