Then surely we must know our friends again?" saith _Helen_.

"He was a queer fellow that first questioned that," saith Aunt _Joyce_.
"If I be not to know _Anstace Morrell_, I am well assured I shall not
know her sister _Joyce_!"

"But thereby hangeth a dreadful question, _Joyce_!" answereth my Lady
_Stafford_. "If we must needs know the souls that be found, how about
them that be missed?"

Aunt _Joyce_ was silent for a moment. Then saith she--

"The goat doth but hurt himself, _Dulcie_, to pull too hard at the
tether. Neither thou nor I can turn over the pages of the Book of Life.
It may be that we shall both find souls whom we thought to miss.
May-be, in the very last moment of life, the Lord may save souls that
have been greatly prayed for, though they that be left behind never wit
it till they join the company above. We poor blindlings must leave that
in His hands unto whom all hearts be open, and who willeth not the death
of any sinner. `As His majesty is, so is His mercy.' Of this one thing
am I sure, that no soul shall be found in Hell which should have rather
chosen Heaven. They shall go `to their own place:' the place they are
fit for, and the place they choose."

"But how can we forget them?" she replieth.

"If we are to forget them," saith Aunt _Joyce_, "the Lord will know how
to compass it. I have reached the end of my tether, _Dulcie_; and to
pull thereat doth alway hurt me. I will step back, by thy leave."

As I listed the two voices, both something touched, methought it should
be one soul in especial of whom both were thinking, and I guessed that
were Mr _Leonard Norris_.

"And yet," saith my Lady _Stafford_, "that thought hath its perilous
side, _Joyce_. 'Tis so easy for a man to think he shall be saved at the
last minute, howsoe'er he live."

"Be there any thoughts that have not a perilous side?" saith Aunt
_Joyce_. "As for that, _Dulcie_, my rule is, to be as easy as ever I
can in my charitable hopes for other folk; and as hard as ever I can on
this old woman _Joyce_, that I do find such rare hard work to pull of
the right road. I cannot help other folks' lives: but I can see to it
that I make mine own calling sure. That is the safe side, I reckon."

"The safe side, ay: but men mostly love to walk on the smooth side."

"Why, so do I," quoth Aunt _Joyce_: "but I would be on the side that
shall come forth smooth at the end."

"Ah, if all would but think of that!" saith my Lady, a