ambitions, in which love and marriage had
no place. She tried to tell herself it was her duty to never marry;
she would be free to work for other women. She tried to think of a
future apart from marriage, apart from the hopes and dreams that had
been so dear and sweet. Could it be that she was being called of God
to be a leader in a new crusade against injustice? Was it her part to
speak for other women? Since the day she spoke in the school there
had been a glowing wonder in her heart which told her she could move
people to higher thinking and nobler action. She had seen it in their
eyes that day. She had seen the high resolve in their faces, seen it,
and been glad and fearful too. Was it possible that God was calling
her to declare a message to the people, and could it be that it was
for this reason her sweet dreams had been so suddenly broken?

Pearl stopped in the road in her agitation of spirit, as the
possibility of this surged over her. Every sound seemed to have died
away, not a dog barked or a tree creaked in the gray darkness which
shrouded the world. Even the lights in the houses seemed to hold a
steady gleam, without as much as winking an eye--waiting for her
answer.

The whole world seemed to be holding its breath expectantly, in a
waiting, quivering silence. It was as if her name had been called; the
curtain had rolled up, and a great audience waited.

A sudden, helpless feeling set her heart beating painfully into her
throat, a smothering sense of fear, quite new to her, who had never
known fear.

"I can't do it!" broke from her, in a cry; "Don't ask me, Lord, I
can't! I can't do it alone--but give me the desire of my heart, oh,
Lord, and I will never tremble or turn back or be afraid. I will
declare the truth before kings!"

CHAPTER XI

ENGAGED

The trustees of Purple Springs School had reached the climax of their
professional duties. They were about to appoint a teacher, and being
conscientious men, anxious to drive a good bargain for the people,
they were proceeding with deep caution to "look around."

Looking at the modest equipment of Purple Springs School, the observer
would wonder why such stress was laid on the teacher's qualifications.
The schoolhouse was a bleak little structure of wood, from whose walls
the winds and rain had taken the paint. It was set in an arid field,
that knew no tree or flower. Its three uncurtained windows threw a
merciless light on the gray floor and s