with noble thoughts. My
child, can you realize, even dimly, what it is to dip into those mines of
wealth--those mines of illimitable wisdom and greatness and strength and
power? Oh, the massiveness of the intellects of the old classic writers!
Their lofty ideas with regard to time and eternity--where can their like
be found?"

Pauline yawned.

"Are you tired?" asked her father.

"No--only worried," she answered.

She did not know why she made the latter remark; but at the same time she
was perfectly well aware that anything she said to her father was safe,
as he would absolutely forget it in the course of the next minute. He was
roused now from his visions of the past by a certain pathos in the little
face. He put his arm round the child and drew her to him.

"My dear, pretty little girl," he said.

"Am I pretty?" asked Pauline.

He gazed at her out of his short-sighted eyes.

"I think not," he said slowly. "I was imagining you were Verena, or
perhaps Briar. Briar is certainly very pretty. No, Pauline, you are not
pretty; you are plain. But never mind; you have perhaps got"--he put a
finger on each temple--"you have perhaps got something greater."

"It doesn't matter if you are plain or not," said Pauline almost crossly,
"when you are awfully worried."

"But what worries you, my child? I would not have one so young subjected
to worries. My dear, is it possible that you already are perplexed with
the ways of this present life? Truly, I am scarcely surprised. The life
we lead in these degenerate days is so poor; the giants have left the
earth, and only the pigmies are left. Don't worry about life, child; it
isn't worth while."

"I am not," said Pauline bluntly. "I am worrying because----"

"Because of what, dear?"

"Because I am going to be desperately naughty."

Mr. Dale shook his head slowly.

"I wouldn't," he said. "It is very uncomfortable and wrong, and it
sullies the conscience. When the conscience gets sullied the nature goes
down--imperceptibly, perhaps, but still it goes down. If your worry is an
affair of the conscience, take it to Him who alone can understand you."

Pauline looked at her father with awed astonishment.

"You mean God?" she said. "Will He help me?"

"Certainly He will. He is the Great Deliverer, and His strength is as
immeasurable as it ever was. He gave power to the martyrs to go through
the flames. He will help a little, weak girl if she asks Him. Oh, my
dear, it has stru