hours? to watch our Father's Spirit working in the lives and natures of
the outcast? Truly it is marvelous, marvelous! Soon I will relate the
story of one of our family, but before I do so, permit me to give you
my first Sunday's experience. I think it will be interesting.

I arrived at the home on Tuesday. On Friday morning, Sister B----, the
sick matron, said as I stood by her bedside: "Sister Roberts, all our
family of girls whose health will permit are in the habit of attending
Sunday morning worship in one of the churches; in the afternoon, those
who wish, attend the mission; and in the evening we have prayer-service
at home. I shall not, as you know, be able to go with them for some
time to come. That duty devolves upon you, dear, for the present."
Imagine, if you can, my feelings. "Sister, I fail to see that the Lord
requires any such sacrifice on my part," I impulsively replied. "I
think it sufficient to work with and for them _here_ in the home. What
would my former society friends say or think should any chance to meet
me with them?" And the tears of (righteous?) indignation filled my
eyes. "My dear," she gently replied, "take a little time in your room
alone with God. He will make it clear, what he would have you to do."

Soon I was locked in, where I sat for a few moments on the side of my
little bed, as rebellious and indignant as ever I was in all my life.

When I grew somewhat calmer, I fell upon my knees and sobbed out my
troubles at the foot of the cross. Painfully, I at last submitted,
_provided it was the will of God_; and in my prayer I requested
"_Should such be thy will_, please see that none of my friends of
social standing chance to cross my pathway on this occasion." Then I
arose from my knees.