Lucy longed to know that her own little sister was saved; but somehow,
when she left the hall, courage to speak of spiritual matters forsook
her. Six months passed away, and she had not spoken to Kate about her
soul. At home, she endeavoured to live for Jesus; she sang Army songs
whenever she was in the house; but to speak to her dear ones about their
souls seemed impossible. She had 'lock-jaw' at the very thought. The
Saviour's face had seemed every day to shine upon Lucy; but now a cloud
was coming between, and she knew the reason.

One evening, Mrs. Lee having some business which took her from home, the
sisters were left alone. 'Lord, this is my chance; help me to make the
most of it,' Lucy prayed. The gas was lit, the fire cosy, and Lucy went
to the piano and began to play and sing. She chose all the solemn,
convicting songs she could think of, such as--

You'll see the Great White Throne,
And stand before it all alone.

Kate had betaken herself to her favourite place, the hearthrug. She was
silent until Lucy had reached the middle verse of 'Almost persuaded,'
which she sang with due impressiveness. Then a sorrowful little voice
quavered:--

'I'm so lonely. I thought we were going to have _such_ a nice time.'

Lucy at once got up. 'Are you, dearie? Would you like some supper?'

'No, I don't want anything; I'm lonely and miserable,' quavered Kate.