work. But I
will pray with you--let me hold your hand, and we will pray together."

Then and there in the dismal attic Father John spoke out his heart in
the following simple words. Even Sue never forgot those words to the
latest day she lived:

"Lord God Almighty, look down upon this dying woman. Thy Son died for
her and she knows it not. Lord, she is in great darkness, and she is so
near death that she has no time to learn the truth in its fullness; but
Thou who art in the light can show some of Thy light to her. Now, in her
dying hour, reveal to her Thyself."

The dying woman fixed her glittering eyes on the strange man. When he
ceased speaking she smiled; then she said, slowly:

"I allus felt that I could trust in Providence."

She never spoke after that, and half an hour afterwards she died.

This was the beginning of Father John's friendship with Giles and Sue.

The next day Sue, by dint of many and anxious inquiries, found him out,
and put her queer little unkempt head into his room.

"Ef yer please, parson, may I speak to yer 'bout Giles and me?"

"Certainly, my little girl. Sit down and tell me what I can do for you."

"Parson," said Sue, with much entreaty in her voice and many a pucker on
her brow, "what I wants to say is a good deal. I wants ter take care o'
Giles, to keep up the bit o' home and the bit o' victual. It 'ud kill
Giles ef he wor to be took to the work'us; and I promised mother as I'd
keep 'im. Mother wor allers a-trustin', and she trusted Giles ter me."

Here Sue's voice broke off into a sob, and she put up her dirty apron to
her eyes.

"Don't cry, my dear," answered Atkins kindly; "you must not break your
word to your mother. Will it cost you so much money to keep yourself and
Giles in that little attic?"

"It ain't that," said she, proudly. "It ain't a bit as I can't work, fur
I can, real smart at 'chinery needlework. I gets plenty to do, too, but
that 'ere landlady, she ain't a bit like mother; she'd trusten nobody,
and she up this morning, and mother scarce cold, and says as she'd not
let her room to Giles and me 'cept we could get some un to go security
fur the rent; and we has no un as 'ud go security, so we must go away
the day as mother is buried, and Giles must go to the work'us; and it
'ull kill Giles, and mother won't trust me no more."

"Don't think that, my child; nothing can shake your mother's trust where
God has taken her now. But do you want me to help you?"