The old doctor, in experimenting moods, had sometimes compelled her to recline, and then watched to see her body spring erect the moment he released his hold.
"What a dreadful patient I should make!" she said contritely.

"I would chloroform you, miss," said he.
She sat thus for a long time; she had so much for which to thank God, though not with her lips, for how could they keep pace with her heart?
Her heart was very full; chiefly, I think, with the tears that rolled down unknown to her.
She thanked God, in the name of the little hunted girl who had not been taught how to pray, and so did it standing.

"I do so want to be good; oh, how sweet it would be to be good!" she had said in that long ago.

She had said it out loud when she was alone on the chance of His hearing, but she had not addressed Him by name because she was not sure that he was really called God.

She had not even known that you should end by saying "Amen," which Tommy afterwards told her is the most solemn part of it.
How sweet it would be to be good, but how much sweeter it is to be good! The woman that girl had grown into knew that she was good, and she thanked God for that.