t question from her companion. It
came out after some little pause.

"Matilda what has put this in your head?"

"This we have been talking of? Why I wanted to make Sarah comfortable.
I could not bear to have her in that dreadful place. Mr. Wharncliffe,
don't you think it is dreadful?"

"I do think it is dreadful; and your feeling very natural. Then you
want to go to this expense and trouble for the comfort of knowing that
she is comfortable?"

"I think so," said Matilda, somewhat puzzled. "I could not bear to
think of her there."

"All perfectly right, Matilda," said her friend smiling. "I only want,
while you are taking care of Sarah, to take care of you."

"How, sir?"

"There are so many ways in which good things may be done; and I wish
you to take the best."

"What ways do you mean, sir? I do not understand."

"There is one way of doing kind things, merely or chiefly to save one's
self from the uncomfortable feeling that the sight of misery gives.
Kind people of that sort are benevolent in spots, just when they see or
hear of something that touches them, and never at any other time.
Others do kind things because they like to have a name for generosity,
and giving money costs them nothing."

Matilda looked inquiringly up in Mr. Wharncliffe's face. "It made me
very uncomfortable to see Sarah in that place," she said; "and to think
of her in it."

"A third sort of kindness," Mr. Wharncliffe went on smiling, "is done
because people love the Lord Jesus, and so love all whom he loves, and
like to do the work he wants done."

"But it makes them feel badly to see people suffering?" said Matilda.

"Undoubtedly. They are the tenderest of all. But they will do as much
for people they never saw, as for those at hand; and their spring of
kindness never dries up. It is a perpetual flow. When they do not see
objects on which to spend it, they seek them out."

Matilda pondered matters a little. Then she lifted a very honest face
towards her companion.

"Which reason did you think made me want to do this for Sarah, sir?"

"I wanted _you_ to think about it."

"Don't you think, Mr. Wharncliffe, it is very difficult to find out
really why one does things?"

"Very difficult," said Mr. Wharncliffe with a comical drawing of his
lips; "but very useful."

"I do not _think_," began Matilda again, very gravely, "I do not
_think_ my wanting to do this for Sarah was just to make myself feel
comfortable."

"I do not th