And she moved close to one of the older children as she spoke.  “Here is plenty of room.”

Mrs. Noland thought for a moment, and then told the waiter to call Henry back.  The child came in as quietly as he had gone out, and came up to his mother’s side.

“My dear,” said Mrs. Noland, “this good lady here has made room for you by her side.  You can go and sit by her.”

The child’s face brightened.  He went quickly and took the offered seat.  By the time tea was over, Henry had fallen asleep in his chair.  Mrs. Noland, when all arose from the table, took Henry in her arms, and went with him, accompanied by Mrs. Stanley, to her chamber, where she undressed him, and kissing fondly his bright young cheek, laid him in his little bed.

Mrs. Stanley stood for some moments over the sleeping child, and looked down upon his calm face.  As she did so, she remembered her own little Charley, and under what different circumstances and feelings he had been put to bed on the evening of Mrs. Noland’s visit to her.

Whether the contrast did her any good, we have no means of knowing.  We trust the lesson was not without its good effect upon her.

THE EVENING PRAYER.

“Our Father.”

“Our Father.”  The mother’s voice was low, and tender, and solemn.

“Our Father.”  On two sweet voices the words were borne upward.  It was the innocence of reverent childhood that gave them utterance.

“Who art in the heavens.”

“Who art in the heavens,” repeated the children, one with her eyes bent meekly down, and the other looking upward, as if she would penetrate the heavens into which her heart aspired.

“Hallowed be Thy name.”

Lower fell the voices of the little ones.  In a gentle murmur they said:  “Hallowed be Thy name.”

“Thy kingdom come.”

And the burden of the prayer was still taken up by the children—­“Thy kingdom come.”

“Thy will be done on earth, as it is done in heaven.”

Like a low, sweet echo from the land of angels—­“Thy will be done on earth, as it is done in heaven,” filled the chamber.

And the mother continued—­“Give us this day our daily bread.”

“Our daily bread” lingered a moment on the air, as the mother’s voice was hushed into silence.

“And forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors.”

The eyes of the children had drooped for a moment.  But they were uplifted again as they prayed—­“And forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors.”

“And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil.  For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever.  Amen.”

All these holy words were said, piously and fervently, by the little ones, as they knelt with clasped hands beside their mother.  Then, as their thoughts, uplifted on the wings of prayer to their heavenly Father, came back again and rested on their earthly parents, a warmer love came gushing from their hearts.