man, breaking in on his reverie with the clearest of voices:--

"I beg your pardon,--but are you thinking of your sister? You are Mr.
Ried, I believe? I have heard of your sister's life, and of her
beautiful death, through a dear friend of my husband, who loved Ester. I
have always wanted to know more about her. I wanted to get acquainted
with you, so I might ask you things about her. I am waiting now for my
husband to come and introduce us. But perhaps it isn't necessary. Do you
know who I am?"

"It is Mrs. Roberts, I believe?" the young man said, struggling with his
astonishment and embarrassment.

"Yes, and you are Mr. Alfred Ried. Well, now we know each other without
any further ceremony. Will you tell me a little about your sister, Mr.
Ried? You were thinking of her just now."

"I was missing her just now," said he, trying to smile, "as I very often
am. I was a little fellow when she died; but the older I grow the more
difficult I find it to see how the world can spare her. She was so full
of plans for work, and there are so few like her."

"It may be that she is working still, in the person of her brother."

He shook his head energetically, though his face flushed.

"No, I can only blunder vaguely over work that I know she, with her
energetic ways and quick wits, could have done, and done well. It
happens that she was especially interested in a class of people of whom
I know something. They need help, and I don't know how to help them. It