"I've been very naughty to-day, haven't I?" she said, the tears welling up again to her eyes. "Do you think I shall ever be gentle and kind?" Her listener nodded his head, seeing she expected an answer. "Couldn't you ask Jesus to help me now?" she said in a minute or two. "Or else, perhaps, if you stay up stairs to-morrow morning, I shall scream again." And as she spoke, she slipped from his arms, and knelt down in front of a chair close by. She evidently expected him to follow her example, and, scarce knowing what he did, he knelt beside her. She waited some minutes, expecting to hear him pray for her, as the widow had done many times; but no sound, save a faint sob, broke the silence of the room. And so, putting her hands together, and raising her eyes, she slowly and reverently repeated her simple morning prayer, ending with "Our Father," and then the text, "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth." [Illustration: She knelt in front of a chair, and the doctor knelt beside her.] CHAPTER VI. REST FOR THE WEARY. WHEN Milly paused, a sob broke from the doctor's lips, and the little girl felt somewhat awed as she arose from her knees and saw her companion still kneeling. She knew not what a tide of recollections the unaccustomed posture and her simple words had awakened; that a tempest between principle and passion was raging in the doctor's heart; that once more he, who had so long been the slave of Satan and his own evil passions, was visited by the angel of mercy, who would fain lead him to look away from himself up to a higher power for strength to conquer. Nearly an hour passed before he arose from his knees, and Milly had begun to get frightened, and was about to leave the room. This action of hers, however, aroused him. "Don't go away," he said in a hoarse whisper. "You won't be afraid of me, will you?" She shook her head. "They used to be afraid of me—everybody," he said dreamily, as he took her on his knee again. "Who told you it was wrong to get angry?" he asked in a minute or two. "It says so in the Bible," answered Milly. "Jesus never got angry; and I want to be like Jesus." "I wish I had tried to conquer my temper when I was as young as you," he said. "If I had thought of what my mother had taught me—for she made me learn, 'Blessed are the meek,'—if I had thought of this, and asked God to make me meek and gentle, instead of being proud and passionate, I should have been a happy man now instead of a miserable one. "Everybody thinks I am rich, but, Milly, I had better be as poor as the boy who brought you here—Bob, the fisher-boy; I know he is gentle, kind and obedient. I know he enjoys many things; while I—I never enjoy anything. It's nothing but misery—misery—misery with me!" And he uttered the last words in a sort of wail, so that Milly felt distressed and puzzled too.