“We’ve neither of us been very good to-day, Nell. Miss Milly told us not to go far, nor to stay long, and I believe we’ve gone as far as we could, and I’m sure we’ve stayed a deal longer than we want to,—I have. Are you afraid now, Nell?”
“God takes care of us, always,” said little Nell, solemnly, still leaning on her branch and crossing her feet. “Comfort tells me that, and mother reminds me of it when she hears me say my prayers on going to bed.”
“Do you believe it? Does He see us now?” questioned her companion, raising himself on his elbow and gazing at her as she stood between him and the bright fire.
“I believe it,” was the reverent answer. “Dear Johnny, let us not forget our prayers to-night, if we stay up here.”
There was another long, long pause.
“Johnny?”
“Well, Nell.”
“I was wicked to you to-day. I was proud, and told you I didn’t know who Marm Lizy was, when you asked me. That wasn’t true, and now I’m sorry.”
“Well, who was she, Nell?”