"'Yes. Don't the hymn say so? Jesus loves even me!'"

"'Oh! but I suppose 'tis because you're very, _very_ good,
little English girl,' I said.

"But the English girl said, 'No, that wasn't a bit of it. She wasn't
good, though she did try to be. But Jesus loved everybody, whether
they were good or not, ef only they'd believe it.'

"That's all she told me, stepmother; but she just said one thing
more, 'Oh, what a comfort to think Jesus loves one when one remembers
about dying.'"

While Cecile was telling her little tale, Mrs. D'Albert had closed
her eyes; now she opened them.

"Are you sure that is all you know, child, just 'Jesus loves
everybody?' It do seem nice to hear that. Cecile, could you jest say
a bit of a prayer?"

"I can only say, 'Our Father,'" answered Cecile.

"Well, then, go on your knees and say it earnest; say it werry
earnest, Cecile."

Cecile did so, and when her voice had ceased, Mrs. D'Albert opened
her eyes, clasped her hands together, and spoke:

"Jesus," she said, "Lord Jesus, I'm dreadful, bitter sorry as I