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"Hush," said Annie, gravely; "do you not know that it is very wrong to hate any one? The Bible tells us that we are to love all; we are even to love our enemies."

"I can't love Betsy Stevens," said Patience, "and I never shall!"

"Not while you feel as you do now," replied Annie; "but God can give you kind feelings instead of angry ones, and then you will be able to love her."

"But I don't want to," said Patience.

"Not if God wishes?" said Miss Annie.

Patience was silent. "You have not been happy this afternoon; you are not happy now; I know you are not. Now would you not like to be happy from morning till night ? would you not like to find out the way to get everybody to be civil to you?"

"Yes, miss," said Patience.

"Would you not like to have some one who would love you very much, and who would take care of you when you were in trouble? some one who would wipe away your tears and help you to get on better than you do? some one who would be a real friend to you, and who would never go away from you?"

"Oh, yes, indeed I should!" said Patience.

"Then you can have it, if you like," said Annie. "Jesus Christ can be just such a kind friend to you. He sees how sorrowful and unhappy you are, and he wants to comfort and bless you, and make you happy. He loves you very much."

"Oh, no, he can not love me," said Patience; "I am not good."

"Yes, but indeed he does love you," said Annie, as she smoothed the hair on her forehead; "and he has sent me to tell you so to-day. He knows you are not good, but still he loves you; and if you will only love him in return, he will teach you how to be good, and he will help you to be so. You can not think how much Jesus loves you! Why, he not only came down from heaven, and lived in a worse home than yours, and was very poor, and was hated and ill-treated by so many people, but he died a painful death on the cross for us, that, if we believe in him, we might go to heaven when we die. And now he asks you to let him be your friend and Saviour; and will you not, my child?"

"I think I will," said Patience. She felt that all the young lady said about Jesus was true. Annie's pity had prepared her poor little closed-up heart to open to the story of a Saviour's great and divine pity. "Won't you tell me any more about him?" she said, as Annie rose from her low seat on the bank.

"No, I must go now," said Annie, "because I shall be wanted at home; but I will see you again soon, if I can. Where do you live?"

"In the little cottage by the mill, miss, with my grandmother, and she is mostly out at work."

"Then I will look in when I am coming past, and if you are there we can have another talk together. Can you read?"

"Oh, yes," said Patience.

Annie opened a little basket which hung on her arm, and took out a bright green-covered little book, containing a very pretty story and two or three nice pictures, and she gave it to Patience to keep for her own. Patience was highly pleased.

"Now good-bye," she said, cheerfully, "and do not forget what I have been saying to you this afternoon. Think it over till you see me next time, and try to be good-tempered and forgiving." She turned back, and added, with a smile, "But I have not asked you yet what your name is; will you tell me?"

"Patience Heywood, miss."

Annie did not express any surprise at this singular name, although she could not help being amused with it. "Well," said Annie to herself, as she tripped rightly through the quiet meadow, "I must try if I can not, with God's blessing, make the wrong name become a right one."

Annie Leslie was the squire's youngest daughter. She had just returned from school, and she had come home with a heart full of love to the Saviour, and a strong desire to be actively employed in his service. She had already taken a class in the Sunday school; and she thought she had found another way of usefulness through this unlooked-for meeting with Patience; for it was very plain that there was plenty of room for improvement in the character and habits of the poor neglected little orphan; and Annie hoped well for the future, from the way in which Patience had listened to her.

When Annie reached home she told her little adventure to her mother and sister, and they were much interested in her attempt to cheer and instruct the forlorn little girl; but when she said she thought the child was a cripple, and that her name was Patience Heywood, Annie's sister cried out, "Oh, you will never be able to make anything of that girl, she is so very perverse and dull!"

"You know her then?" said Annie.

"I should think I did," answered Ruth; "she has been a great trouble to me in the day-school; for almost every time that I have gone there, there has been some complaint made about 'Patience Heywood;' and it was about as much use for me to reprove her, or to reason with her, as to waste my words upon a block of wood. She has left now, and I am sure I am not sorry, nor the mistress either."

"Why did she leave?"