"Oh hearts are bruised and dead, And homes are bare and cold, And lambs for whom the Shepherd bled Are straying from the fold! "To comfort and to bless, To find a balm for woe, To tend the lone and fatherless, Is angels' work below. "The captive to release, To God the lost to bring, To teach the way of life and peace, It is a Christ-like thing. "And we believe Thy word, Though dim our faith may be, Whate'er for Thine we do, O Lord, We do it unto Thee." "I propose an amendment, as the congressmen say," she urged, pleasantly, as she saw Mr. Angus. "Please stay and sing with us, and then I have some pleasant news for you." He joined her instantly at the piano, though she saw that he did so reluctantly. She turned to the all-inspiring words,— "All hail the power of Jesus' name! Let angels prostrate fall." From the tones of his voice, as one verse followed another, she could detect the change in his feelings. In the last stanza it was evident his religious fervor had triumphed over his sadness. The tones, rich and clear, thrilled Marion's heart strangely. Happening to meet his eye as she was closing the book, she saw there evidence of an elevation of soul, as though the sentiments of the hymn had roused him from his gloom. "Thank you," was his low response. "I expect to leave early in the morning," she said. "I shall go immediately to see Dr. B———. Dr. Moore is very hopeful in regard to Mary's cure, though she may always walk lame. She was very grateful that you had thought of sending her to the Home for the Sick." "I am delighted, Miss Howard. You have indeed been an angel of mercy to the poor girl. She speaks of your thoughtful kindness as one of the chief blessings of her life." "Isn't it fortunate that Dr. Moore was once house physician there? and he will convey her to the city himself. No, Mr. Angus," as he held out his purse, "we cannot permit you to have all the pleasure, though we gladly share with you. You have done your part in suggesting the possibility of her restoration, and she has a friend who will defray all expenses. By the way, if you can spare the time, she would be glad of a call from you before she leaves home." "Duties never conflict, Miss Howard. If you were not so busy among your pupils, etc., I would express a wish that you would visit a distressed family I saw to-day. They are in deep waters, and need a kind friend of their own sex." "Who are they?" "Mother, daughter, and grandson,—one of the most beautiful boys I ever saw. The mother is ill, I fear on the verge of consumption. The daughter, whom I conclude is a widow, is too young and beautiful to be left to make her own way in the world. The boy, Eugene, won my heart at once, and under a sudden impulse I asked the mother to give him to me: I am fond of children."