you?"

"O yes!" cried the child delightedly. "I won't wait for you to tell me.
I'll forgive you right now, before I know, and so will mamma. Mam' Sarah
says it makes you feel good all over to forgive people, 'sho' 'nuff.'"
Then, her tender heart touched by the appealing look in Colonel Marsden's
eyes, she added: "Mamma says we must have faith in people and not blame
'em, but believe that nearly everybody does the very best they can. And we
don't know, even when they do _wrong_, what makes 'em. You know, Papa,"
continued the little theologian gravely, "nobody ever does _exactly_ right
in this world."

When old Squire and Roberta returned home they found Aunt Betsy very sick,
and Mrs. Marsden entirely occupied at her bed-side. It was a great
disappointment to the child, she was so eager to bring father and mother
together, but Mrs. Marsden was firm.

"Your father does not need me, darling; but she does. And it is right
always to take up the duty that is nearest."

It was an anxious night; but when morning came the sick woman was better,
and resting easily. Soon after breakfast, as Mrs. Marsden and Roberta were
standing by the window in the sitting-room, and looking out at the yard,
bathed in light and sparkling with dew, an ambulance appeared in the
avenue. It stopped in front of the porch; two officers descended from it
and assisted a third one down the steps, then they supported him to the
door.

"It's papa," cried Roberta; "he is like me, he couldn't wait."