"No, dear papa, _oh, no_!" she answered, earnestly; "thank you very much
for reading it; it has made me feel a great deal better."

"Why did you select those particular passages?" he asked, with some
curiosity.

"Because, papa, they are all about Jesus, and tell how meekly and
patiently he bore sorrow and suffering. Oh, papa, if I could only be
like him! I am not much like him, but it makes it easier to forgive and
to be patient, and kind, and gentle, when we read about him, how good he
was, and how he forgave his murderers."

"You are thinking of Arthur," he said. "_I_ shall find it very hard to
forgive him; can _you_ do so?"

"Yes, papa, I think I can. I have been praying for him, and have asked
God to help me to forgive and love him."

"He has treated you very badly; I know all about it now."

And then, in answer to her surprised, inquiring look, he proceeded to
give her an account of all that had taken place that evening in the
library and drawing-room.

"And he hates me, papa," she said, mournfully, the tears filling her
eyes; "why should he feel so? I have always tried to be kind to him."

"Yes, I know it," he replied, "you have often done him kindnesses, and
I know of no other cause for his enmity, unless it is that you have
sometimes been obliged to bear witness against him."