--the other is a gift.
We get wages as we deserve them, but a gift has nothing to do with
deserving. God gives us eternal life, not because we are worthy, but
because Christ, our Saviour, has asked it for us--has earned it for us.
It is _His_ wages--the price of _His_ work. All we have got to do is to
take it and trust Him for the rest."

There was nothing wonderful in the words Minnie used, they were at times
a little disconnected, but they came straight from her heart with such
evident conviction of their truth that they struck her hearers with a
force that astonished them.

"Trust Him for the rest," repeated the dying woman. "Trust Him for the
rest. Yes I will. You trust Him, I see that, and why should not I? I
don't understand it quite yet, but He has said it, and I _will_ believe
it."

After that she lay still for a long time, neither moving nor speaking,
and scarcely seeming to breathe.

"Mabel," whispered Minnie, "I think we may leave her now. She seems at
peace. I'll run in to Molly Gray's, and ask her to stay here with her
during the night. Molly lives all alone since her father died, so it
won't disturb any one."

"No need," said a voice behind her in a gruff whisper that startled her,
"I'll stay with her myself."

She turned round and found herself face to face with the woman's
husband, who had returned from the pit, and entering without their
knowledge, had been a silent spectator of the scene.

"Pat!" cried the dying woman joyfully, as she heard his voice, "Oh, Pat,
I am so glad you've come back in time to see me die in peace. You see I
_can_ die in peace, and you need not mind the money you promised to save
for masses. I won't need any, for I am going straight to my Saviour.
He's waiting for me in Heaven, and He's here beside me now, and He'll be
with me all the way. Oh, miss, pray for my husband and my children that
they may come to know such joy as this!"

Minnie knelt down beside the bed, and involuntarily they all followed
her example--the great, strong Irishman kneeling at the head beside his
wife, her thin, white hands clasped in his rough brown ones. For some
minutes the silence remained unbroken, and then Minnie's clear, sweet
voice rose in earnest, supplicating tones for this family so soon to be
bereaved.

Her prayer was short and simple, but it went straight to the hearts of
her few listeners, touching and softening them with its heart-felt
pathos, so that when they rose there were t