"I asked God, and He has heard my prayers. She has learned to pray. That was not her first prayer. O my Saviour, help me to thank Thee as I ought."
When Dr. Danforth made his next visit, he found Mrs. Douglass bolstered up in bed, Hepsey, who had for a day or two supplied Marion's place, arranging her still abundant hair. They were engaged in animated conversation when he entered. He had become deeply interested in the strangers, having never forgotten the scenes of the night of his introduction to them. To no one had he ever mentioned the young mother's prayer, the burden of which was help for herself from some great danger, not for relief and returning health to her child.
"You are better," he said, cheerfully, after having counted her pulse.
"Yes, Doctor, I have had a restorative."
"Wine? I wish you had taken it sooner."
"No, Doctor. I have heard my daughter pray." The mother's face beamed with joy.
"What is so great a beautifier as happiness?" was the doctor's thought. "She looks ten years younger." He spoke seriously, but with the greatest tenderness, saying,—
"I have heard her pray, and I think her prayers have been answered. She has borne the trials of these sad weeks with a sweet submission and patience I have seldom seen surpassed."
"God has given her grace according to her day."
"Yes. He has indeed fulfilled His promise to the widow and orphan."