er heart, that God would speak to her
father in some way, by some voice that he would heed; and yet she
allowed herself to be sure that his only and cherished daughter had the
one voice that could not hope to influence him in the least.

Well, there was her friend, Mr. Wayne. I wonder if I can describe to you
how impossible it seemed to her to ask him to go? Not that he would not
have accompanied her; he would in a minute; he would do almost anything
she asked; she felt as sure that she could get him to occupy a seat in
the First Church prayer-room that evening as she felt sure of going
there herself; but she asked herself, of what earthly use would it be?

He would go simply to please what he would suppose was a whim of hers;
he would listen with an amused smile, slightly tinged with sarcasm, to
all the words that would be spoken that evening, and he would have
ready a hundred mildly funny things to say about them when the meeting
closed; for weeks afterward he would be apt to bring in nicely fitting
quotations gleaned from that evening of watchfulness, fitting them into
absurd places, and making them seem the veriest folly--that would be the
fruit.

Ruth shrank with all her soul from such a result; these things were
sacred to her; she did not see how it would be possible to endure the
quizzical turn that would be given to them. I want you to notice that in
all this reasoning she did not see that she had undertaken not only her
own work but the Lord's. When one attempts not only to drop the seed,
but to _make_ the fruit that shall spring up, no wonder one stands back
appalled!

Yet was she not busying her heart with the results? The end of it was
that she decided whatever else she did, to say nothing to Mr. Wayne
about the meeting. No, I am mistaken, that was not the end; there
suddenly came in with these musings a startling thought:

"If I cannot endure the foolishness that will result from one evening,
how am I to endure companionship for a lifetime?"

That was a thought that would not slumber again. But she must find some
one whom she was willing to ask to go to prayer-meeting; there was her
miserable promise hedging her in.

Who was she willing to ask? She ran over her list of acquaintances;
there wasn't one. How strange it was! She could think of those whom
Flossy might ask, and there was Eurie surrounded by a large family; and
as for Marion, her opportunities were unlimited; but for her forlorn
self, in a