e I never can. What I am
to say in the future is simply, 'Lord, make me willing to do what there
is for me to do this day.' Remember that in a few days you will
understand what I mean."

Then she went on. Marion pondered over it. She did not understand it at
all. What trial could have come to Ruth that had brought her the
knowledge of the weakness of her own heart? She wondered if it had also
brought her peace.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XXIV.

LONELINESS.

I SUPPOSE there has never been an earnest worker, an enthusiast on any
subject, in this changeful world, but has been a victim at some time to
the dismalness of a reaction. The most forlorn little victim that could
be imagined was Flossy Shipley on that evening after the meetings, on
which her soul had fed so long, were closed.

Everything in nature and in circumstances conspired to sink her into her
desolate mood. In the first place it was raining. Now a rain closing in
upon a warm and dusty summer day is a positive delight; one can listen
to the pattering drops with a sense of eager satisfaction but a rain in
midwinter, after a day of sunless mist and fog, almost amounting to
rain, when the streets are that mixture of snow and water that can be
known only as "slush," when every opening of a door sends in gusts of
damp air that chill to one's very bones, this weather is a trial; at
least it seemed such to poor little Flossy.

She shivered over the fire in the coal grate. It glowed brightly, and
the room was warm and bright, yet to Flossy there was a sense of chill
in everything. She was all alone; and the circumstances connected with
that loneliness were not calculated to brighten the evening for her. The
entire family had gone out to a party, not one of those quiet little
entertainments which people had been so careful to explain and apologize
for during the meetings, but a grand display of toilet and supper, and
expenditure of all kinds.

Mrs. Westervelt, the hostess, being at all times noted for the display
of her entertainments, had lavished more than the usual amount of time
and money on the present ones, and waited for the meetings to close with
the most exemplary patience, in order that she might gain a very few
among her guests from those who felt the impropriety of mixing things
too much.

To be sure, the society in general which was admitted to Mrs.
Westervelt's parlors was not from that class who had any scruples as to