“Sure!” growled Allison huskily. “You pray out, Cloudy. We’d like it.”
“Yes,” whispered Leslie, nestling her hand in her aunt’s.
And so, trembling, half fearful, her heart in her throat, but bravely, Julia Cloud knelt with a child on either side, hiding wondering, embarrassed, but loyal faces.
There was a tense silence while Julia Cloud struggled for words to break through her unwilling lips, and then quite softly she breathed:
“O dear Christ, come and dwell in this home, and bless it. Help us to live to please Thee. Help me to be a wise guide to these dear children–––”
She paused, her voice suddenly giving way with a nervous choke in her throat, and two young hands instantly squeezed her hands in sympathy.
Then a gruff young voice burst out on one side,
“Help me to be good, and not hurt her or make it hard for her.”
And Leslie gasped out, “And me, too, dear God!”