“That is impossible. Neither my daughter, nor my daughter-in-law, if I had one, could ever come to a servant’s position,” Mrs. Richards replied, not harshly, for there was something in Adah’s manner which rode down her resentful pride; and she might have yielded, but for Eudora, whose hands had so ached to shake the little child, now innocently picking at a bud. How she did long to box his ears, and while her mother talked, she had taken a step forward more than once, but stopped as often, held in check by the little face and soft blue eyes turned so trustingly upon her, the pretty lips once actually putting themselves toward her, as if expecting a kiss. Eudora could not harm that child sitting on her embroidery as coolly as if he had a right: but she could prevent her mother from granting the stranger’s request; so when she saw signs of yielding, she said, decidedly, “She cannot see Anna, mother. You know how foolish she is, and there’s no telling what fancy she might take.” “Eudora,” said Mrs. Richards in a low tone, “it might be well for Anna to have a maid, and this one is certainly different from the others who have applied.” “But we can’t be bothered with a child. It would drive us crazy.” “Yes, certainly, I did not think of that. A child would be very troublesome,” Mrs. Richards rejoined. “So madam, you see how impossible it is for us to keep you, but you can of course stay till car-time, when Jim will carry you back to the depot.” She said this so decidedly that all hope died out of Adah’s heart and she felt as if she were going to faint with the crushing disappointment. Just then the door bell rang. It was the doctor, come to visit Anna, and both Mrs. Richards and Eudora left the room. “Oh, why did I come here, and where shall I go?” Adah moaned, as a sense of her lonely condition came over her. She knew she would be welcome in Kentucky, but Hugh could not afford to have her back, and she had so counted on helping him with her first wages. “Will my Father in Heaven direct me? will he tell me what to do?” she murmured brokenly, praying softly to herself that a way might be opened for her, a path which she could tread. She could not help herself. All her dependence now was in her God, and in trusting him she found rest at last.