For as the old woman read the Saviour's questions to her own heart, first her lip trembled, then her eyes dimmed with tears, and she had to take off her spectacles and wipe them before she could read any farther. At last, when she had reached the sixth verse, the poor old woman murmured to herself, "ungrateful sinner that I am!" and fairly burst into tears. "Oh! Granny, I never meant to write out anything to vex you, I never thought that hymn would make you cry!" exclaimed Annie, quite in distress. "Is it not enough to make me cry to think that my Lord has done all this for me, sinner that I am," sobbed old Janet, speaking not to Annie, but to herself, "to think that He should have given Himself for 'me,' suffered for 'me,' died for 'me,' and that all the return which I made is to doubt Him now! What proof of love could the dear Lord have given more than He gave! He kept back nothing, not even His life! And I—I have been finding fault with a poor lad for forgetting the little kindness which I have shown, the little trouble which I have taken, while all the while I was ungrateful to the Lord, who has done for me a thousand—thousand times more than ever woman did for a child!" The words of the beautiful verses had indeed gone straight to the heart of Janet, and awoke in it sorrow and repentance, but other feelings besides. Janet felt love, grateful love to Him who had first loved her; and with love came peace, and hope, and trust, for He who had done so much for her soul would, as she now felt sure, never, never forsake her. Annie scarcely knew whether to be glad or sorry that she had written out the hymn. But she had soon something else to take up her attention. "Why, Granny, here's the postman coming again," cried out the child in surprise; for to have letters two days running was a thing which had never happened before to old Janet. Annie ran to the door to take in the letter, and returned with a face beaming with joy. "It's Joe's hand—he has written again," she cried, as she gave the note to her Granny. Janet had her spectacles on, and she opened the letter herself, but as she did so, a little paper dropped fluttering to the floor. Annie picked it up, and almost screamed with delight as she saw "three pounds" written on a post-office order. Janet clasped her wrinkled hands and softly exclaimed, "Thank God!" then with a trembling voice read aloud the following letter. "Dear Granny, I had not enough money yesterday to get you clear out of trouble, and did not like to do more than let you know that I had got your note, till I should find how much my watch would sell for. I am pleased now to send £3; it is more than you will need for the rent, but I want you to have a real good dinner on New Year's day,—and please, with the rest of the money, buy a nice warm cloak for Annie, from me." Annie kissed her brother's letter again and again; her heart was full of love and joy.