"I am afraid they have only gone 'inside,'" said the dear child, regarding me wistfully. "I am afraid they will come out again by and by. You said, when I was ill the other day, that we might ask God to take our pains away, if He saw best. Why don't you ask Him to take your trouble away?" "Why, so I will!" I answered her. And I did put up a petition then and there for grace against anger and uncharitableness. I could not but think it was heard, for I grew more calm in spirit, and was able to think what I had better do. Betty was very sober all day, and at night, she added to her prayers, of her own accord, "Please take away Margaret's trouble, and make her happy again." The dear little loyal soul! I am sure of her love, at all events. It was a custom of my dear father's, when we did not have prayers in the church, after his voice began to fail, to say the Litany with his own family, every Wednesday and Friday; and I have kept up the custom of repeating the petitions on those days. As I did so that night, and especially at the prayer, "O God, Merciful Father," a wonderful quietness and peace seemed to come over me, and I felt like a grieved child hushed and quieted in its mother's arms. 'Twas as if an all but visible Presence filled and sanctified the room. When I had finished, I took up my Bible to read, as usual, and my eye lighted first on these words: "'If thy brother trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone. If he shall hear thee, then thou hast gained thy brother.'" "Surely," I thought, "this is the rule for me to follow. I will go at once to Lady Jemima, and lay the case before her fairly, and try to find out where the trouble lies." No sooner said than done. I knew Lady Jemima would be in her room and up, for she never goes to rest early. So I went and knocked at her door, and she bade me enter. I had not been in her room since her return, and I noticed some changes. She hath put a great crucifix over her reading-desk, and taken away the cushion and mats before it, as if she used to kneel on the bare boards; and she hath a fine picture of the Assumption, as they call it—assumption, indeed! 'Tis to be hoped the Blessed Virgin knows not the use made of her name. Lady Jemima was sitting reading by her table, and as she looked up and saw who it was at the door, she said, sharply enough: "Well, Mrs. Merton, what brings you hither at this time of night?" "I desire to see your Ladyship alone," I answered, "and I knew that I should find you so at this time, therefore I took the liberty to come." "Very well," said she, still very short. "What is your business? State it quickly, for I have no time to spend in idle talk." "I would fain know your Ladyship's interpretation of this text," I said, putting into her hands the Bible I had brought with me, and pointing to the text in St. Matthew, I had just read.