One evening in early December Dorian and his mother were cosily "at home" to any good visitors either of persons or ideas. Dorian was looking over some of his papers. "Mother, listen to this," he said. "Here is a gem from Uncle Zed which I have not seen before." He read: "'The acquisition of wealth brings with it the obligation of helping the poor; the acquisition of knowledge brings with it the obligation of teaching others; the acquisition of strength and power brings with it the obligation of helping the weak. This is what God does when He says that His work and His glory is to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man'." "How true that is," said the mother. "Yes," added Dorian after a thoughtful pause, "I am just wondering how and to what extent I am fulfilling any obligation which is resting on me by reason of blessings I am enjoying. Let's see--we are not rich, but we meet every call made on us by way of tithing and donations; we are not very wise, but we impart of what we have by service; we are not very strong--I fear, mother, that's where I lack. Am I giving of my strength as fully as I can to help the weak. I don't know--I don't know." "You mean Carlia?" "Yes; what am I doing besides thinking and praying for her?" "What more can we do?" "Well, I can try doing something more." "What, for instance!" "Trying to find her." "But her father has done that." "Yes; but he has given up too soon. I should continue the search. I've been thinking about that lately. I can't stay cosily and safely at home any longer, mother, when Carlia may be in want of protection." "And what would you be liable to find if you found her?" That question was not new to his own mind, although his mother had not asked it before. Perhaps, in this case, ignorance was more bliss than knowledge. Whatever had happened to her, would it not be best to have the pure image of her abide with him? But he know when he thought of it further that such a conclusion was not worthy of a strong man. He should not be afraid even of suffering if it came in the performance of duty. That very night Dorian had a strange dream, one unusual to him because he remembered it so distinctly the day after. He dreamed that he saw Mildred in what might well be called the heavenly land. She seemed busy in sketching a beautiful landscape and as he approached her, she looked up to him and smiled. Then, as she still gazed at him, her countenance changed and with concern in her voice, she asked, "Where's Carlia?" The scene vanished, and that was all of the dream. In the dim consciousness of waking he seemed to hear Carlia's voice calling to him as it did that winter night when he had left her, not heeding. The call thrilled his very heart again: "Dorian, Dorian, come back--come back!" CHAPTER SIXTEEN.