214
THE NAVAL OFFICER.
"My dear, dear brother," said the affectionate girl, "answer me one question. Did you ever pray?"
My answer will pretty well explain to the reader the sort of religion mine was:—
"Why, Clara," said I, "to tell you the truth, though I may not exactly pray, as you call it, yet words are nothing. I feel grateful to the Almighty for his favours when he bestows them on me; and I believe a grateful heart is all he requires."
"Then, brother, how do you feel when he afflicts you?"
"That I have nothing to thank him for," answered I.
"Then, my dear Frank, that is not religion."
"May be so," said I; "but I am in no humour to feel otherwise, at present, so pray drop the subject."
She burst into tears. "This," said she, " is
