Not long after the war, Naaman was attacked with a disease so dreadful and repulsive that I cannot describe it to you.  Let us be thankful that leprosy is unknown here.  It is not only incurable, but as it goes on it becomes so terrible that one cannot stay at home with his family, but must go out and live alone, or with other lepers, and wait for death, which often does not happen for years.  It was a sad time for the great Naaman when he discovered that it had seized him.  He felt well and strong, but the fearful signs made it sure.  It was a sadder time when he told his wife; for both knew that the day would soon come when they could no longer stay together at home, and that he must leave beautiful Damascus, and give up his place in the army, and go off into the mountains and live alone, or with others like himself.  The saddest feature of all was that there was no hope:  all this was sure to take place.  If you have ever been in a house where some one is very ill and likely to die, or some terrible accident has occurred, you have felt what a gloom overhangs it, and have been glad to escape from it and get out under the open sky.  But our little Hebrew girl could not escape.  She must stay through it all, and wait on Naaman’s wife, and see her weep and Naaman’s strong face grow sadder every day.  Now I think we shall begin to see what a rare, noble, sweet child this was that we are talking about.  What a pity that we do not know her name—­for she is a nameless child!  I would like to call her Anna if I had any right to leave off the H that the Hebrews put before and after this beautiful name.  And I should not change it by turning the a at the close into ie, as so many young people—­and older ones, too, who ought to know better—­are in the habit of doing; for I never could understand why girls with so noble names as Anna and Mary and Helen and Margaret and Caroline should change them into the weak and silly forms that we hear every day.  This change, which usually shortens the name and ends it with an ie, is called a diminutive, which, according to Worcester, means “a thing little of its kind,” and so may well enough be used in the nursery; but that grown women should use it seems to me foolish and even ignoble, and I often fear it may indicate a lack of fine sentiment.  We do not know the name of our little maiden, but we can safely imagine her appearance for two reasons:  we know her circumstances and her character.  Is it not quite sure that when Naaman selected from his captives a little girl to wait on his wife, he would take the most beautiful one?  When we make presents to those we love, we always get the best we can.  Now we can go a step further, and ask what made her beautiful in such a way that Naaman thought she would please his wife.  It must have been her sweet and amiable expression; and that came from her character, for nothing else can make beauty of this sort.  And so we picture her with black, wavy hair and soft,