ighty events, so touching and blessed, that took place in Canaan
nearly two thousand years ago. Manna lived so entirely in these
representations, that she often had to stop and force herself to think
where she was. She was seized with a longing to make a pilgrimage to
Jerusalem, to kiss the soil of the Holy Land, and there atone for all
the evil done by those who were near to her, and those who were
strangers to her.

Her eyes beamed as with a fire from above, while with wonderful power
she repeated the sacred history to little Heimchen, who was again sick
in bed. But the little girl made her smile to-day by asking:--

"Is there snow in Jerusalem too, then?"

Manna had scarcely considered what season of the year it was, so
entirely was she absorbed in the life she was describing. As she turned
to look at the melting snow, a lay-sister entered and handed her a
letter.

"Where is the messenger?" she asked.

"He is waiting in the reception-room."

"I will give him an answer," returned Manna, and began to read her
letter a second time.

She paced the cell backwards and forwards; at one moment she wanted to
seek the Lady Superior and ask what she should do, but the next, her
heart shrank at the thought. Why ask advice of another human being? She
looked at her hand, which had been pressed upon her eyes. You cannot
weep, said a voice within her; you must not weep for aught in this
world.

"What is the matter?" cried Heimchen from the bed. "What makes you look
so cross?"

"I am not cross, I am not cross; do you think I am?"

"No; now you look pleasant again. Stay with me, Manna--stay with me;
don't go away--stay with me, Manna. Manna, shall die."

Manna bent over the child and soothed her. This is the first trial, she
thought, and it is a hard one. Now I must show whether love of mankind,
of the Saviour, is stronger in me than family affection. I ought, I
must! She committed Heimchen to the care of a lay-sister, and,
promising soon to return, descended to the church. At sight of the
picture, which made her think involuntarily of the man who was with
Roland, she covered her face with her hands, threw herself in deep
contrition upon her knees, and prayed fervently. Thus she lay long, her
face buried in her hands. At length her decision was made, and she
rose. I ought and must, and I can! I must have strength for it! I am
resolved to live only for the service of the Eternal. Roland has good
care taken of him; he rec