"Well, it is. Mr. Porter asked me to see their new law-office to-day. They have just moved into the Clifton Block. They have an elegant place. As I looked around, making mental notes of all the fine furnishings, I thought of you, and wished you had such a position. I asked him if he needed a stenographer. It was a random shot, for I had no idea they did. The young man they have has been there so long, I considered him a fixture. To my surprise he told me the fellow is going into business for himself, and the place will be open next week. I told him I could fill it for him to his supreme satisfaction. He promised to give you the refusal of it until to-morrow noon. I leave to-night on a business-trip, or I would take you over and introduce you." "O, thank you, Cousin Frank!" she exclaimed. "I know Mr. Edmunds very well. He was a warm friend of papa's." Then she added, impulsively: "Yesterday I thought I had come to such a dark place that I couldn't see my hand before my face. I was just so blue and discouraged I was ready to give up, and now the way has grown so plain and easy, all at once, I feel that I must be living in a dream." "Bless your brave little soul!" he exclaimed, holding out his hand. "Why didn't you come to me with your troubles? Remember I am always glad to smooth the way for you, just as much as lies in my power." When he had gone, Bethany crept away into the quiet twilight of the library, and, kneeling before the big arm-chair, laid her head in its cushioned seat. "O Father," she whispered, "I am so ashamed of myself to think I ever doubted thee for one single moment. Forgive me, please, and help me through every hour of every day to trust unfalteringly in thy great love and goodness." CHAPTER VII. JUDGE HALLAM'S DAUGHTER, STENOGRAPHER. THERE was so much to be done next morning, setting the rooms all in order for the critical inspection of Miss Caroline and Miss Harriet, that Bethany had little time to think of the dreaded interview with Porter & Edmunds. She wheeled Jack out into the shady, vine-covered piazza, and brought him a pile of things for him to amuse himself with in her absence. "Ring your bell for Mena if you need anything else," she said. "I will be back before the sun gets around to this side of the house, maybe in less than an hour." He caught at her dress with a detaining grasp, and a troubled look came over his face. "O sister! I just thought of it. If you do get that place, will I have to stay here all day by myself?" "O no," she answered. "Mena can wheel you around the garden, and wait on you; and I will think of all sorts of things to keep you busy. Then the old ladies will be here, and I am sure they will be kind to you. I'll be home at noon, and we'll have lovely long evenings together."