Faith was summoned that night to the home of a widow whose only child was passing away; for the clear, far-seeing eyes of Faith could see the soul depart and take on its heavenly form. It was a great comfort to the bereaved in hours like those to have her near. "I wonder how we lived without her," were household words, and words which she could hear without any semblance of vainglory; for her soul was too deeply impressed with the magnitude of her mission to allow her to be elated or depressed by any remark that might be made. Faith's eyes followed the dying boy far into the realms of light. She wiped the mother's tears away, and disclosed to her sight the way the soul had fled, while Hope stood by to assure her that the parting was not forever. The two tarried through the night with the mother, and when friends came to bury the dead form she had learned that "the grave is not the goal." The sisters toiled together many years. They wove beautiful truths into the minds of the people, till the once dark condition of earth seemed passing rapidly away. People grew trustful, and less gloomy: yet, with all the teachings of Faith, and the cheering words of Hope, they failed to exercise the right feelings at all times towards each other. The sisters sat by the wayside one evening, after a hard day's toil, their eyes lifted to the stars, which seemed to look lovingly on them. They sat without words, while each possessed the same unspoken wish. They both longed for their sister, who at that moment was thinking earnestly of them. Faith glanced from the stars to the scarcely less brilliant eyes of Hope, and a few tears fell over her face. Even Hope sighed, and almost wished herself back to her starry home with her father. "Are you sorry, Hope, that you came to earth?" asked Faith, tenderly. "No: but I was thinking--" "I know your thought: it must be the same as my own," said Faith. "Yes, our sister--" Hope ventured thus far. "Charity come too." Faith finished the sentence. "Just my wish," said Hope, rejoiced to find they had the same desire. "I see," said Faith, "that we are all needed here to make our work complete," while the brilliant eyes of Hope spoke more than words. "I have felt for a long time," answered Hope, "that another element, softer, sweeter, and finer than ours, was needful for the people." "Do you suppose that father would spare Charity, too?" asked Hope of her sister. "I know he would, if convinced that earth's people would receive her." "Why, Faith, you speak with such confidence!" "Because I know how good our father is, as you do yourself, Hope. If needed, she will come," said Faith, trustingly, thinking of her own experience that lonely night. "Charity is so delicate," said Hope, a little doubtfully, "I do not quite see how she could endure this cold clime." "She could not without our presence to sustain her," answered Faith.