ed at her mother's anxious face, and
pronounced herself quite well, quite well, only perhaps a little
tired.

Meantime all sorts of plans for usefulness ran riot in her brain. She
could not go away on a mission because her mission had come to her.
For a wonder she realized that her mother needed her. She took up
bravely and eagerly, so far as she could see it, the work that lay
around her; but her restless heart craved more, more. She _must_ do
something outside of this narrow circle for the Master. One evening
her enthusiasm, which had been fed for several days on a new scheme
that was afloat in the town, reached its hight. Ester remembered
afterward every little incident connected with that evening--just
how cozy the little family sitting-room looked, with her for its only
occupant; just how brightly the coals glowed in the open grate; just
what a brilliant color they flashed over the crimson cushioned rocker,
which she had vacated when she heard Dr. Van Anden's step in the
hall, and went to speak to him. She was engaged in writing a letter to
Abbie, full of eager schemes and busy, bright work. "I am astonished
that I ever thought there was nothing worth living for;" so she wrote.
"Why life isn't half long enough for the things that I want to do.
This new idea just fills me with delight. I am so eager to get to
work--" Thus far when she heard that step, and springing up went with
eagerness to the door.

"Doctor, are you in haste? Haven't you just five minutes for me?"

"Ten," answered the Doctor promptly, stepping into the bright little
room.

In her haste, not even waiting to offer him a seat, Ester plunged at
once into her subject.

"Aren't you the chairman of that committee to secure teachers for the
evening school?"

"I am."

"Have you all the help you want?"

"Not by any means. Volunteers for such a self-denying employment as
teaching factory girls are not easy to find."

"Well, Doctor, do you think--would you be willing to propose my name
as one of the teachers? I should so like to be counted among them."

Instead of the prompt thanks which she expected, to her dismay Dr. Van
Anden's face looked grave and troubled. Finally he slowly shook his
head with a troubled--

"I don't think I can, Ester."

Such an amazed, grieved, hurt look as swept over Ester's face.

"It is no matter," she said at last, speaking with an effort. "Of
course I know little of teaching, and perhaps could do no good; but I