the life was that the guests were taken into the heart of
the living and felt themselves a part of the home. They never preached,
these wise, tender women, but the beautiful incidental teachings sank
deep into hearts that would have been closed fast against sermons. There
was no stereotyped effort to do them good, they simply lived as Christ
did, and the world-tired souls looked on and marveled, and rejoiced in
the sunlight of the present and the afterglow which made the memory of
their visit a delight.

"'Do not leave the sky out of your landscape,'" said Aunt Marthe in her
cheery way, as Mrs. Dolours was wailing over her troubles. That was
all--for the time,--Mrs. Everidge believed in homeopathy--but it set her
hearer thinking, and thought found expression in questioning, until she
was led to the feet of the great Teacher and learned to roll her burden
of trouble upon him who came to bear the burdens of the world.

"'We are not to be anxious about living but about living well,'" said
Miss Diana to a young man who prided himself upon being a philosopher
"that is a maxim of Plato's but we can only carry it out by the help of
the Lord, my boy." And he listened to Evadne's merry laugh as she pelted
Hans with cherries while Gretchen dreamed of the Fatherland under the
trees by the brook, and wondered whether after all the men who had made
it their aim to stifle every natural inclination, had learned the true
secret of living as well as these happy souls who laid their cares down
at the feet of their Father, and gave their lives into Christ's keeping
day by day.

"You just seem to live in the present," wealthy Mrs. Greyson said with a
sigh, as she folded her jeweled fingers over her rich brocade, "I don't
see how you do it! Life is one long presentiment with me. I am filled
with such horrible forebodings. I tell Doctor Randolph, it is a sort of
moral nightmare."

"Some of your griefs you have cured,
And the sharpest you still have survived,
But what torments of pain you endured,
From evils that never arrived!"

Evadne quoted the words from a book of old French poems she had found in
the library. Then she asked gently, "Why should you worry about the
future, dear Mrs. Greyson, when it is such a waste of time? Don't you
believe our Father loves his children?

"A waste of time." That was a new way of looking at it! Mrs. Greyson had
always prided herself upon being thrifty, and, if God loved, would he
let any r