CHAPTER XVIII. MORE WORK. "I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work."-JOHN ix. 4. "A sacred burden is the life ye bear; "Arouse thee, soul! God made not thee to sleep Thy hour of earth in doing nought away; Oh, use it for His glory, while you may. "Arouse thee, soul! And let the body do Some worthy deed for human happiness, To join when life is through Unto thy name, that angels both may bless! "Arouse thee, soul! Or sleep for evermore, And be what all nonentities have been, Crawl on till life is o'er ! If to be aught but this thou e'er dost mean, "WHAT ails you this morning?" and the voice which uttered these words was clear, brusque and decided, with a slight Scotch in tonation, and the hand which was placed on Lady Elinor's shoulder causing her to start out of her reverie, was large and rather brown, though beautifully formed. Voice and hand belonged to a tall, slender girl, with dark beautiful face, who, in riding - habit, and black plumed hat, had passed unperceived through the large drawing-room into the little writing-room, which had been turned into a boudoir. It was now no strange place for Juliet Gordon to find herself in. A deep and tender friendship had rapidly sprung up between the two girls. Both reserved, shy, apparently haughty; both conscious of their faults, both with the same high aims, both long debarred from interchange of confidence and friendship,—the charm of intimate and unreserved companionship was a new era in the life of both. Elinor was not afraid of Juliet, as most girls of her own age were, for she understood at once the secret of the somewhat eccentric manner which was so often misunderstood,while Juliet in return gave a degree of sym pathy which Leslie North, with her charm of easy, unembarrassed manner and brilliant social powers, could not have afforded. Lady Elinor's attitude and expression during the reverie thus unceremoniously disturbed, might resemble strongly those of the old days of the Turret Boudoir, yet in the subjects of meditation there was a wide difference. What wonder, however, though there were yet some hauntings of that evil genius Self, who had then been paramount, and still lived to be troublesome, though in comparative subjection. "What ails you?" again asked the clear voice; "out with it." 66 Oh, Juliet, I am so discouraged about Phemy Walker, that young girl from the poorhouse I was so interested in.” "What's come to her ?" "I have had her up here every Sunday evening, and I had such hopes of her, and when she left the poorhouse a month ago, the housekeeper got a place for her with Mrs. Mylne the grocer's wife, and she has been behaving so ill, and has been turned out of the house in disgrace." 66 66 Poor child!" Oh, but Gibbons says that Mrs. Mylne says that she's very naughty, and that she only pretended to love her Bible to please me, and she would not do any work, and went to the fair when she was forbidden." Was she fitted to be a servant ?" Oh, I don't know," answered Lady Elinor, opening her eyes very wide. "I mean," said Juliet impatiently, "did she know anything of washing and ironing, and scrubbing and cooking?" "I don't know," repeated Lady Elinor helplessly. "But you ought to know; you must know. How can you ever do any good anywhere, unless you do know ?" Lady Elinor was tired, discouraged, and depressed, and this put the finishing stroke to her spirits, so her head sank upon her clasped hands, and she could scarcely keep back her tears, as she said,— "That's just it. I can't do any good; everything I try fails; I never get on among the people; I feel so miserably weak." 66 "Of course, you'll never do any good till you stop the I, I's and go to the THOU, THOU'S," and Juliet's energy roused her friend; she looked up and felt rebuked by the calm, bright, trusting spirit that shone through those noble, dark eyes. "Yes! you are right; I have been looking to Self again. THOU,' not I, shall be my motto; but oh, Juliet, is it not difficult to live! I sometimes think that it requires much more faith and strength than to die, and we are so young and may live so long." "Life is a gift, not a burden." "But why does it feel a burden so often? One does so long for the wings of a dove to fly away, and be at rest.” "Like Phemy Walker who wouldn't do her work, and went to the fair against her mistress's will; she loved herself, and not her mistress." 66 Oh, what a comparison !" said Elinor in |