Kate kneeled down, as she always did, for the habit of prayer was too strong to be broken all at once. She felt ashamed and unhappy as she kneeled down, and she wished she could pray as her mother and teacher had often told her—pouring out her whole heart before God. Poor, foolish Kate, she had read often enough those words, "Be careful for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, let your requests be made known unto God;" and yet she was afraid to bring this trouble to Him.
Her thoughts were also running on her cousin's last words, and after she got into bed, she said again:
"I wish you would tell me how I can make it up to William—about that shilling, I mean; it will be such a long time for him to wait before I can pay it."
"I should think it would, if you mean to wait until you take your salary," said Marion, impatiently.
"Well, then, tell me what I can do besides. How do you make it up when they pay shillings for you?"
"Keep your eyes open, and you'll see for yourself some day. But you'd better shut them now and go to sleep, or you won't be able to keep them open at the right time," concluded Marion, as she turned round to put an end to the talk.
But after a minute or two, Kate said, "You might tell me when it is the right time to keep them open, Marion."
"Oh, don't bother; go to sleep. Haven't you heard 'there's tricks in every trade'?"
"I don't know; perhaps I have."
"Well, then, keep a sharp look-out, and you'll soon learn the tricks of ours." And Marion was soon fast asleep; but it was a long time before Kate could close her eyes, for conscience was at work again, urging her to tell her mother of her loss, and all that led to it. But Kate was afraid. She could not bear to forfeit her mother's good opinion, and make her anxious. She might even send for her to come home, and Kate did not like the idea of that at all. She was very comfortable in this "old-fashioned place," as everybody called it, and not at all inclined to go back to a quiet country life.