_EVERY_ home for friendless children, every sin or poverty-blighted ward and almost every hovel, garret and cellar where evil and squalor shrunk from observation were searched for the missing child, but in vain. No trace of him could be found. The agony of suspense into which Edith's mind was brought was beginning to threaten her reason. It was only by the strongest effort at self-compulsion that she could keep herself to duty among the poor and suffering, and well for her it was that she did not fail here; it was all that held her to safe mooring. One day, as she was on her way home from some visit of mercy, a lady who was passing in a carriage called to her from the window, at the same time ordering her driver to stop. The carriage drew up to the sidewalk. “Come, get in,” said the lady as she pushed open the carriage door. “I was thinking of you this very moment, and want to have some talk about our children's hospital. We must have you on our ladies' visiting committee.” Edith shook her head, saying, “It won't be possible, Mrs. Morton. I am overtaxed now, and must lessen, instead of increasing, my work.” “Never mind, about that now. Get in. I want to have some talk with you.” Edith, who knew the lady intimately, stepped into the carriage and took a seat by her side. “I don't believe you have ever been to our hospital,” said the lady as the carriage rolled on. “I'm going there now, and want to show you how admirably everything is conducted, and what a blessing it is to poor suffering children.” “It hurts me so to witness suffering in little children,” returned Edith, “that it seems as if I couldn't bear it much longer. I see so much of it.” “The pain is not felt as deeply when we are trying to relieve that suffering,” answered her friend. “I have come away from the hospital many times after spending an hour or two among the beds, reading and talking to the children, with an inward peace in my soul too deep for expression. I think that Christ draws very near to us while we are trying to do the work that he did when he took upon himself our nature in, the world and stood face to face visibly with men--nearer to us, it may be, than at any other time; and in his presence there is peace--peace that passeth understanding.”