hat problem of "Christian work." The
platform meeting of the evening before, and, more than anything else,
Dr. Niles' address, had fanned her heart into a flame of desire to do
something for the Master. But what could she do? She and Flossy had
talked it over together after they reached their room at the hotel; in
fact they talked away into the night.

"I don't know," Flossy said, with a little laugh, "but I shall have to
depend on the 'unconscious influence' which I exert to do my work for
me. I don't know of anything which I can actually _do_. Dr. Niles made a
great deal of that."

"Yes," Ruth, said, "but you see, Flossy, the people whose unconscious
influence does any good are the ones after all who are moving around
_trying_ to do something. I don't feel sure that he lets the unconscious
influence of the drones amount to much, unless it is in the wrong scale.
Dr. Niles made a good deal of _that_, you remember."

"Don't you like him ever so much, Ruth?"

"Why, yes," Ruth said again, turning her pillow wearily. "I liked him of
course; how could I help it? But, after all, he made me very
uncomfortable. I seem to feel as though I _must_ find something to do. I
have a great deal of time to make up. I tell you what it is, Flossy, I
wish you and I could do something for those two girls. Isn't it strange
that they are not interested?"

"But they are not." Flossy said it as positively as if she could see
right into their hearts. "I think Marion is worse than ever; and as for
Eurie, she won't even go to the meetings, you know."

"I know. Perhaps we would only do harm to try. But what _can_ we do? I
am sure I don't see anything. And don't you know how clearly Dr. Niles
made it appear that there was a special work for each one?"

So they discussed the question, turning it over and over, and getting
almost no light, coming to feel themselves very useless and worthless
specks on the sea of life, until late in the night Flossy said:

"I'll tell you what it is, Ruth, we must just ask for work--little bits
of work, you know--and then keep our eyes open until it comes. I know of
things I can do when I get home."

"So do I," said Ruth, "but I want to begin now."

Silence for a few minutes, and then Flossy asked:

"Ruthie, have you written to Mr. Wayne?"

"No," said Ruth, her cheeks flushing even in the darkness. "I wrote a
long letter just before this came to me, but I burned it, and I am glad
of it."

Then they went t