them. On the way to church, she decided to speak to Ruth about it.

"Did you ever have impressions that certain things _should_ be, Ruth,
and yet the things seemed impossible?"

"I scarcely understand you," Ruth replied. "What kind of things?
spiritual?"

"No, spiritual impressions of temporal things, I suppose. But this is
why I ask." Then she told of Martha's mother wanting to find a place for
her, and of the impression amounting almost to a conviction that she was
to come to them. "Only I can't see where the money is to come from."

"How much does her mother want a week?" asked Ruth, thoughtfully; for
when Agnes had these impressions, they generally had weight with her
sister. Indeed she sometimes felt as if the Lord told their Agnes more
than almost any other Christian; that she was peculiarly favored of God.

"I did not think of asking her, but it can't be much, for she is young
and will require to be taught. Why do you ask, Ruth?"

"I hardly know; perhaps if she did not want much, we could take her."

"Well, I shall ask her mother without giving the reason, and then if it
is best, the way will be made clear."

[Illustration: Decoration]

CHAPTER VI.

DEATH,--THEN LIFE.

"MRS. Nelson will be willing to let Martha go to a good home for her
board and clothing until she learns enough to be entitled to wages,
Ruth," Agnes joyfully announced. After a little consultation as to
whether their old dresses could be cut down for her, and some misgiving
on the part of Ruth as to the training of such a mere child, when
neither of them could devote much time to her, they concluded to make
the trial.

"If she's worth anything she will be worth a great deal to me just now,
for it will enable me to do what I have long been planning, without
seeing any way to accomplish it," thought Ruth.

Martha, poor child, in her great joy at the thought of living with "Miss
Agnes," seemed to have forgotten the painful circumstance which
compelled her to leave home. But on the day that her mother finished
patching her few clothes, tying them up and telling her she might go at
once to her new home, there came sad tidings from the hospital. They
need never hope to have the husband and father home again, unless to
take one last look before they buried him out of sight.

"Let me stay with you, mother; Miss Agnes will not be angry, and you
will be so lonely," plead the child, forgetting everything else in the
one great though