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and a beefsteak and they both came! And this will come, too!"
    "You prayed for an onion!" exclaimed Melissa in horror and then began to laugh.
    "And a beefsteak!" added the little girl seriously. "Say, do let's go and eat it before it gets cold. I'm just awful hungry."
    Something in her little girl's face made Mrs. Challenger rise above her weakness and go out to the table with her children.
    They bolstered her up in her place with pillows and gathered around excitedly, praising the steak and hearing over and over again Bob's account of how he went ten miles with a basket to earn that beefsteak, and what a wonderful friend Butcher Brady was.
    "But you don't mean you really prayed for a beefsteak?" said Melissa, suddenly remembering and turning toward her little sister. "Not honestly, and an onion, Rosalie."
    "Sure I did," said the child, somewhat abashed. "I asked Phyllie, and she said it would be all right. Was there anything wrong about that, Mother? He answered, anyway."
    "Why, no, dear, not wrong. I'm sure God understood that you needed something to eat and that you were perfectly reverent about it. Melissa, dear, you ought not to laugh at your little sister."
    "Well, but, Mother, do you believe God is like that, knowing about what we need, and even onions and things? Do you really believe there is a God, Mother? Hardly anybody at college seemed to believe in God at all, or if they did it was just a great power or influence or something like that."
    "Why, certainly I believe in God," said Mrs. Challenger. "I'm shocked at you, Melissa. For pity's sake, don't take up with all these common modern ideas. Of course there is a God. Your father would be shocked to hear you talk like that."
    "Well then, Mother, if you believe in God, why are you so worried? Don't you think He will somehow make things better for us?" asked Phyllis softly.
    "Well, yes, I suppose, eventually--I'm not sure--I don't know just what I believe. I really have been too much worried to think about it, Phyllis. When one is in such straits as we are, it is no time to philosophize. But of course I believe in God ."
    "How in the world did Mr. Brady happen to give you onions, Bob?" asked Melissa, taking the last delicious bite of beefsteak. "Of course, it's wonderful to have them, but it's kind of weird he thought of them--when Rosy prayed for onions."
    "Oh, he said of course we needed onions with beefsteak; said his wife always had 'em and he'd put 'em in," said Bob with his mouth full. "Say, pass me that butter, won'tcha? I'm goin' ta get full for once."
    "Hadn't you better save a little for breakfast?" suggested Phyllis.
    "Nope! I'm goin' ta eat all I want. I got a fifty-cent piece left, and breakfast can go hang tanight."
    They all laughed at that and agreed with him.
    "There's half a box of cereal left," said Phyllis. "I just found it. Thought it was all gone. If you get some milk, that will make a nice breakfast."
    "Aw, gee! I'm going to get bacon and eggs!" said Bob, taking a big bite of steak.
    But every crumb of supper was finished at last, and while Phyllis and Rosalie washed up the dishes and put the kitchenette in order for morning, Melissa went to get her mother to bed.
    It was after the lights were out and everybody had been still for a long time that Rosalie ventured: "Mother, wouldn't it be nice if we all prayed for a home where Father could get well?"
    The mother was still for such a long time that they all, listening, thought she must be asleep, but then they heard her say in a low voice, deeply stirred: "Yes, very nice, Rosalie, but--you better go to sleep now."

CHAPTER FOUR
    Only two letters came in the mail next morning, together with the usual collection of advertising or begging letters and pamphlets and magazines that still continued to pour down upon the once-noted professor's family.
    Rosalie and Bob had gone off to school, each with a couple of bacon sandwiches wrapped in paper for their lunch.
    "We mustn't let them get hungry like