"What am I to do?" she sobbed. "I do want to serve God, and make sure that I am a Christian indeed, and not in name only. I am sure I am in earnest, and yet nothing but trouble seems to follow what I do. And then the work is not so pleasant as I expected to find it. The girls in my Sunday class are often tiresome and disobedient, and people take my tracts as though they did not care whether they had them or not. And I never did like needlework, so that the sewing class and the Dorcas garments I bring home to finish are often a real trouble to me. I think I shall have to give it all up." And then Mabel lifted her head, and the fragrance of the coffee proved too strong a temptation to be resisted any longer, and to her own vexation she found that she could eat her breakfast after all. —————— CHAPTER II. THE INVITATION. AFTER breakfast Mabel sat down and wrote a letter to Mrs. Rose, saying she must give up all the work she had undertaken, for she was not fit to do it. But before the letter was finished, her mother came into the room, and Mabel instantly handed it to her. Mrs. Randolph smiled as she read it. "Impulsive as usual, Mabel," she said. "But I do not think Mrs. Rose ought to be made the victim of it to this extent, my dear." "What do you mean, mamma? I thought you wished me to give up all outside work," exclaimed Mabel. "I did not wish you to undertake it, my dear, but having done so, you cannot throw it up for a mere whim, a mere caprice. Go and see Mrs. Rose, and tell her you have undertaken too much, and ask her to relieve you of the visiting and the Dorcas work, but continue your Sunday-school class for the present." Mabel did not look very pleased. "I thought you wanted me to devote my time to helping you, mamma," she said rather crossly. "My dear, I do wish you to help me, for I am anxious to lessen the household expenses as much as I can." And Mrs. Randolph spoke very earnestly. "Mamma, what is it? What is the matter?" asked Mabel, noticing the change in her mother's voice. "Perhaps it is better you should know it," said Mrs. Randolph with a sigh, "but I do not wish to burden you with care and anxiety. Only, if you understand exactly how things are, Mabel, you will be the more ready to help—the more willing to do whatever your father thinks will be best for the future." "But, mother, what is it?" asked Mabel in alarm, instantly jumping to the conclusion that they were on the verge of ruin. "Are—are we ruined?" she gasped. Mrs. Randolph could not help laughing at her impulsive daughter. "Not quite so bad as that, Mabel," she said. "But business is not improving—it is growing less and less every year, while our household expenses are increasing." "Then, mamma, what are we to do?" said Mabel. "That is the question your father and I often ask each other—How are the children to be educated, and household expenses curtailed? And it cannot be done without your help, Mabel."