"A girl told me of a nice place out near Golden Gate Park; only two in family, and twenty-five dollars a month. I called on the lady and she hired me. My but she had a dainty flat! One peculiarity I couldn't help noticing. She was always afraid some one was deceiving or going to deceive her, and would often make the remark, 'No one ever gets the second chance with me, no indeed.' And I used to say to myself, '_I wonder what she would do if she found out who Dollie was?_' She was a Christian. No, I'll take that back. She called herself one, and was the secretary of the ladies' aid of her church. Sometimes we had teas for them, and then she would take them all over the house and brag on my work and me. I knew how to cook pretty well by this time. She taught me. There was nothing I did not do to try and please her. "One day I heard the hall door bang. Some one was coming up-stairs in a great hurry. Next she threw open the kitchen door, and I shall never forget the ugly face of her as she said, while I ran in my bedroom with fright and shut the door, 'Dollie! I want you to pack right up and leave this house, you ---- ----! How dare you impose yourself on me?' Oh! I ran and groveled at her feet; I begged; I cried; I besought her not to turn me away. I told her that I had repented and that God had forgiven my sins and that _if she was a Christian she'd help me_. That only seemed to make her madder than ever. 'Pack up your things and get out. Here's your money. I won't put up with deceit from any one.' "I went into my room, and in my rage and despair tore my clothes off the hooks, emptied the bureau drawers, jammed everything any which way into my trunk, and in my anger went out, called the nearest express man, ordered my baggage to my old address, where the Salvation Army lassie first found me, told all the girls down the row what the Christians were like, and then plunged deeper than ever into a life of sin. _My heart, once so tender, is hardened forever._ Save your tears for some one who is worthy. You can never touch me. I wish to God you could. I must go; but you're welcome to remain and talk to the others, if you think it will do any good. Good-by, lady. Good-by, girls. I'll be back in less than a week"--and she was gone; but oh! could I, could these girls, ever get over this recital and its impression. As soon as I could find my voice, I begged, implored them, not to let that story further influence them on the downward course. I pictured the judgment-day with that woman who turned Dollie away being interrogated by the King of kings, and the terrible doom awaiting all who did not repent and forsake sin; but, apparently making no impression, I soon left, unable to proceed further with the work that day because of the great burden with which this poor girl's story had weighted me.