the hiding she could understand. She had been hidden in her time of
trouble. Some one had done it. "He"--the word would fit the man by her
side, for he had helped to hide her, and to save her more than once; but
just now there came a dim perception that it was some other He, some One
greater who had worked this miracle and saved her once more to go on
perhaps to better things.

There were many things said in that meeting, good and wise and true. They
might have been helpful to the girl if she had understood, but her
thoughts had much to do. One grain of truth she had gathered for her
future use. There was a "hiding" somewhere in this world, and she had had
it in a time of trouble. One moment more out upon the open, and the
terrible man might have seen her.

There came a time of prayer in which all heads were bowed, and a voice
here and there murmured a few soft little words which she did not
comprehend; but at the close they all joined in "the prayer"; and, when
she heard the words, "Our Father," she closed her eyes, which had been
curiously open and watching, and joined her voice softly with the rest.
Somehow it seemed to connect her safety with "our Father," and she felt a
stronger faith than ever in her prayer.

The young man listened intently to all he heard. There was something
strangely impressive to him in this simple worship out in what to him was
a vast wilderness. He felt more of the true spirit of worship than he had
ever felt at home sitting in the handsomely upholstered pew beside his
mother and sister while the choir-boys chanted the processional and the
light filtered through costly windows of many colors over the large and
cultivated congregation. There was something about the words of these
people that went straight to the heart more than all the intonings of the