sail for China, the land where
three of my sisters were already laboring as missionaries. One had
been out for six years, had been married while on the field, and was
almost ready for furlough. The other two sisters had been out a
shorter period. They were both single, and stationed together. That
day I had received a letter from them written from a little hill
resort operated by our Mission, where they and others had gone to
escape the worst of the summer heat. Now, for missionaries, a summer
resort is the most common place for a romance to develop! The letter
was a gay description of their life there, and ended with the
following sentence:

"There are thirty-three of us here now: seven married couples with
nine children, nine single ladies, and one single man! There is one
more single man expected, we hear, but even at that, I'm afraid there
isn't much hope for us!"

The dinner bell rang, and I hurried down. But who was that elderly
couple in the old-fashioned clothes? Perhaps I had been told that they
were to arrive that day, but if so I had not remembered it. They were
introduced all around the circle--missionaries who had just come from
China! We sat down, and I found myself beside the lady.

"What did they say your name was?" she asked, apologetically. "I have
such a time remembering names."

I told her, and she immediately pricked up her ears. "Williamson!" she
said. "Don't you have a sister in China?"

"Yes, I have three there," I replied.

"Well, isn't that a coincidence! When I was in Shanghai I heard--no,
you couldn't have heard it yet, for the news was just out--I'm _sure_
it must have been your sister! Anyway, just before we left Shanghai
there was a great hubbub about the news of a new engagement, and I'm
almost certain--Dear," turning to her husband, "who was it that we
heard was engaged, just before we left Shanghai?"

Her husband did not remember. "Well, I'm almost sure it was your
sister, anyway!" she declared.

"My sister! But it couldn't be!" I replied rather dazedly, thinking of
the letter I had just received. "Which one? What was her first name?"

Unfortunately she could not remember that, nor did she know that
there were two Miss Williamsons in China. And as for the name of the
man--she had no idea about that, either. The whole thing seemed
extremely vague, and altogether unlikely, and I dismissed it from my
mind.

A week later I received another letter from my two sisters. To my
ama