od sees me, I think that both speak, Barbara."

"Then," said the girl, "I bless God more for that than for the saving of
my life. I pray daily for those to whom I owe much; but for you and my
father I say double prayers."

"Because you think we need them doubly?" inquired the Ranger, smiling.

"Even so; for since I have lain here, not being able to talk much with
that kind stranger, who has more than atoned for what she did by her
present goodness to me, I have had time for reflection; and--and--I have
prayed very much for you, Robin Hays."

"Perhaps," said the Ranger, (his strong and turbulent feelings
struggling painfully in his bosom,) "perhaps, Barbara, your prayers are
all you mean to give me?"

"Robin," replied the maiden, while a flush passed over her pale cheek,
"you are often unjust; but I forgive it: for you are abroad in the
world, which, I believe, makes people unkind. And yet I did not mean you
were unkind, Robin. Now do not turn away so strangely. I would give the
life that has been so lately restored to me, that your faith was as my
faith,--that your God was my God."

The Ranger fell on his knees by the side of the couch, and clasping his
hands energetically together, replied, not in a loud, but in a low,
earnest tone,--

"Barbara, teach me your faith, and I will learn it--learn any thing from
your lips: I will cast aside my waywardness--my nature shall be
changed--I will become gentle as a babe. And as to your God, I am no
heathen, Barbara, but an Englishman, and all so born know there is but
One to worship!"

"Ay, but One," replied the gentle and thoughtful girl; "yet a wild,
reckless temper like yours is ever verging to idolatry, to the formation
of many gods. Do you not worship Mammon when you risk body and soul to
procure ill-gotten gold?"

"Reformation is the work of time, and there will be time for it,
Barbara, when you are better. I will sit during the whole length of the
Sabbath-days, winter and summer all the same, from sunrise to sunset,
and listen to the word of God: I will not speak, I will not look except
to you, and you shall read to me from the beginning to the end, and
explain, and pray: and even on week-days I will hear it for one hour
each evening, from Monday till Saturday, week after week, till I
understand what you expound. Will not that improve me, Barbara?"

A smile, succeeded by an expression of much anxiety, passed over her
innocent countenance, and then she spoke.