A group of them were sitting on a bank of flowers, resting in the shade, and as they talked I drew near to listen. "I do not believe it," said a sturdy little boy, as he threw a ball of flowers into the lap of a little maiden opposite. "What do you not believe?" asked a grave-looking girl who was seated near. "That there is any hurry to get the pitchers filled." "Did any one say there was?" asked the girl, glancing thoughtfully at the vessel hanging at her side, while I perceived that it had the look of being neglected and soiled. "Yes, there was a proclamation this morning that the pitchers might be needed this very day, and that all who had not the Golden Oil should, without delay, repair to the place whence it could be obtained." "So there is every day," exclaimed a tall youth who was lying on the grass at their feet. "That is nothing new: it is the duty of the Herald to proclaim, and it is our duty to hear, but----" "No one ever thinks of obeying," laughed the roguish boy, weaving his flowers as if all his life were centred in doing that only. But the thoughtful girl looked up with a deep flush at those careless words. "I do not think _every one_ does that, Ashton; for Esther here----" She pointed to a child at a little distance who was threading daisies together wherewith to deck a tiny brother, who sat watching her little fingers with absorbed interest. Now that my attention was directed to this little girl, I took note of her for the first time. Her dress was of some white material, her eyes clear as the deep summer azure, her face full of sunshine, while close to her heart a golden pitcher gleamed in the light, as her happy little figure turned backwards and forwards in her task. "Oh, Esther always obeys!" said the youth from the grass, "and is the happiest little mortal in doing so; but that would not suit every one." He turned round restlessly, and any one who cared might see that his pitcher was empty enough as it lay on the ground under his arm. Esther was all unconscious that the eyes of the party were fixed upon her. When she had completed her chain of daisies, she took her little brother's hand in hers. "Now, darling," she said softly, "you promised me you would go at once to get your little pitcher filled." He nodded and trotted off by her side, while she continued, "It would be so sad not to have any Oil when night comes on, wouldn't it?" "But you could lend me some," answered the child, confident in her love. "You know I can't; I must not; no one can lend. So that is why I want you to get some for yourself." As they turned round to go towards the place where I imagined the Golden Oil was to be obtained, I saw another strange thing about these children which I had not noticed before; each carried, fastened to the same girdle, a tiny lamp. I looked round to enquire the meaning of it all, but found myself unable to speak; so I could do nothing but follow the two children to see what would become of them.