old clothes, and cold pieces, and tracts!

That was all that Ruth Erskine knew. She could not recover from her
astonishment and confusion; she made her stay very short, indeed,
apologizing in what she was conscious was an awkward way for her
intrusion, and then went directly toward home, resolving in great
firmness that she had made her last calls on people selected from that
horrible list.

She was more than embarrassed; she was utterly dismayed and
disheartened. Was there, then, nothing for her to do? It had been a real
honest desire to be up and doing which had sent her to Dr. Dennis; it
had been a real cross, and one keenly felt to take up this work about
which she had started. What an utter failure! What could he have meant?
How was she expected to help those people? They needed nothing; they
were Christian people; they were pleasantly circumstanced in every way.
She had not the least idea how to be of any help to them. There was
nothing for her to do. She felt humbled and sad.

Yet that young lady was joined in a few minutes by Nellis Mitchell, who
cordially volunteered to shield her dainty summer toilet from certain
drops of rain that began to fall, and so walked six entire blocks by her
side, pleasant and genial as usual, and not a word said she to him about
the great topic to which her life was consecrated. He even helped her by
himself referring to the evening meeting, and saying that he should have
to escort Eurie as far as the door if this rain continued, and she did
not so much as think to ask him to come farther and enjoy the meeting
with them. She did not like Nellis Mitchell, you will remember.

Also that same evening she spent an hour after prayer-meeting in
conversation with her friend, Mr. Wayne, and she said not a single word
to him about this matter. She could not talk with him, she told
herself; he did not understand her, and it did no good. Some time, when
he was in a less complaisant mood, she could do something for him, but
not now. She was not very companionable, however; her mind was dwelling
on her afternoon disappointment.

"It was the most horrid time I ever had in my life!" she told Marion,
after going over an account of the experience. "I shall not be caught in
that way again."

And Marion, unsympathetic girl that she was, laughed much and long.

"What a creature you are!" she said, at last. "I declare, it is funny
that people can live in the world and know so little about their