, for Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me. Surely
goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I'll
dwell in Thy house forever, O Lord--Amen."

For a time she lay open-eyed in her little white bed. A flood of
moonlight came through the window to her pillow. She felt that it was a
shining benediction from our Lord Himself. And indeed it may have been.
Gradually her eyes closed. She smiled as she slept.

The grace of God continued to be there when she awoke. It seemed an
unusual morning. The sun was brighter than on ordinary mornings; the
birds outside were twittering more loudly; even the lawnmower which
black Jeff was already rolling over the grass had assumed a peculiarly
agreeable clatter. And though, at breakfast, father grumbled at his eggs
being overdone, and though mother complained that the laundress hadn't
come, and though Aunt Nettie's head was still aching, all these things,
somehow, seemed trivial and of no importance.

Missy could scarcely wait to get her dusting and other little "chores"
done, so that she might go to the piano.

However, she hadn't got half-way through "One Sweetly Solemn Thought"
before her mother appeared.

"Missy! what in the world do you mean? I've told you often enough you
must finish your practising before strumming at other things."

Strumming!

But Missy said nothing in defence. She only hung her head. Her mother
went on:

"Now, I don't want to speak to you again about this. Get right to your
exercises--I hope I won't have to hide that hymn-book!"

Mother's voice was stern. The laundress's defection and other domestic
worries may have had something to do with it. But Missy couldn't
consider that; she was too crushed. In stricken silence she attacked the
"exercises."

Not once during that day had she a chance to let out, through music, any
of her surcharged devotionalism. Mother kept piling on her one errand
after another. Mother was in an unwonted flurry; for the next day was
the one she and Aunt Nettie were going to Junction City and there were,
as she put it, "a hundred and one things to do."

Through all those tribulations Missy reminded herself of "Thy rod and
Thy staff." She didn't yet know just what these aids to comfort were;
but the Psalmist had said of them, "they shall comfort me." And,
somehow, she did find comfort. That is what Faith does.

And that night, after she had said her prayers and got into bed, once
more the grace of God rode