For some time she stood there, unflinchingly giving herself to the torture of this contemplation of her ruined loveliness; drinking to its bitter dregs the sorrowful cup of her secret memories; until, as though she could bear no more, she drew back--her eyes wide with pain and horror, her marred features twisted grotesquely in an agony of mental suffering.

With a pitiful moan she sank upon her knees in prayer.
In the earnestness of her spirit--out of the deep devotion of her love--as she prayed God for wisdom to guide the girl entrusted to her care, she spoke aloud.

"Let me not rob her, dear Christ, of love; but help me to help her love aright.

Help me, that in my fear for her I do not turn her heart against her mate when he shall come.

Help me, that I do not so fill her pure mind with doubt and distrust of all men that she will look for evil, only.