She knelt for a moment beside the wooden box in the path of moonlight that came through her window and prayed for strength and guidance. It seemed a strange thing she was doing, now that she had done it, this buying a little house and daring to set up a home of her own on practically no money at all. A sense of awe was upon her as she brought her deed before God and tried to see it in the light of His wisdom. Had she done wrong to fly off at the unpleasant words of her cousin and seek a new environment? Somehow her soul rang true, however, as she cast once more a retrospective glance back and asked approval and guarding. She seemed so alone as she knelt there in the little empty room in the moonlight. Aunt Mary gone. The death angel standing ever between them and the dear old life they had lived together; the home town with its dear friends who loved her and whom she loved, forever lost to her because of the presence there of the cousins who had nothing in common with her and who were possessed to spoil everything she tried to do; were jealous of all her communication with the old friends. There was simply no one or nothing left but God, and she must cling close to Him. She glanced out her little open window as she rose from her knees, and dismay seized upon her as she heard footsteps coming along the pavement. The street was so near. It was almost as if she were standing in the way of the oncomer. She held her breath and the steps paused for a full minute in front of the new little house in its strange setting, and she shivered nervously as they finally passed on. Then there came to her mind, as if a sweet voice had spoken, the old words she had learned with Aunt Mary one Sunday afternoon long years ago: “The angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear Him and delivereth them.” “I will both lay me down in peace and sleep, for thou Lord, only makest me dwell in safety.” She crept into her strange, rattling couch and drew the crackling coverlet up about her, laid her head upon her rattley pillow and closed her weary eyes, resting her heart upon the words of the book as upon a pillow of peace. Then suddenly, without warning, the tears came stinging into her eyes, as she remembered how alone in the world and desolate she was, and how she longed for her dear aunt and her old home. There in her strange little bed she cried as if her heart would break for a few minutes. Then into the confusion of her sad thoughts came the words, “Even Christ had not where to lay His head.” “And I have!” she said to herself severely, “I ought to be glad and thankful. He gave me this house. It was just as plain as if I had heard Him offer it to me.”