Helen went to her room, saying good-night to a group of girls. She crossed over to her window and stood there many minutes. Oh, a picture like this could never be painted. The moon had come up and the tree-tops were clusters of frosted jewels. Such little nooks of almost black shade, such translucent green where the branches were thin. And the meadows, and the far-off fields, the houses within range! Was she far away in some unknown region? Was this a book she had been reading and would she shut it up and find herself in Hope again? There was such a sweetness and newness and beauty about it all, such a glow in her heart, speeding through every nerve at the wonderful happening. This lovely home, these pretty, merry girls, music, books, and a kind of living that filled and satisfied. Six months ago she was Helen Grant, was she really someone else now? She felt so, as if there had been some strange metamorphosis. And that delightful, enchanting week in New York. Oh, how full of pleasure and happiness the world must be if a few little spaces could contain so much! And that she could have a share in the real blessedness of it! Was that the big clock striking the half hour? One was to stop reading or studying at that warning and prepare for bed. Dreaming too, tempting as the picture was. Helen had always "said her prayers." A wonder as to the real virtue of this had occasionally crossed her mind. So far she had only known a religion of habit; like the other habits of life. To-night a new thought possessed her. Did she owe this simply to Mrs. Van Dorn? If all good and perfect things came from God then this that was so supremely delightful, so almost marvelous of its kind must have been put in the kindly heart by some higher power. She was curiously awed. Uncle Jason and Aunt Jane were church members, but religion had very little power in their lives. Yet Aunt Jane brought up her children to be strictly honest, and any bald falsehood she truly believed she despised. But injustice or the refusal to see the other side of the question was not connected in her mind with truthfulness. Like many other people the things she believed in and wanted, were right, not only for her, but others must be fitted to the measure. So Helen knew very little of the higher meaning of the word.