said Violet.

"It's not so long ago that I was near drowning myself," said Kate.

A look of great compassion came into Violet's face as these words were
said. She only answered quietly: "Shall I tell you a true story? A
lady one evening who was walking over a bridge in London, saw a poor
man leaning over a parapet, and he had such a sad look in his face that
she felt sure he meant to drown himself. She didn't like to speak to
him; but, as she passed by, she said these words out loud, 'There is a
river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God.' And long
after they met, and he recognised her and said, 'You saved my life,'
and told her that that night he had had the fullest intention of
drowning himself. I think her words had made him suddenly remember
another city besides London, and another river besides the dark, gloomy
Thames rolling away beneath his feet."

She waited a moment to see if Kate had taken in the little story, and
what effect it was having upon her. Kate's head was bent down, and she
had fast hold of little Frances' hand.

"Like enough the city and the river made him think of Christ," she
said. "I couldn't drown myself now, Miss,--not if it was ever so,--for
His sake I couldn't. And if I had to be miserable all the rest of my
life, it seems to me it would be worth while to have lived to have
known the love of Christ even for five minutes."

"And it isn't only for five minutes," said Violet, in a low voice, her
eyes glowing, "but for ever and for ever. This is only the beginning."

They were silent for some moments, and then Violet's gentle questions
called out much of the history of Kate's sad life. They were learning
from each other, those two girls. Kate learned what sympathy may do,
and a deep desire to minister to others sprang up within her. Violet
learned how dull and sad and surrounded with dangers the lives of many
girls in our great cities are, and the knowledge gave rise to new
prayers and plans and work in her future life.

A cathedral town came in sight. Violet, starting up, woke old Nanny,
and then began quickly putting together books and cloaks. Only a few
minutes more, and she was standing with outstretched hand at the door
of the railway carriage.

"Good-bye, good-bye," she said. "Do write and tell me how you and
little Frances like the sea-side. I hope it will do you good," and she
was gone. Kate and Frances watched with eager eyes till the tall
grace