couldn't help it, that's all."

"I am sorry, daughter, that you gave way to your temper so. For remember,
you are only the sower that plants the seed, and God takes care of all the
rest. If you really try to teach Polly, and she won't be taught, you
mustn't make a personal thing of it, but just leave it with God. Then,
again, daughter, unless you practice self-control, teaching others is a
farce. I know Polly has been very trying, indeed. But I want you to show a
real forgiving spirit, as one should always show when one is working for
the Master. I want you to tell Polly you are sorry you struck her. For you
are sorry, I know--I see it in your face."

A kind of staccato snuffle was heard in the direction of Polly.

Roberta gave another look at the surly, unprepossessing countenance, then
said, in a low voice:

"I will, Mamma, if you will let me hide my face in your lap while I am
saying it."

"But why hide your face in my lap, daughter?"

"Because--because--Mamma--I am afraid--if she looks at me as she did
before, that I will slap her again. I don't believe I could keep from it
this evening; I am all out of sorts."

Afterwards that observation of Polly's, "Dilsy never had no daddy," caused
Roberta no little thought. Really, she was no better off than Dilsy, she
reasoned, for of course the child did not take in the full significance of
the imp's meaning. Nobody ever told her that her papa was dead. Indeed she