"I know that, papa, but I ought to kneel if I can; and if I may, I would
much rather try."

"No, I shall not allow you to do so; it would not be right," he replied
decidedly; "you may say them here, while I have you in my arms, or after
I have put you in bed."

"Then I will say them in my bed, papa," she answered submissively.

She was very patient and quiet while her father and nurse dressed her
ankle, and prepared her for bed, and when he had laid her in and covered
her up, he sat down beside her and listened to the low, murmured words of
her prayer.

"I think you prayed for me as well as for Arthur," he remarked when she
had done; "what did you request for me?"

"I asked, as I always do, that you might love Jesus, papa, and be very
happy, indeed, both in this world and the next."

"Thank you," he said, "but why are you so anxious that I should love him?
It would not trouble _me_ if _you_ did not, so long as you loved and
obeyed me."

A tear trickled down her cheek and fell upon the pillow as she answered,
in a half tremulous tone: "Because I know, papa, that no one can go to
heaven who does not love Jesus, nor ever be really happy anywhere, for
the Bible says so. Papa, you always punish me when I am disobedient to
you, and the Bible says God is our Father and will punish us if we do not