miringly as a grand panacea for her spring
face-ache.

In the course of the evening Miss Sandys, after a fit of absence of
mind, suddenly asked Miss West's name.

On the spur of the moment, she answered, with surprise, "Why, Miss West,
to be sure. What do you mean, Miss Sandys?" Then she reflected, laughed,
and owned that she had almost forgotten that she had a Christian name.
But she had certainly got one, and it was Magdalene, or Madge, or
Maddie; once it was Mad; and as she said Mad she laughed a second time,
to conceal a break in her voice.

Miss Sandys smiled awkwardly and guiltily, and observed quickly, "My
Christian name is Christian. Did you know that, Miss West? Oh, I forgot;
you must have seen it marked on the table and bed linen."

"Mine is to be read on my pocket-handkerchiefs. Our Christian names
preserved on table-cloths and pocket-handkerchiefs!--droll, isn't it,
Miss Sandys?"

"Of course they are in our books and letters," corrected matter-of-fact
Miss Sandys. "I dare say they are in a couple of family Bibles, too (at
least, I can speak for one), and in the records of births and baptisms
in session books, if these are not destroyed by damp and rats; and since
names are recorded in heaven," Miss Sandys was drawn on to ramble,
"surely our Christian names are there, my dear."

Miss West knew as well as if she had been told it, that Miss Sandys was
about to bestow on her a present with which her Christian name was to be
connected. Miss Sandys' eyes had failed through long looking over
lessons, and she no longer did any handiwork, save coarse knitting,
hemming, and darning. But she had a fuller purse than her companion, and
shops, even metropolitan shops, were to be reached by letter from Carter
Hill.

In addition to the strong tea and the cake, Miss Sandys further treated
Miss West to a supper of such dainties as toasted cheese and Edinburgh
ale. There were prayers--they seemed quite family prayers--with only the
four worshippers to join in them. Then there was a shake of the hands,
and Miss West lit her candle, retired, and shut herself up in her own
little room. Its daily aspect was so unchanged, that it appeared when
she entered it as though the holidays had not come, and that it must
still be the ordinary bustling school life.

She sat down, though there was no fire, and thought a little, till she
fell on her knees and prayed in low murmurs that God would enable her to
bear this season, which m