TOM's sleep was, however, troubled, and did not last very long. He awoke feeling restless and thirsty. He wished to call for some milk and water, but the room was so still that he fancied that Susan must be asleep, and if she were at all like Betsy, there would be no use in trying to awaken her. The candle had been put out, only the tiny night-light was gleaming, casting long black shadows from curtains and bed-posts upon the nursery wall. Nothing was heard but the ticking of the clock, and to the nervous ear of the boy it seemed to tick strangely loud. Conscience was awake in Tom's heart, and in the stillness of night, its voice was louder than usual. The child softly drew back the curtain of his crib, and looked towards the corner where he supposed that the young nurse was lying asleep. He saw Susan kneeling before a chair, her head bowed down on her clasped hands; in the quiet hour, when she believed that her charges were slumbering, she was pouring out her heart to her God. The boy watched, but did not dare to disturb her. Even he, young as he was, could feel that real prayer made that room a more holy place. Susan was speaking to One who could hear, to One who was near; the answer to the young servant's prayers was already seen in her life. When Susan arose from her knees, Tom softly called her by her name. In a moment, the nursery-maid was by the side of her charge. "Did you want anything that I can give you?" she gently inquired. "Were you praying for me?" asked Tom, in a low and earnest tone. "Yes; I should not be easy about the children under my care, unless I often prayed for them," the nursery-maid replied. "I am afraid that you went to sleep without asking a blessing for yourself, and so there was all the more need that I should ask it for you." To Susan's great surprise, the child's arms were suddenly thrown round her neck, and in the voice of one struggling against a sob, he exclaimed, "Oh! Susan, I'm sorry—so sorry that I hurt you so much!" His rough little head was on her shoulder, and her dress was wet with his tears. Gently and tenderly Susan forgave, and tried to soothe the boy. She did not, however, as in mistaken kindness some might have done, tell him that his fault was nothing, that he need not trouble himself about it. But she assured him how freely and gladly she forgave it, and told him to seek forgiveness from God, and ask from Him that grace by which alone he could conquer his temper in future. Susan then brought milk and water to relieve the feverish thirst of her charge, beat up his pillow, and made him as comfortable as it was in her power to make him. Tom was in a nervous excited state, and wished Susan to stay by his bedside. "I feel so hot and restless," he despairingly said, "I never shall get to sleep." "Shall we pray the Lord to give you sweet sleep?" asked Susan. Tom looked at her in surprise. "Can we pray about things like that?" he inquired.