graduated and came to live with this aunt. I remember her as a
bright, buoyant and very intelligent girl. I have not seen her now
during two months; and last week I asked Miss Adams what had become
of her niece. Then the poor woman broke into sobs and told me the
sad state of affairs. It seems that the girl Marah is her daughter.
The poor mother had believed she could guard the truth from her
child, and had educated her as her niece, and was now prepared to
enjoy her companionship, when some mischief-making gossip dug up the
old scandal and imparted the facts to Marah.

"The girl came to Miss Adams and demanded the truth, and the mother
confessed. Then the daughter settled into a profound melancholy,
from which nothing seemed to rouse her. She will not go out, remains
in the house, and broods constantly over her disgrace.

"It occurred to me that if Marah Adams could be brought out of
herself and interested in some work, or study, it would be the
salvation of her reason. Her mother told me she is an accomplished
musician, but that she refuses to touch her piano now. I thought you
might take her as an understudy on the organ, and by your influence
and association lead her out of herself. You could make her
acquaintance through approaching the mother who is a milliner, on
business, and your tact would do the rest. In all my large and
wealthy congregation I know of no other woman to whom I could appeal
for aid in this delicate matter, so I am sure you will pardon me. In
fact, I fear were the matter to be known in the congregation at all,
it would lead to renewed pain and added hurts for both Miss Adams and
her daughter. You know women can be so cruel to each other in subtle
ways, and I have seen almost death-blows dealt in church aisles by
one church member to another."