She was staring at him; and he stared at her. She could not have been more than ten years old, and wore a nightgown trimmed with lace. She had bright yellow hair, and her finger was upon the button which controlled the lights. For fully a minute neither of them moved. Then Samuel heard a voice whispering: “Are you a burglar?” He could not speak, but he nodded his head. And then again he heard the child's voice: “Oh, I'm so glad!” “I'm so glad!” she repeated again, and her tone was clear and sweet. “I'd been praying for it! But I'd almost given up hope!” Samuel found voice enough to gasp, “Why?” “My mamma read me a story,” said the child. “It was about a little girl who met a burglar. And ever since I've been waiting for one to come.” There was a pause. “Are you a really truly burglar?” the child whispered. “I--I think so,” replied Samuel. “You look very young,” she said. And the other bethought himself. “I'm only a beginner,” he said. “This is really my first time.” “Oh!” said the child with a faint touch of disappointment. “But still you will do, won't you?” “Do for what?” asked the boy in bewilderment. “You must let me reform you,” exclaimed the other. “That's what the little girl did in the story. Will you?” “Why--why, yes”--gasped Samuel. “I--I really meant to reform.” Then suddenly he thought he heard a sound in the hall above. He glanced up, and for one instant he had a glimpse of the face of Charlie peering down at him. “What are you looking at?” asked the child. “I thought--that is--there's some one with me,” stammered Samuel, forgetting his solemn vow. “Oh! two burglars!” cried the child in delight. “And may I reform him, too?” “I think you'd better begin with me,” said Samuel. “Will he go away, do you think?” “Yes--I think he's gone now.” “But you--you won't go yet, will you?” asked the child anxiously. “You'll stay and talk to me?” “If you wish”--gasped the boy. “You aren't afraid of me?” she asked. “Not of you,” said he. “But if some one else should waken.” “No, you needn't think of that. Mamma and grandma both lock their doors at night. And papa's away.” “Who sleeps there?” asked Samuel, pointing to the door he had been watching. “That's papa's room,” said the child; and the other gave a great gasp of relief. “Come,” said the little girl; and she seated herself in one of the big leather armchairs. “Now,” she continued, “tell me how you came to be a burglar.” “I had no money,” said Samuel, “and no work.” “Oh!” exclaimed the child; and then, “What is your work?” “I lived on a farm all my life,” said he. “My father died and then I wanted to go to the city. I was robbed of all my money, and I was here without any friends and I couldn't find anything to do at all. I was nearly starving.” “Why, how dreadful!” cried the other. “Why didn't you come to see papa?” “Your father?” said he. “I didn't want to beg--” “It wouldn't have been begging. He'd have been glad to help you.”