"Like Dr. Braithwaite? Oh, me!" said Lucy, parenthetically. "No; not like Parson Braithwaite, my dear. Why, I couldn't even follow Parson, he said such hard words." "I never tried," said Lucy, calmly. "I'm too sleepy to talk any more. Good-night." And she composed herself on the pillow and closed her eyes. "You don't pray like Dr. Braithwaite, I am sure, Cicely," said Celia. "But how do you pray?" "Well, my dear, the prayers my mother taught me, there was three on 'em--the 'Our Father,' and the 'I Believe,' and 'Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.' I says the 'Our Father' yet, and 'I Believe' now and then; but I've left off to say Matthew and them, for when I comes to think, it sounds like the Papishes; and I don't see no prayers like it in the Book neither. I mostly prays out of the Book now, just the words that David did, and Moses, and the like of they; unless I wants somewhat very particular, and then I asks for it quite simple like, just as I'd ask you for a drink of water if I couldn't get it for myself." Celia lay silent and thoughtful, but "Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John," roused Lucy in a minute. "What's that about Matthew, Cicely?" "Well, my dear, I'm not sure that 'tis more than foolishness. But my mother taught it me, and I used to say it a many years: 'Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, Bless the bed I lie upon; Four parts around my bed, Four angels guard my head. I lay me down upon my side, I pray that God my soul may guide; And if I die before I wake, I pray that God my soul may take.'"[2] "O Cicely!" exclaimed Lucy, laughing. "It does sound rather like praying to the apostles, Cicely," suggested Celia; "but the end of it is better." "That's where it is, Mrs. Celia; and that's why I dropped it. Now don't you begin talking to-night--go to sleep, there's dears. There'll be as many hours in to-morrow as to-day. Eh! but, my dear, did you ask Madam, as I said?" "Yes, Cicely," said Celia, half-rising. "She will tell me to-morrow." The troubled look in old Cicely's face deepened. But she only said, as she took up the light, "Go to sleep, dear hearts!" "I ask your pardon, Madam!" said Cicely, courtesying low, as Madam Passmore opened her bedroom-door in answer to her tap. "But could I have a minute's speech with you, if you please?" "Come in, Cicely, and sit down. Is anything the matter?"