done it. And perhaps Mrs. Barclay felt it so, for
she presently went on after a manner which was not like her usual
reserve.

"O that wind! O that wind! It sweeps away all that has been between,
and puts home and my childhood before me. But it makes me home-sick,
Lois!"

"Cannot you go on with the hymn, dear Mrs. Barclay? You know how it
goes,--

'My half day's work is done;
And this is all my part--
I give a patient God
My patient heart.'"

"What does he want with it?" said the weary woman beside her.

"What? O, it is the very thing he wants of us, and of you; the one
thing he cares about! That we would love him."

"I have not done a half day's work," said the other; "and my heart is
not patient. It is only tired, and dead."

"It is not that," said Lois. "How very, very good you have been to
Madge and me!"

"You have been good to me. And, as your grandmother quoted this
morning, no thanks are due when we only love those who love us. My
heart does not seem to be alive, Lois. You had better go to your aunt's
without me, dear. I should not be good company."

"But I cannot leave you so!" exclaimed Lois; and she left her seat and
sank upon her knees at her friend's side, still clasping the hand that
had taken hers. "Dear Mrs. Barclay, there is help."

"If you could give it, there would be, you pretty creature!" said Mrs.
Barclay, with her other hand pushing the beautiful masses of red-brown
hair right and left from Lois's brow.

"But there is One who can give it, who is stronger than I, and loves
you better."

"What makes you think so?"

"Because he has promised. 'Come unto me, all ye that labour and are
heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.'"

Mrs. Barclay said nothing, but she shook her head.

"It is a promise," Lois repeated. "It is a PROMISE. It is the King's
promise; and he never breaks his word."

"How do you know, my child? You have never been where I am."

"No," said Lois, "not there. I have never felt just _so_."

"I have had all that life could give. I have had it, and knew I had it.
And it is all gone. There is nothing left."

"There is this left," said Lois eagerly, "which you have not tried."

"What?"

"The promise of Christ."

"My dear, you do not know what you are talking of. Life is in its
spring with you."

"But I know the King's promise," said Lois.

"How do you know it?"

"I have tried it."

"But you have never had any occasion to try it, y