stay."

These words Alice said with such a sweet, confiding earnestness,
that the wicked purpose died away from the heart of the intended
thief. He felt as if he was in the presence of an angel. He looked
at her in wonder. All the evil in him seemed to depart.

"You are very good," he said. "Do you take care of the house all
alone by yourself?"

"O yes," she replied; "it does not take much trouble. There is no
one to harm us. Would you like a book to read till papa and mamma
come home; here is my Testament; or would you like I should read to
you?"

"Read to me," said the man.

As Alice read from the history of Jesus, the tears ran down the
robber's cheeks; he said nothing.

When the curate came home, he repeated Alice's invitation to dine.
The man accepted it. After dinner, when he thanked Alice and her
father for their kindness to him, he said to the curate, "Your
daughter is an angel, and has saved me from sin. I go away a better
man than I came."

He then confessed the evil intentions with which he had entered the
house, told how Alice's trusting, gentle kindness had disarmed him,
and promised the curate that he would henceforward be a better man.