it out" with his confidante about that
matter of good being made to come out of evil.

"O Jeff!" exclaimed the horrified old lady when he entered, "wounded?
perhaps fatally!"

"Not quite so bad as that, auntie," replied Jeff, with a hearty laugh,
for Miss Millet's power to express alarm was wonderful. "I'll soon put
myself to rights when I get back to the station. I ought to apologise
for calling in such a plight, but I've been thinking much since I last
saw you, and I want to have a talk."

"Not till I have bound up all your wounds," said Miss Millet firmly.

Knowing that he would gain his end more quickly by giving in, Jeff
submitted to have several fingers of both hands done up with pieces of
white rag, and a slight cut across the bridge of his handsome nose
ornamented with black sticking-plaster. He not only enjoyed the
operation with a sort of reckless joviality, but sought to gratify his
friend by encouraging her to use her appliances to the utmost, intending
to remove them all when he quitted the cottage. The earnest little
woman availed herself fully of the encouragement, but could scarcely
refrain from laughing when she surveyed him after the operation was
completed.

"Now, auntie, have you finished?"

"Yes."

"Well then, tell me, do you really think that at all times, and in all
circumstances, God causes events that are disastrous to work out good?"

"Indeed I do," returned Miss Millet, becoming very serious and earnest
as she sat down opposite her young friend. "No doubt there is much of
mystery connected with the subject but I can't help that any more than I
can help my beliefs. Of course we know, because it is written, that
`_all_ things work together for good to them that love God;' but even in
the case of those who do _not_ love Him, I think He often sends sorrow
and trouble for the very purpose of driving them out of trust in
themselves, and so clearing the way to bring them to the Saviour. And
is it not written, `Surely the wrath of man shall praise Thee?'"

The young man remained silent for a few moments.

"Well, now," he said, "what think you of this case? The skipper whom we
rescued this afternoon, along with his wife, told me that he has been
reduced to beggary. He owned the vessel which now lies out on the rocks
there, a total wreck. It was his last venture. He had put all that he
possessed into it, and not a scrap of the cargo will be saved. Having
been a lucky man all his