Guy didn’t know very much about praying then, and so he did not respond, but he thought of Lucy Atherstone, whose life was one hymn of prayer and praise, and he wished she could know of Maddy, and join her petitions with those of the grandfather. Starting suddenly from his chair, he exclaimed, “I’m going down there. It will look queerly, too, to go alone. Ah, I have it! I’ll drive back to Aikenside for Jessie, who has talked so much of the girl that her lady mother, forgetting that she was once a teacher, is disgusted. Yes, I’ll take Jessie with me, but you must order it; you must say it is good for her to ride, and, Hal, give me some medicine for her, just to quiet Agnes, no matter what, provided it’s not strychnine.” Contrary to Guy’s expectations, Agnes did not refuse to let Jessie go for a ride, particularly as she had no suspicion where he intended taking her, and the little girl was soon seated by her brother’s side, chatting merrily of the different things they passed upon the road. But when Guy told her where they were going, and why they were going there, the tears came at once into her eyes, and hiding her face in Guy’s lap she sobbed bitterly. “I did like her so much that day,” she said, “and she looked so sorry, too. It’s terrible to die!” Then she plied Guy with questions concerning Maddy’s probable future. “Would she go to heaven, sure?” and When Guy answered at random, “Yes,” she asked, “How did he know? Had he heard that Maddy was that kind of good which lets folks in heaven? Because, Brother Guy,” and the little preacher nestled closely to the young man, fingering his coat buttons as she talked, “because, Brother Guy, folks can be good—that is, not do naughty things—and still God won’t love them unless they—I don’t know what, I wish I did.” Guy drew her nearer to him, but to that childish yearning for knowledge he could not respond, so he said: “Who taught you all this, little one?—not your mother, surely.” “No, not mamma, but Miriam, the waiting-maid we left in Boston. She told me about it, and taught me to pray different from mamma. Do you pray, Brother Guy?” The question startled the young man, who was glad his coachman spoke to him just then, asking if he should drive through Devonshire village, or go direct to Honedale by a shorter route.