MARY DUNLAP, left alone in the big beautiful room with the echo of the scornful young words, and the echo of that slammed door hurting into her soul, suddenly rested her elbow on the arm of the chair in which she sat, and dropped her tired head upon her hand. With closed eyes she prayed, her soul crying out from the depth of her failure. She had done her best for this little sister and she had utterly failed. Now she called upon her Father for sustaining strength, for light, for guidance, for calmness in the midst of despair; for the headstrong blinded girl, and for the worn despairing mother. Then out of her despair came peace, and suddenly a knowledge that the Father cared more than she did, even more than the stricken mother. She became aware of the entrance of that mother, quietly, like a little sad wraith. Lifting her head she tried to smile but failed. "It was no use!" she said sadly, "She would not believe a word that I said." "Oh, my dear strong friend!" breathed the little mother, "What should I do without you? I have been praying while you were down here. I cannot think my little girl is to be allowed to go to destruction, or lose her mind, or anything. She is a child of the covenant. Her father and I dedicated her to the Lord when she was born. He cannot desert us! You don't think He would let her go like this, do you? She is—a church-member—of course—and has always seemed—a Christian. Haven't I a right to claim His promises for my child?" "You certainly have," said the strong hearty voice. "Come let us kneel down now and claim that promise, 'Where two of you shall agree as touching anything that they shall ask it shall be done for them of my Father.'" So the two women knelt hand in hand beside the couch and poured out their hearts in prayer for the foolish girl, till it seemed that their yearning words must be already spread before the mercy seat, and perhaps the swift answer on its way; and new strength and courage came into the mother's heart. Upstairs there were hurrying footsteps for a few minutes, and then silence, but if the two petitioners heard them it was only to be thankful that they were not the regular measured frantic tread that had been going back and forth all day. Perhaps she was resting at last. They rose with a peace upon their faces. "Now," said Mary Dunlap, "it is time you went to bed and to sleep. We have put the whole matter in the Father's hands and we cannot do anything else till He shows us. Suppose you run upstairs and see if she is all right, and then, if she is resting, I will go back to the hotel and let you get to bed, for I'm sure I won't be needed any more to-night." "You have been so wonderful!" murmured Mrs. Sheldon. "What should I have done without you? Why not stay here to-night? Our guest room is always ready, and then we can talk things over in the morning."