When they rose from their seats to kneel, Milly squatted awkwardly down in front of her chair, her chin resting on her hands. Her eyes were at first fixed on a beautiful painting of fruit which hung above her; but presently her attention was arrested by the petitions:
"Help us, Lord, to be kind to the poor orphan who has this day come to us. May she be docile and affectionate; and may we be patient and faithful. May we always bear in mind that she has not been so highly favored by Providence as we have been, and may we, both by precept and example, teach her that the ways of wisdom are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace."
When the prayer was finished, Milly stood still for a moment, while Emily, as usual, gathered the books and restored them to a shelf in the bookcase. Then, with a sudden impulse, the poor little stranger dashed to the side of her uncle, exclaiming:
"I like you. I thought at first I shouldn't; and I like to hear you talk to God as you did just now."
"Stop a minute, Milly," cried her uncle, as she was darting away. "I want to speak to you. Do you know," he added affectionately, taking her hand, "that your mother was my sister Ida, whom I dearly loved? For her sake, and for your own, too, I hope we shall do everything in our power to make you a useful and happy woman. But tell me, Milly, do you ever talk to God? Do you ask him to take care of you, and make you his child?"
"I did once, on board ship," returned Milly. "A man told me God made everything on sea and land; but I don't believe he made Juggernaut. It's such a horrid creature, and kills so many people under its great wheels."
Before Mr. Morgan could say any more, the child darted away.
[CHAPTER V.]
MILLY AT TABLE.
IT was not an easy task for Mrs. Morgan to tame this wild creature; but when her husband said, hopelessly: