“Children, come here a moment, will you?”

The two had been very shy of Ester since the morning’s trials, and were at that moment sympathizing with each other in a manner uncomplimentary to her.  However, they slid down from their perch and slowly answered her call.

Ester glanced up as they entered the storeroom, and then went on cutting her cheese, but speaking in low, gentle tones: 

“I want to tell you two how sorry I am that I spoke so crossly and unkindly to you this morning.  It was very wrong in me.  I thought I never should displease Jesus so again, but I did, you see; and now I am very sorry indeed, and I want you to forgive me.”

Alfred looked aghast.  This was an Ester that he had never seen before, and he didn’t know what to say.  He wriggled the toes of his boots together, and looked down at them in puzzled wonder.  At last he faltered out: 

“I didn’t know your cheek ached till mother told me, or else I’d have shut the door right straight.  I’d ought to, any how, cheek or no cheek.”

This last in a lower tone, and more looking down at his boots.  It was new work for Alfred, this voluntarily owning himself in the wrong.

Julia burst forth eagerly.  “And I was very careless and naughty to keep putting my elbows on the table after you had told me not to, and I am ever so sorry that I made you such a lot of trouble.”

“Well, then,” said Ester, “we’ll all forgive each other, shall we, and begin over again?  And, children, I want you to understand that I am trying to please Jesus; and when I fail it is because of my own wicked heart, not because there is any need of it if I tried harder; and I want you to know how anxious I am that you should love this same Jesus now while you are young, and get him to help you.”

Their mother called the children at this moment, and Ester dismissed them each with a kiss.  There was a little rustle in the flour-room, and Sadie, whom nobody knew was down stairs, emerged therefrom with suspiciously red eyes but a laughing face, and approached her sister.

“Ester,” said she, “I’m positively afraid that you are growing into a saint, and I know that I’m a sinner.  I consider myself mistaken about the spasm—­it is evidently a settled disease.”

While the bell tolled for evening service Ester stood in the front doorway, and looked doubtfully up and down the damp pavements and muddy streets, and felt of her stiff cheek.  How much she seemed to need the rest and help of God’s house to-night; and yet—­

Julia’s little hand stole softly into hers.  “We’ve been talking about what you said you wanted us to do, Alfred and I have.  We’ve talked about it a good deal lately. We most wish so, too.”

Ere Ester could reply other than by an eager grasp of the small hand, Dr. Douglass came out.  His horses and carriage were in waiting.

“Miss Ried,” he said, pausing irresolutely with his foot on the carriage step, and finally turning back, “I am going to drive down to church this evening, as I have a call to make afterward.  Will you not ride down with me; it is unpleasant walking?”