the grateful eyes, and blessed her for her loyalty.

"Christie, you have done enough for me," she said. "Go back, and
keep the good place you need, for such are hard to find. I can get
on alone; I'm used to this, and the pain will soon be over."

"I'll not go back!" cried Christie, hotly. "I'll do slop-work and
starve, before I'll stay with such a narrow-minded, cold-hearted
woman. Come home with me at once, and let us lay our plans
together."

"No, dear; if I wouldn't go when you first asked me, much less will
I go now, for I've done you harm enough already. I never can thank
you for your great goodness to me, never tell you what it has been
to me. We must part now; but some day I'll come back and show you
that I've not forgotten how you loved and helped and trusted me,
when all the others cast me off."

Vain were Christie's arguments and appeals. Rachel was immovable,
and all her friend could win from her was a promise to send word,
now and then, how things prospered with her.

"And, Rachel, I charge you to come to me in any strait, no matter
what it is, no matter where I am; for if any thing could break my
heart, it would be to know that you had gone back to the old life,
because there was no one to help and hold you up."

"I never can go back; you have saved me, Christie, for you love me,
you have faith in me, and that will keep me strong and safe when you
are gone. Oh, my dear, my dear, God bless you for ever and for