ts with light hands. The
younger of the welcome little two was one of ten who died during an
epidemic at Neyoor. The elder one is with us still--a bright,
intelligent child.

The only other one whom we have been compelled to give up in this most
hurting way was saved through friends on the hills, who, before they
sent the little child to us, believed all safe as to claims upon her
afterwards. She was a pretty child of five, and we grew to love her very
much; for her ways were sweet and gentle and very affectionate. Lala,
Lola, and Leela were a dear little trio, all about the same age, and all
rather specially interesting children.

But the father gave trouble. He was not a good man, and we knew it was
not love for his little daughter which prompted his action. He demanded
her back, and our friends had to telegraph to us to send her home. It
was not an easy thing to do; and we packed her little belongings feeling
as if we were moving blindly in a grievous dream, out of which we must
surely awaken.

There was some delay about a bandy, but at last it was ready and
standing at the door. We lifted the little girl into it, put a doll and
a packet of sweets in her hands, and gave our last charges to those who
were taking her up to the hills, workers upon whom we could depend to do
anything that could yet be done to win her back again. Then the bandy
drove away.

But we went back to our room and asked for a great and good thing to be
done. We thought of little Lala, with her gentle nature which had so
soon responded to loving influence, and we knew her very gentleness
would be her danger now; for how could such a little child, naturally so
yielding in disposition, withstand the call that would come, and the
pressure that had broken far stronger wills? So we asked that she might
either be returned to us soon or taken away from the evil to come. A
week passed and our workers returned without her; they evidently felt
the case quite hopeless. But the next letter we had from our friends
told us the child was safe.

She had left us in perfect health, but pneumonia set in upon her return
to the colder air of the hills. She had been only a few days ill, and
died very suddenly--died without anyone near her to comfort her with
soothing words about the One to whom she was going. Even in the gladness
that she was safe now, there was the pitiful thought of her loneliness
through the dark valley; and we seemed to see the little wistful