"Oh, Toby," said the little girl, holding him very tight, "Toby! I'd
rather have a yard of rope myself than that you should suffer."
Toby looked as much as to say:
"Pooh, that's a trivial matter, don't let's think of it," and then
he licked her hands again.
Cecile began to wonder if it would not be better for them not to
wait for that letter from France. There was no saying, now that Aunt
Lydia was really proved to be a wicked woman, what she might do, if
they gave her time after the letter arrived. Would it not be best for
Cecile, Maurice, and Toby to set off at once on that mission into
France? Would it not be wisest, young as Cecile was, to begin the
great search for Lovedy without delay? The little girl thought she
had better secure her purse of money, and set off at once. But oh!
she was so ignorant, so ignorant, and so young. Should she, Maurice,
and Toby go east, west, north, or south? She had a journey before
her, and she did not know a step of the way.
"Oh, Toby," she said again to the watchful dog, "if only I had a
guide. I do want a guide so dreadfully. And there is a guide called
Jesus, and He loves everybody, and He guides people and little
children, and perhaps dogs like you, Toby, right across to the New
Jerusalem and the Celestial City. But I want Him to guide us into the
south of France. He's so kind He would take us into his arms when we
were tired and rest us. You and me, Toby, are strong, but Maurice is
only a baby.
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