"Is that all, girlie?" put in Mrs. Drury, who was much amused at the comparisons, but felt they were truthfully if somewhat quaintly made. "Oh, no! There’s Lily Howell, just _think_ how she’s altered. I don’t believe any one would know her nowadays who knew her then; she’s so well behaved, and speaks quietly, and seldom gets into trouble at school. I’m so glad Mrs. Howell buys plain hats and things for her now," Amethyst ran on. "I don’t believe she could help being vulgar when she wore such hideously gaudy hats and dresses." "What has Lily’s clothing to do with the bicycle accident? You have wandered a long way from that," remarked her mother, with a smile. "Oh, mumsie, I haven’t! It’s just because Lily wants to copy everything Monica does now, that she is so much more lady-like. I think she nearly worships Monica." "Hush, Amethyst! Don’t speak like that, dear," reproved her mother; "I can quite understand that Lily feels she owes a good deal to her. I hope that she will one day be a star in Monica’s crown. I am so glad that they have begun to attend St. Paul’s." "Mrs. Howell and Lily were both at church twice last Sunday, mumsie, and Mr. Howell was there in the evening. I remember noticing him, because I did think father must have chosen his text on purpose for him, only of course he didn’t, because he couldn’t possibly have known he would be there." And Mrs. Drury, who had vivid recollections of the intense earnestness with which her husband had preached from Mark viii. 36, on the subject of Eternal Profit and Loss, said, softly, as they turned in at the Vicarage gates: "Father always asks God to give him the right text to preach from, girlie, and _He_ knew just who would be hearing the sermon." Shrewd little Amethyst had been fairly correct in her rough-and-ready epitome of the happenings of the last six months, which had certainly left their mark on all concerned, and, in every case, for the better, to a greater or smaller degree. The missionary working-party prospered and increased, and, by the time Christmas drew near, the number of members had risen to fourteen; quite a large drawer full of "gifts" had been already neatly and carefully made, and the Expenses Fund was almost exhausted! The committee began to consider how it was to be replenished, and hazy ideas of "collecting" (which they dreaded) or else having a little sale of work during the Christmas holidays, formed in their enthusiastic minds. But they were still only ideas, when, one Saturday afternoon, Lily Howell, who, upon one pretext or another, had waited until all but the quartette had gone, slipped a sealed envelope into Monica’s hand, and merely whispering: "Pa told me to give it to you," was gone before the astonished girl could say a word. The excitement of the committee when they found that the envelope contained a cheque for £10, "To be used for your Chinese folks, and ask for more when you want it," was tremendous.