In the most natural way possible the two knelt down and made their request of the invisible Master, whose presence in that room was always acknowledged. It was by no means the first time these two had done so. Jack was not at all surprised or confused. Prayer over, Nanna set about preparing tea, and Jack, still disconsolate, sat by the fire. His own share of the pain was forgotten, but he could not feel happy about his "mummy." He did not want her to know, and yet he longed to hear from her own dear lips that she did not mind. "You won't tell mummy, will you?" he pleaded before going to bed, and the promise was given. "Not till you say I may," said wise, far-seeing Nanna. The burden of having a secret from mummy was a heavy one, and Nanna felt sure it would not be long before it all came out, and that the loving little heart would only find peace in the mother's arms. Phebe that night went in as usual to give Jack his "good-night" kiss. He had cried himself to sleep. He had even laughed at supper-time, and forgotten all his sorrow, but in the darkness of the bedroom it had come back again with full force. The mother bent to kiss her boy--the face was damp--Jack had been crying! Nanna had said nothing about any trouble, yet she was always Jack's confidante. What could it be? She bent again to kiss him. Yes, it was quite damp--the pillow even was damp. Her sunny-faced, earnest, eager-hearted Jack, crying! The boy sighed in his sleep, tossed about, and then, the light of the lamp falling on his face, he woke up. "Oh, mummy! dear mummy!" The lamp was quickly put down, and in an instant the two were locked in each other's arms. "Jack, darling, you've been crying. You must tell me all about it." "But I can't--no--you are not to ask me." And then straightway he told her, though not in words. He smoothed her face, he examined her, then he hugged her, and whispered: "It is my _good_ mummy!" "Has somebody been telling you I'm not good?" "Did Nanna tell you?" he exclaimed. "Oh, dear, she promised she wouldn't!" "No, darling; Nanna did not tell me. She would not break her promise to you." "Then how did you know?" She could hardly explain. "I guessed it," she said. "I saw you had been crying. Who was it that was finding fault with me?" "Frank Bell; he's a new scholar." The name was not familiar. "See here, darling, you must never trouble about me. You know I do things differently from some mothers, and they think it is wrong, but I think it is God's wish; so it does not much matter. You understand?" "Yes." Then, after a pause: "And it has not anything to do with daddy not coming home?" There is a sisterhood of Mary found the wide world over--women who have felt the sword pierce the soul, and in that instant Phebe felt afresh what membership with that sisterhood meant. But her child, at all costs, must not know of it. "No, nothing at all," was her calm answer.