ir.

"Yes, dear child; there is one thing you can do," Elsie answered, weeping
with her.

"What, what is that?" asked Molly, half incredulously, half hopefully,
"what can I do chained here?"

"Pray for her, Molly, plead for her with him unto whom belong the issues
from death; to him who has all power in heaven and in earth and who is
able to save to the uttermost."

"No, no, even that I can't do," sobbed Molly, "I've never learned to pray,
and he isn't my friend as he is yours and your children's!"

"Then first of all make him your friend; oh, he is so kind and merciful
and loving. He says, 'Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden,
and I will give you rest.' 'Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast
out.'"

"Oh, if I only knew how!" sighed Molly, "nobody needs such a friend more
than I. I'd give all the world to have him for mine."

"But you cannot buy his friendship--his salvation; it is 'without money
and without price.' What is it to come to him? Just to take him at his
word, give yourself to him and believe his promise that he will not cast
you out."

There was a tap at the door and Rosie came in, put her arms round Molly,
kissed her and wept with her.

Then young Horace followed and after that his father. Both seemed to feel
very much for Molly and to be anxious to do everything in their power to
help and comfort her.

Mr. Dinsmore was evidently in deep grief and soon withdrew, Elsie going
with him. They stood together for a few minute in the hall.

"My dear father, how I feel for you!" Elsie said, laying her hand on his
arm and looking up at him through gathering tears.

"Thank you, my child; your sympathy is always very sweet to me," he said.
"And you have mine; for I know this trial touches you also though somewhat
less nearly than myself."

"Is grandpa suffering much?" she asked.

"Very much; and at his age--but I will not anticipate sorrow; we know that
the event is in the hands of him who doeth all things well. Ah, if he were
only a Christian! And Enna! poor Enna!"

Sobs and cries coming from the nursery broke in upon the momentary silence
that followed the exclamation.

"Poor little Bob and Betty, I must go to them," Elsie said, gliding away
in the direction of the sounds, while Mr. Dinsmore returned to the room
where his father lay groaning with the pain of his wounds. Mr. Travilla,
Calhoun and the doctor were with him, but he was asking for his son.

"Horace," he said