"Take off yer shoes and lay down thar," she drawled, throwing some ragged bedding on the floor, "an' doan yo' make no noise or Pete'll be up hyar and whoop yo' both." "Who's going to hear me say my prayers!" asked Mollie, her large eyes wide with astonishment. Maria paused and turned as she was about to depart. "Who larned yo' any pra'rs!" she asked, curious to know what "furriners" in the cities taught their children. "My Mama," replied Mollie, her lips quivering at the mention of the loved name. "She taught me lots of things. She told me about God and the little sparrows that he takes care of. She said God always looks after little children, but I reckon He lost sight of me somewhere to-day. I don't like this place. I want to go home." The voice of Maria's master sounded from below stairs. "Maria!" Peter shouted. "Leave them brats alone. Go fetch Ambrose. He's headin' fer the bog." Maria shuffled away. For a moment Mollie was inclined to weep. Stephen comforted her. "I know some prayers, too," he whispered. "If they are the same as yours we'll say them together." It was a sociable idea and appealed to Mollie at once. With attention wholly diverted from their forlorn surroundings the two motherless children seated themselves on the floor, removed their shoes and stockings, lay down on the ragged bedding and sleepily "matched prayers." "I can say 'Our Father'," whispered Mollie. "So can I," whispered Stephen in reply. Together they murmured the prayer. "I did know 'Mother dear, Oh, pray for me, and never cease thy care,' but the lady I lived with didn't know it, so I forgot it," said Stephen regretfully. "I don't know that one, but I know a song about an angel. It goes like this: 'Dear angel, ever at my side, how loving thou must be, to leave thy home in heaven to guard, a little child like me.'" Stephen's sub-conscious mind stirred a faint recollection of the past. "I've heard that before, but I can't remember where," he whispered cautiously, as voices sounded from the kitchen. "I reckon we'd better go to sleep before they find us awake. With that angel here we don't need to be afraid." "No," returned Mollie, "but my Mama said I must always ask God for anything I wanted, so I am going to ask Him to send somebody to take me home." She folded her tiny hands, closed her tired eyes and, while her soft lips murmured their pathetic appeal, drifted off into the land of dreams. Stephen, comforted by the thought of a guardian angel, was already asleep. CHAPTER III MARIA FINDS A COMPANION "Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord."--Ps. cxxvii, 3