and ye shall receive'."

"Perhaps you haven't prayed in the right spirit," Amabel suggested
with true piety. "Shall we--shall we try? Let us get out of bed
and kneel down."

"Get out of bed and kneel down yourself," was Alice's sympathetic
rejoinder. "You wouldn't take that much trouble for ME."

Amabel sat up on the edge of the bed. In the faint moonlight and
her white night-gown she was almost angelic. She held the end of
the long fair soft plait hanging over her shoulder and her eyes
were full of reproach.

"I think you ought to take SOME interest," she said plaintively.
"You know there would be more chances for you and the others--if
I were not here."

"I'll wait until you are not here," replied the unstirred Alice.

But Amabel felt there was no time for waiting in this particular
case. A yacht which "came in" might so soon "put out". She knelt
down, clasping her slim young hands and bending her forehead upon
them. In effect she implored that Divine Wisdom might guide Mr.
Robert Gareth-Lawless in the much desired path. She also made
divers promises because nothing is so easy as to promise things.
She ended with a gently fervent appeal that--if her prayer
were granted--something "might happen" which would result in her
becoming a Countess of Lawdor. One could not have put the request
with greater tentative delicacy.