Susie looked shyly at her companions, who were, of course, looking at her, but not very shyly, for many of them looked as though they were used to a street life, and most of them were older than herself. What a treat it was to these poor girls to sit down in a warm, light room, Susie could only guess. To her it was very delightful—the mere sensation of light and warmth; and the only drawback to her enjoyment was the thought that poor Elfie was not sharing it.
She could join in singing the opening hymn; and then, when the books were given out, she found her place more quickly than the rest, and ventured to lift her eyes to the teacher's face for a minute, and then saw that the lady was looking at her.
"You have not been to the school before, have you, my dear?" she said in a gentle voice.
"No, ma'am," answered Susie.
"I hope we shall see you very often now. Can you come every Sunday?" said the lady.
"Yes, ma'am," replied Susie.
And then, the others having found their places, the reading commenced. The lady explained the meaning of each verse as they went on, but spoke more particularly of God's care for his children.
When school was over, and Susie met Elfie, she told her of the evening lesson, and how like it was to what she had heard in the morning; but Elfie answered, "I'm going to take care of myself now, and then perhaps God will do it for me by-and-by."
"I think we need God's care now," sighed Susie, thinking of the deficient store of halfpence in the tin box at home.
"Well, we don't get it," said Elfie defiantly; "and going to that school won't bring it neither. Don't go again, Susie," she added.