se gods have no power."

"Did you ever pray for anything you wanted very much?"

Cynthia's bright eyes studied the placid face before her.

"Yes," the lips murmured faintly.

"And did you get it?"

A flush stole over the puzzled countenance.

"My dear, God doesn't see as we do. And He knows what is best for us,
and gives us that. Maybe our prayer wasn't right."

"How can you tell when a prayer is right or wrong?" inquired the young
theologian.

"Why, you have to leave that to God;" in a low, resigned tone.

"I didn't want to come here. I wanted to stay with father. I didn't know
there was any one beside, and I do not believe any one will ever love me
so well. But he promised to come when the business was all done. So I
prayed to the God of father's Bible, and I went to the temple with Nalla
and put down a half-crown--it was all the money I had. But"--her eyes
filled with tears and her voice had a break in it--"father begged so,
and I came. But if Captain Corwin does not bring him next time I shall
go back. I can't live without him."

The mild blue eyes of Miss Eunice filled with tears as well. She was not
sure this had been the wisest course. The absolute truth was always
best. But she temporized also in a vague fashion.

"Yes; you can tell then. And you may come to like us so well you may
stay content."

"Oh, if he comes! Then it will be all right. And you think I ought to
pray for that?"

It was a cruel strait for Miss Eunice and staggered her faith. She was
not to lead astray or harm "one of the least of these." But the child
_was_ a heathen with no real knowledge of the true God. Like a vision
almost, Miss Eunice looked back at her own childhood, and the awful,
overshadowing power she believed was God, who wrote down every wicked
thought and wrong deed, and would confront her with them at the Judgment
Day. She prayed nightly, often in the night, when she woke up, and she
was no surer of God's love than this little heathen child.

"It is right to pray for the things we want, but to be resigned if God
doesn't see fit to give them to us."

"Then the prayers are thrown away. And do you know just what God is?"

"My dear!" in a shocked tone, "no one can tell. It is one of the
mysteries to be revealed when we see Him as He truly is at the last day.
A little girl cannot understand it. I do not, and I have sought the
truth many years. Now I am trusting, because I feel assured He will do
what is right. Tel