“We must dress first,” answered Laura.

Beth stamped her foot.  “I’m not going to wait to dress.  Besides, I don’t know where my things are.  Oh, why didn’t I mind mamma and put them away carefully.  Now they’ll burn.”

The more prudent Laura gathered up her clothes from a chair where she had laid them, and led the way into the hall.  They found it pitch dark there.

Suddenly Laura stopped.  “Oh, Beth, I can’t let it burn.”

“What will burn, Laura?”

“My beautiful new Easter hat.  I must go for it.”

“Laura Corner, you must not go back for it.  We ourselves might burn while you were getting it.”

But Laura had thrust her clothes into Beth’s unwilling arms, and was off like a flash to rescue her Easter hat.  Beth did not know the way sufficiently well to go on by herself, and so, trembling, she awaited Laura’s return.

[Illustration:  Laura Corner in the treasured Easter hat.]

Laura was soon back, pressing the precious hat close to her side.  Such treatment was likely to do it great damage, but, in her excitement, Laura did not stop to think of this.

Down-stairs a light shone in the parlor.  Guided by its friendly beams, Laura led the way there.  No one was within.  The house was deserted but for the two trembling girls.

“Beth, God alone can help us,” and Laura’s face was almost as white as the Easter hat under her arm.

Beth’s lip trembled.  “He’s so far away.  I wish mamma were here.”

“Beth, God will hear us if we pray.  Get down on your knees beside me.”

“I’d rather run out into the street,” answered Beth, who always believed in action rather than words.

“You’re a wicked little girl.  My mamma says I must never go on the street without some grown-up person.  So get on your knees this minute.”

Beth meekly obeyed.  Laura folded her hands.  Beth imitated her.

“Begin,” said Laura.

“Begin what?” and Beth’s eyes were wide open from surprise; yes, and from fear, too.

“Why, to pray, of course.”

“I’m not going to.  You’re the one who wanted to.  Why don’t you begin yourself?”

“I can’t.  I’m too scared.  Go on, Beth, and pray.”

“I—­I don’t know what to say.  Would ‘Now I lay me down to sleep,’ do?”

“No, silly.  We’re not laying us down to sleep.  It’s a fire.  God’s to keep us from burning to death.  So pray.”

“I—­I’m not going to,” and Beth jumped to her feet.

Laura began crying:  “You’re very wicked, Beth Davenport, and we’ll burn to death, and it’ll all be your fault.”

“We won’t burn if you’ll come with me into the street.  I’m going anyway.”

“Why, children, what are you doing here?” asked Mrs. Corner, coming into the parlor.

Laura rushed to her mamma and threw her arms around her neck.