She made no reply to Isabel, and soon her thoughts wandered off to her monetary difficulties again. These were too pressing just now to be lightly dismissed, even for the all-important subject that now engaged Isabel's attention. Not that Mabel had forgotten it herself. She had practised too much soul dissection lately, turning herself inside out as it were, to know whether she had received this seed of grace. And the words, "'Tis a point I long to know," repeated themselves with painful reiteration through the chambers of her brain. They found nurse at home this time, and she eagerly welcomed her young lady, and would have monopolized all her attention if she could. But Isabel slipped away after a few minutes, on the plea of going to see Mrs. Barker in her own room, as she had a bad cold, and could not come down-stairs to-day. "You tell nurse all about the party, Mabel, while I go and see Mrs. Barker," she said, kissing her old nurse by way of reconciling her to the plan. And then she ran up-stairs and eagerly greeted Mrs. Barker. "I want you to tell me something more about that parable of the sower," she said when all due inquiries had been made and answered. The old woman looked at the flushed eager young face and wondered. "My dear young lady, have you not read it for yourself?" she asked. "Yes, yes," said Isabel, "but I want to know the sort of people God puts his seed into—the Holy Spirit that you told us about." "The sort of people?" repeated Mrs. Barker. "My dear, the words are plain enough. The seed fell on all sorts of ground—hard rocky soil, loose stony soil, and soft earth, where it could sink down and grow. So I take it that all sorts of people are meant—that God plants his seed in the heart of every man, and woman, and child. And that if all would nurture it—take away the weeds of pride and worldliness, so that the sunshine of God's love could fall upon it and the rain and the air which are so many influences from Him play about it,— then would it grow in the hearts of all men, and the kingdom that we pray for would come to each of us, and heaven be begun on earth." The old woman spoke almost rapturously, and Isabel sat and listened with an eager light in her eyes. "And you think God has really planted this seed in my heart?" she said in an awestruck whisper. "I have not a doubt of it, my dear." "But—but I am so unworthy, so ignorant, so—oh, I don't know what it means hardly," said Isabel in a tremulous voice. "My dear, if God waited until we were worthy before giving us this precious gift, I am afraid very few would have it." "And if there is not time for the seed to grow and have fruit, you think He will not be angry if there are only green blades?"