believe she means it, Esther." But I only groaned in answer. "She is
doing a magnificent work in Milnthrope," she continued, "and I feel
so proud that I am allowed to assist her. Do you know, I had twenty
boys in my class this evening; they would come to me, though Miss
Miles' class was nearly empty." And so she went on, until I felt all
over prickles of suppressed nervousness. "Well, good-night," she
said, at last, when I could not he roused into any semblance of
interest; "we shall see which of us be right by-and-by."

"Yes, we shall see," I answered, drowsily; but long after she left I
muttered the words over and over to myself, "We shall see."

Yes, by-and-by the light of Divine truth would flash over our
actions, and in that pure radiance every unworthy work would wither
up to naught--every unblessed deed retreat into outer darkness. Which
would be right, she or I?

I know only too well that, taking the world as a whole, we ought to
_encourage_ Christian parochial work, because too many girls who
possess the golden opportunity of leisure allow it to be wasted, and
so commit the "sin of omission;" but there would have been quite as
much good done had Carrie dutifully helped in our invalid home and
cheered us all to health by her bright presence. And besides, I
myself could then perhaps have taken a class at me night school if
the stocking-mending and the other multitudinous domestic matters
could have allowed it.

The chimes of St. Barnabas were pealing through the midnight air
before I slept. Above was the soft light of countless stars, sown
broadcast over the dark skies. Christmas was come, and the angel's