Please Lord Jesus, help me to know if I ought to tell mamma." A text--one of the many she had learned to recite to her mother in that precious morning half hour--came to her mind as she rose from her knees.
"He that covereth his sins shall not prosper: but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy." "I didn't cover them;" she said to herself, "I told God: but then God knew all about it before; he sees and knows everything; but mamma doesn't know.

Perhaps it means I musn't cover them from her.

I think Jesus did tell me." Wiping away her tears she went back into the drawing-room.

The gentlemen were just leaving it, her father among the rest.

A sudden resolution seized her and she ran after them.
"Papa!" He turned at the sound of her voice.