"I've no time to spare, and it's so difficult to make her understand, and she asks such questions! Of course, I make her say her prayers every night." Molly was still standing by the cradle, rocking it gently. Marian spoke to her— "Molly, will you come here, dear?" The child moved to her side, and stood looking up into her face, expectantly. "You love baby very much, do you not, Molly?" A nod in response. "And who else do you love?" "Father," after a moment's anxious thought. "Anyone else, my dear?" "Mother and the boys," the blue eyes glancing at the figure at the table busily plying the iron. "There is someone else surely, Molly?" "You, miss." Marian bent down, and impulsively kissed the little upturned face as she whispered— "Don't you love Jesus, darling? Don't you?" "No, miss." "She doesn't understand," Mrs. Lethbridge put in hastily. "I see she does not, but I think one could teach her. Will you let her come to Sunday-school, Mrs. Lethbridge, if I manage to take her in my class? I will call for her every Sunday." "Oh, miss, how truly good of you to think of it! I should be that glad." Mrs. Lethbridge put down her iron, and, sinking into a chair, burst into tears. Marian went to her side, and laid her hand sympathetically on the poor woman's heaving shoulder. "What is it?" she asked, gently. "I fear something is wrong. I think it helps one to bear a trouble if one can speak of it, and perhaps I could assist you in some way." "I am very foolish," Mrs. Lethbridge said, as she hastily dried her eyes, "but I have a lot to try me, and a deal to put up with. I know I've not taught Molly all she ought to know; but after she was born, things went very wrong with us. My husband took to drink, and neglected his home for bad companions; and that has made me feel wicked and bitter; and many has been the time that I've thought God has forsaken us!" "Oh, dear," Marian cried, "just when you want Him for your friend so much! You know, Jesus promised never to forsake His people!" "Yes, miss; but sometimes I haven't been able to think it." "It is God's own promise, Mrs. Lethbridge. If we ask Him, He will help us to bear our troubles; you must cast yours all on Him, for He careth for you." "When I hear you speak, miss, I seem to feel it is all true; but when you're gone and my husband returns the worse for drink, and swears at the children and me, maybe I shall doubt again. He is not a bad man when he's sober; but that isn't often towards the end of the day," she said bitterly. "You must ask God to show him his sin. Pray for him." "I don't believe it would be any good, miss." "Try," earnestly, "do try. Will you promise me?" "Yes, I will," in brighter tones. "And I'll call for Molly next Sunday. Please let her be ready by two o'clock." "Thank you, miss. I do feel very grateful to you for taking such an interest in her. Oh, here come the boys."