onderful story of "Toads
and Diamonds." In one way she was glad that Agnes knew so little about
money matters; she wanted to save her from care or anxiety. But there
were times when she was so perplexed and straitened, that it made her
impatient to think any grown person could be so stupid as to live in
their house and not more fully understand their circumstances. At such
times she murmured and even rebelled, wondering why she should have all
the burden. It did not reconcile her to it, to know that others admired
and deferred to her judgment. She grew tired of thinking and planning,
and longed for a strength greater than her own, upon which she could
lean, for some one to help her bear the burdens. This was not sentiment.
If the thought of marriage came to her as it probably did, especially at
such times, she put it far from her. She would never leave Guy and
Agnes; but if they only had been constituted differently, they could
have helped her. And they in turn, little dreaming of her struggles,
looked at her with admiring eyes, giving her credit, as far as they
could follow her, and thinking what a wonderful woman their Ruth was.

"But it is slow work after all," she said, by way of reply to her
sister's remarks. "A man must possess great talent and still greater
patience and perseverance, to arrive at any distinction; and until he
reaches that, he cannot expect to make his fortune. There are so many
young lawyers, they are crowding each other out."

"But Guy must be satisfied, Ruth; he does not appear troubled or
disappointed."

"Why should he? he is like hundreds more, and that fact is consoling.
Besides, the slower and more cautious he is in the ascent, the more
assured will he be when he reaches the summit."

She rose as she said this, and Agnes thinking the talk was over, removed
her arms from the friendly bed-post. But she had only gone over to the
bureau for her Bible, that she might read a chapter as usual before
retiring. Returning to her seat she abruptly asked: "Do you think much
about the future, Agnes?"

"Do you mean about heaven?"

"No, the future of time."

"Not nearly as much as I used to. Before my heart was renewed, I kept
looking to the future for something satisfying; but it never came until
I found the Saviour."

"Yes, but I mean do you wonder what your life is to be, and what changes
will come to us all?"

"O, often such thoughts come, but they are disquieting, and I drive them
away. I