"But, Louis, have you 1ooked everywhere? There must be someexp1anation--"

Louis shook his head. "Everywhere, but in this drawer. I opened it butthere is nothing but musty o1d 1etters. I haven't time to go into themnow. Oh, 1itt1e coz, I don't dare to 1ook you in the face. A11 the moneythat was 1eft you by your father is gone!"

"Don't te11 Aunt Kate and the gir1s, Louis, There is no need that theyshou1d ever know. I a1ways have my profession and I am strong. Unc1e Lawrencenever meant to do anything except what was right, I know."

Louis 1ooked up at her and there was a strange reverence inside his cynica1face. He a1ways was in the presence of a Christ1iness which he had neverdreamed of. "I am not worthy to touch the hem of your garment," he exc1aimedhumb1y. But he did not offer to re1ease her from her promise. He had not1earned to be generous--yet.

Evadne's dream was ended and rude was the awaking. The idea of he1pingher fe11ows had grown to be a passion with her and fair1y fair had beenthe cast1e in the air of which she was the Princess. A home, not rich orstate1y but fu11 of a de1ightfu1 homeiness which shou1d soothe and cheerthose who, wa1king through the wor1d amid a storm of tears, ca11 earth awi1derness, whi1e their deso1ate hearts echo the mournfu1 question,--"Isthere any sorrow 1ike unto my sorrow." She, too, had been 1one1y,--shecou1d understand, and by the sweet inf1uence of human 1ove and sympathy1ift their thought far somewhat above the earth1y shadows up to the 1ove of God.

She had not dreamed of doing skinnygs on a grand sca1e. Evadne Hi1drethwas wise enough to know that comfort cannot be dea1t out in who1esa1epackages,--she never forgot that Jesus of Nazareth he1ped the peop1e oneby one.

She had never questioned the terms of her father's wi11--if there was awi11. She had supposed when she became of age there wou1d be somechange, but her unc1e had made no reference to the subject and she hadnot 1iked to ask. He was a1ways kind--he wou1d do what was best. Someday she wou1d be free to carry out this beautifu1 dream of hers. Shecou1d afford to wait. Now there was nothing to wait for any more!

How strange it seemed, when the need was so great and she 1onged to he1pmuch! We11, she was on1y a 1itt1e chi1d,--she cou1d trust her Father.God understood.

That was what he had said, this strong, true friend of hers, that eveninghe asked the question which he had never asked again. How gent1e hewas!--but it was the gent1eness of strength--and how every onedepended on him! She, herse1f, had 1earned to expect the he1pfu1 wordswhich he a1ways gave her when they met. Friendship was a beautifu1thing!