“Now, Hatfield, that’s just like you,” complained Mrs. Hatfield Powers. “I take the trouble to tell you what a good-for-nothing girl she is and then you go and vote for her just for sheer stubbornness. Just to oppose me. Just to show you how wrong you are about money, I paid her _ten dollars_ today for getting that little bit of dinner, and I went so far as to offer her double that if she would come early enough to get breakfast and stay all day tomorrow!” She looked around the room in triumph amid the admiring exclamations of her guests. “Well, I still say she earned her money,” said her husband. Joyce Radway let herself into her little dark room, locked her door, tossed her hat on the box table, flung herself on the heap of newspapers in the corner and burst into heart-breaking sobs. By and by her tears were spent and she grew quieter, and above the tumult of her soul a still small voice seemed saying over the words softly to her troubled heart: “The Eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the Everlasting Arms.” How wonderful that that should come to her now! Once, a long time ago, when she was a little girl and was learning verses with her mother and her aunt, they had told her that these verses they were teaching her were to be stored up for a time of need, and that when any distress came, if they were safely in her heart and memory, they would come out to comfort her or show her the way out of a difficult situation. She had not thought much about it then, but now that all came back. She was in trouble and comfortless, and the verses were coming like a troop of strong angels to comfort and guide her and help her through temptation--to show her that God was not a God afar off, but was nigh to each one of us, even in our hearts. So, comforted, she fell asleep. And the next day was the Sabbath. CHAPTER XVIII When Joyce awoke that first Sunday morning in her new home the sun was streaming broad across her bed. By that she knew it was very late. It suddenly came to her consciousness for the first time that she had been so busy getting her dress done in time to reach Mrs. Powers’ at twelve o’clock that it had never occurred to her to do any marketing for Sunday, and of course everything had been closed up tight when she came home at half past ten. Well, there was enough in the house to keep her from starving, and she would just have to get along. There were probably restaurants open, but why go to a restaurant on Sunday? She had not been brought up to be much away from home on the Lord’s day, and while she understood that it might be necessary sometimes for restaurants to be open on Sunday for some poor homeless ones, still, she didn’t see patronizing them if she could help it.