But before he could speak, Milly slipped off his knee and hurried around to where the housekeeper stood. The tears were in her eyes, and her lips quivered as she said, "Please forgive me for going into a passion, will you? I'm very, very sorry, and, and—" But here her voice broke down, and bursting into tears, she ran back to the doctor's arms.
He was scarcely less moved than the child herself. "What made you do that, Milly?" he said, when she had somewhat recovered herself. "Why, I declare you are almost as passionate as—as I am."
The child looked up at him with a curious, inquiring gaze. "Do you get angry?" she said, in a tone of wonder.
He turned his head away. "Don't, don't ask me, child," he said impatiently. "I can't help it—I can't help it."
"No, I know; it's Jesus that helps us; ain't it?" said the little girl simply. "And I've been forgetting all about Him since I've been here. Will you teach me again? 'Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.' I want to be meek and gentle, like Jesus, but it is so hard, and I do forget so very often."
The doctor shook his head, simply because he did not know what to say, but listened with interest to the child's talk.
"I've been very naughty to-day, haven't I?" she said, the tears welling up again to her eyes. "Do you think I shall ever be gentle and kind?"
Her listener nodded his head, seeing she expected an answer.
"Couldn't you ask Jesus to help me now?" she said in a minute or two. "Or else, perhaps, if you stay up stairs to-morrow morning, I shall scream again."
And as she spoke, she slipped from his arms, and knelt down in front of a chair close by. She evidently expected him to follow her example, and, scarce knowing what he did, he knelt beside her.