of the sufferings of
others. The fact of Effie having a dual life, of having a nature which
could not forget the old home ties, was not likely, however, to be
recognized in the hospital.

The next morning at breakfast she noticed that one or two of the
probationers giggled a little when they saw her. She sat down in her
usual seat, and one of the girls nudged her elbow.

"Well," she said, "you're no better than the rest of us."

"What in the world do you mean?" said Effie, coloring scarlet.

"Oh, don't be so sly!" said the girl, with a poke which she intended to
make playful. "He is a very good-looking young fellow, too; only, if you
don't want to get into mischief, don't let Sister Kate see it."

"I know what you mean," said Effie in a steady voice; "but you are
altogether mistaken. I scarcely know Mr. Lawson; he only spoke to me
yesterday because he happened to be a great friend of my brother's."

"Oh, the usual thing," laughed the girl. "It's so very convenient to
have brothers; is it not, Lucy?"

The girl addressed as Lucy grinned, and Effie felt very uncomfortable.

At dinner that day, it suddenly passed through her mind that she must,
by hook or by crook, induce one of the probationers to change Sundays
with her. Lucy was usually a good-natured girl. Her people did not live
in town; as a rule she spent her Sundays out with her aunt-in-law.
Effie went up to her when she had a moment to spare.

"Lucy," she said, "I wish you would do something for me."

"To be sure I will, Effie," she replied--"anything in my power."

"I want to go home very badly next Sunday; do you think it would be
possible for me to change with you?"

"Heigh-ho!" said Lucy, "You want to meet Mr. Lawson; I know your sly
little ways."

"No, indeed, it is not true," began Effie; but then she stopped, for she
knew it was true. She would meet him. "Oh, how little Lucy knows the
burden that is pressing on me!" thought the poor girl.

Tears suddenly rose to her pretty brown eyes.

"I cannot explain things to you," she said; "I would if I could. You
must believe in me and trust me. I have a great deal of anxiety. Oh, it
has nothing to do with the hospital; it is about my home life. There is
a great burden laid upon me. I want very much to go home on Sunday.
Indeed, Mr. Lawson has little to do with the real burden, only I believe
he can tell me something."

"I know you are a good girl," began Lucy, who became grave on the spot.
"Of cou