Klondyke to me to hear that girl's prayer_. She couldn't eat, and I
didn't do much better. The rest of the day Lucy spent in writing a
long, long letter to her parents. If I remember right, she covered
thirty pages of ordinary letter paper.

Bedtime arrived.

"Where am I to sleep, Mother dear?" Lucy inquired. "With me, Lucy, here
in the folding-bed," I answered.

"Mother, do you mean it? Would you let me sleep with you?"

"Why not, dear? You're my honored guest. You're my spiritual daughter.
Jesus says, 'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of
these, ye have done it unto me.' Don't you understand, Lucy? In
entertaining you, I am entertaining Jesus."

"My! Mother, how you must love me! Oh but God will bless you for this!"

Sure-enough he has, over and over, countless times, aye, even up to the
present moment. We shall hear more of Lucy in the next chapter.




CHAPTER XV.

WE PLAN FOR A HOME FOR RELEASED PRISON GIRLS.