All this was new and strange to Linna. In her own home, she
was accustomed to sit on the ground, and use only her fingers for
knife and fork when taking food; but she was observant and quick,
and knowing how it had been with her, her friends soon did away
with her embarrassment. The mother cut her meat into small pieces,
spread butter--which the visitor looked at askance--on the
brown bread, and she had but to do as the rest, and all went well.

A few minutes after supper both girls became drowsy, and Mrs.
Ripley, candle in hand, conducted them upstairs to the small room
set apart for their use.

This was another novel experience for the visitor. She insisted at
first upon lying on the hard floor, for never in her life had she
touched a bed; but after awhile, she became willing to share the
couch with her playmate.

Alice knelt down by the side of the little trundle bed and said her
prayers, as she always did; but Linna could not understand what it
meant. She wonderingly watched her until she was through, and then
with some misgiving, clambered among the clothes, and the mother
tucked her up, though the night was so warm they needed little
covering.

Mrs. Ripley felt that she ought to tell the dusky child about her
heavenly Father, and to teach her to pray. She therefore sat down
on the edge of the bed, and in simple words began the wonderful
story of the Saviour, who gave His life to save her as well as all
others.