Marian, as she thought of Jim, and his short life of eleven years, laughed. Meeting the blue eyes of her little companion at that moment, she wondered if Molly's smile was really less weak and vacant than usual, or if she was merely becoming accustomed to the expression. Although Mrs. Lethbridge had intimated that Molly was not right in her mind, the vicar's daughter had come to the conclusion that she had more understanding than she was accredited with. Slow and backward she undoubtedly was; shy at first with strangers, and reserved with other children. To teach her anything one had first to win her heart, and appeal to her affections, for all learning was laborious to her, and fraught with great difficulty. But she would do anything for one she loved, and for Marian Morris, Molly did her best. The vicar's daughter was often surprised to find how much the child was learning, and thus encouraged, she exerted herself still more to teach her. After the children had all gone to Sunday-school that same afternoon, and Mrs. Lethbridge had washed up the dinner things, she sat down by the open window to take a little rest. Opposite, her husband was asleep in his chair, and as her eyes rested on his face, she could not help noticing the marks that his drinking habits were leaving on his once good-looking countenance. For nearly an hour she sat thus, brooding over the difficulties of her life; but presently her thoughts turned to her children. They were such obedient, good children, and she had great hopes for them—even for little Molly! The dear child had improved so much of late! By-and-bye, James Lethbridge awoke, and looked surprised to see his wife seated quietly at the other side of the window. "Why, Jenny," he said, "it's not often I see you idle, even on a Sunday!" "I was thinking, James," she answered. "I wonder if you have noticed how our little maid has altered—and for the better, too! I think it's Miss Morris' doing; she's been doing her utmost to teach her, I know. I do think the child is sharper than she used to be." "Perhaps she is; but I haven't been noticing her much. You know I never would allow that she wasn't all right." "No, but you know she's not quite like other children of her age. Weren't you struck by what she said about the bells this morning? I was. It set me thinking, James, and looking back on our courting days, when we used to go to church regular." The husband made no response, only cast a surprised look at his wife. But at that moment Miss Morris was saying good-bye to Molly outside the door, and the brief conversation was at an end. Molly came in with glowing cheeks and shining eyes. She ran up to her mother, and kissed her pale, tired face. "Haven't you a kiss for your poor old father, too, Molly?" The little girl turned towards him, and, springing upon his knee, put her arms around his neck with a loving embrace. "And what have you been learning at Sunday-school to-day, my dear?" her mother enquired.