But Milly seemed determined to try the efficacy of kissing, and Bob stooped to let her try.
"Won't it go away?" she said, when she found the blood did not disappear.
"No, not for kissing," said Bob. "Milly hurt it, but Milly can't cure it."
The words seemed to make a deep impression upon the child, and she walked sadly towards the bed. "Milly naughty, and hurt Bob," she said, and, hiding her head in the bedclothes, she burst into tears.
The widow laid her hand on the fair, shining hair, and said gently, "Yes, Milly is naughty; she has a naughty, passionate temper, and that has made her hurt Bob."
"Take Milly's naughty temper away, please," said the little girl, lifting her tear-stained face from the coverlet.
The widow shook her head. "I can't do that for Milly," she said, "but Jesus can, and will, if she asks Him to do it for her."
It was not the first time the child had heard that name, but it was the first time He had ever been spoken of as being her Friend—willing to do anything for her. And her blue eyes opened more widely still, as the widow went on to tell of the love and gentleness of this Friend, and how he would listen to the prayers of even little children, and grant their requests.
Milly had already learned to kneel down and put her hands together in prayer, and she did so now, repeating the simple words she had been taught by the widow.
When she had done, Bob came and lifted her on the bed beside his mother.