been so cross on that day last summer when he, Patsy, had come
home and told of the young lady who had been so kind to him, the lady
who lived in the house on the hill. As a rule, every one was good to
Patsy. Even the children on the street, who quarrelled among themselves,
striking, reviling, pelting one another with stones, had, nothing but
kind words and smiles for Patsy. But that day last summer he had
wandered farther from home than usual and a crowd of rough boys had
stopped and commenced tormenting him, laughing at him, calling him
names, jeering at his deformity, and even pulling his hair and pinching
his ears. The child had tried to push past them, but they closed in on
him and it might have fared ill with Patsy but for the timely arrival on
the scene of the young lady from the house on the hill.

She quickly scattered the band of hoodlums and then walked with Patsy
until he was well on his way home and safe from further attack. She had
been kind to him, and made him promise to come and see her. That was how
he knew her name and where she lived. He had wanted to see her again and
had thought of her so often but David would not let him go.

Many a night, when the pain kept him from sleeping, he would while away
the long hours by thinking of the gentle, beautiful girl, and he never
said his prayers at night and morning, as mother had taught him, that he
did not add a petition for his "lovely lady." And to think that she was
his own cousin, his uncle's daughter; she lived in the house on the hill
and it was her house that David and those men were planning to rob. For
her sake as well as David's the deed must be prevented; her father must
not be robbed; David must not become a thief. Patsy had determined that
last night when he first heard them mention the scheme. If no one else
would stop them, he would, though he could not imagine how he was going
to do it. He had thought and thought until his head ached so that he
could hardly see, but no plan suggested itself to his mind. He prayed,
too, long and earnestly, for the priest at the Sunday-school told them
God would always answer little boys' prayers if what they asked for was
good for them. And was it not a good thing for which he was pleading?
Simply that he might find a way to keep his lady from being robbed and
save David from becoming a thief?

At last, the idea he wanted had come to him; he knew just what he must
do to secure his end. There was danger in the