en" to you. Jesus could. One
came and sat at his feet and wept, and dried them with her hair.

"Oh," said she, "it isn't so! They come, and are glad to stay. I don't
know that they are finally saved, that they never fall again. But here,
anyhow, we have given them a resting spell and time to think. And plenty
turn good."

She told me of a girl brought in by her brother as incorrigible. No one
knew what to do with her. She stayed in that atmosphere of affection three
months, and went forth to service. That was nearly half a year before,
and she had "stayed good." A chorus girl lived twelve years with a man,
who then cast her off. Heartsease sent her out a domestic, at ten dollars
a month, and she, too, "stayed good."

"I don't consider," said the woman of Heartsease, simply, "that we are
doing it right, but we will yet."

I looked at her, the frail girl with this unshaken, unshakable faith in
the right, and asked her, not where she got her faith--I knew that--but
where she got the money to run the house. Alas, for poor human nature that
will not accept the promise that "all these things shall be added unto
you!" She laughed.

"The rent is pledged by half a dozen friends. The rest--comes."

"But how?"

She pointed to a lot of circulars, painfully written out in the night
watches.

"We are selling soap just now," she said; "but it is not always soap.
Here," patting a chair, "this is Larkin's soap; that chafing-dish is green
stamps; this set of dishes is Mother's Oats. We write to the people, you
see, and they buy the things, and we get the prizes. We've furnished the
house in that way. And some give us money. A man offered to give an
entertainment, promising to give us $450 of the receipts. And then the
Charity Organization Society warned us against him, and we had to give up
the $450," with a sigh. But she brightened up in a moment: "The very next
day we got $1000 for our building fund. We shall have to move some day."

The elevated train swept by the window with rattle and roar. You could
have touched it, so close did it run. "I won't let it worry me," she said,
with her brave little smile.

I listened to the crash of the vanishing train, and looked at the mean
surroundings, and my thoughts wandered to the great school in the
Massachusetts hills--her school--which I had passed only the day before.
It lay there beautiful in the spring sunlight. But something better than
its sunlight and its green hills had com