too. And nobody need go upstairs with me. I know the way. I remember it all. If—May I say my prayers by you, Uncle Joe? Mamma"—
One glance about the strange room, one thought of the absent mother, and the little girl's lip quivered. Then came a second thought, and she remembered her promise. She was never to cry again, if she could help it. By winking very fast and thinking about other things than mamma and home she would be able to help it.
Before he touched her shoulder to wake her, Mr. Smith had rung for Peter, who now stood waiting orders in the parting of the portière, and beheld a sight such as he had never dreamed to see in that great, lonely house: Josephine kneeling reverently beside his master's knee, saying aloud the Lord's Prayer and the familiar "Now I lay me."
Then she rose, flung her arms about the gentleman's neck, saw the moisture in his eyes, and asked in surprise:
"Do you feel bad, Uncle Joe? Aren't you
