ost?" the man huskily demanded, and in a tone of intense
bitterness, for her solemn words had pierced his heart like a
double-edged dagger.

"I care because you are a human being, with a soul that must live
eternally--because I am striving to serve One who has commanded us to
follow Him in seeking to save that which is lost," the fair woman
gravely replied. "Look at yourself, Gerald--your inner self, I mean.
Outwardly you are a specimen of God's noblest handiwork. How does your
spiritual self compare with your physical frame?--has it attained the
same perfection? No; it has become so dwarfed and misshapen by your
indulgence in sin and vice--so hardened by yielding to so-called
'pleasure,' your intellect so warped, your talents so misapplied that
even your Maker would scarcely recognize the being that He Himself had
brought into existence. You are forty-nine years old, Gerald--you may
have ten, twenty, even thirty more to live. How will you spend them?
Will you go on as you have been living for almost half a century, or
is there still a germ of good within you that you will have strength
and resolution to develop, as far as may be, toward that perfect
symmetry which God desires every human soul to attain? Think!--choose!
Make this hour the turning point in your career; go back to your
painting, retrieve your skill, and work to some purpose and for some
worthy object. If you do not need the money such work will bring, for
your own support, use it for the good of others--of those unfortunate
ones, perchance, whose lives have been blighted, as mine was blighted,
by those 'hundreds of other men' like you."

As the beautiful woman concluded her earnest appeal, the
conscience-smitten man dropped his head upon the table beside which he
sat, and groaned aloud.

For the first time in his life he saw himself as he was, and loathed
himself, his past life, and all the alluring influences that had
conspired to decoy him into the downward path which he had trodden.

"I will! I will! Oh, Isabel, forgive and help me," he pleaded, in a
voice thrilling with despair.

"I help you?" she repeated, in an inquiring tone, in which there was a
note of surprise.

"Yes, with your sweet counsel, your pure example and influence."

"I do not understand you, quite," she responded, her lovely color
waning as a suspicion of his meaning began to dawn upon her.

He raised his face, which was drawn and haggard from the remorse he
was suffering, a