"Mamma," said Amy, pointing to a painting of Ecce Homo, "I do so love that sad face; sometimes when I sit here and look at it intently, the eyes seem to open. Once I was so sure of it, I got Hetty to take the picture down. Oh, I feel so sorry for our dear Lord, especially his crown of thorns. Why, oh why, couldn't they have taken it off while he was carrying the cross. He must have struck His sacred head against the cross as he staggered under its heavy weight up that awful road to Calvary," and the gentle, tender-hearted girl sobbed aloud.