"Well, don’t tell her, please, in case it falls through, but grandmother thinks I might write to Miss Buckingham, and perhaps she would overlook it this once and let Lily go back." Monica spoke earnestly, and there was no hint of pride in her tones, neither did she say that it had taken a good deal of persuasion to get Mrs. Beauchamp to consent to let her write on her school-fellow’s behalf. "Oh, Miss Beauchamp, my dear, if you only would!" ejaculated Mrs. Howell, delight and incredulity struggling for the mastery in both tones and countenance. "But it does seem strange that you that’s been injured should be the one to do us a good turn. I can’t think why you should!" And she looked searchingly into the flushed face opposite her, as if she would find the motive written upon it. Monica was sorely tempted to make just a mere commonplace reply, but she summoned up all the courage she could, and gave Mrs. Howell the real reason, realising that this was an opportunity afforded her of witnessing to her new Master. "I don’t know whether you know Him, dear Mrs. Howell," she said, a trifle nervously, but with intense earnestness, "but while I was away I accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as my Saviour, and He has forgiven me so much, that I can’t help forgiving everybody else. And I think He told me to show Lily how I feel, by trying to do this. Oh, I do hope Miss Buckingham will make it right! I almost think she will." "Oh, my dear, my dear!" said Mrs. Howell, tremulously, in her eagerness clutching hold of Monica’s hands; "you’ve found some One I’ve been wanting for years! My heart’s just breaking for want of peace." And in very simple fashion, for it was all such new and unaccustomed work to her, Monica tried to feed this hungry, longing soul with the Bread of Life. She felt so helpless, but trusting to the Holy Spirit’s guidance, she repeated a great deal of the sermon which she would never forget; and Mrs. Howell seemed to literally drink it all in. "God bless you, my dear," she murmured, as Monica at length rose in haste, having discovered that the time arranged for her to meet the carriage was already past--"God bless and reward you for all you’ve done. I’ve been a sinful woman, all my life, but please God this shall be the beginning of better things." Monica hurried down the hill, a song of thanksgiving in her heart, and a happy smile flickering about her lips. How delightful this new life was! Not for anything would she go back now to the careless, thoughtless days of the past, when she had given others such endless trouble, and been so discontented and miserable herself. She felt as if she loved everybody, that beautiful September day, and as if it would be impossible ever to displease any one again.