"I was not thinking of him at all. If any person came to mind it was little Teddy Reilly, my Sabbath-school boy, whose father is a professional gambler, and who lives in an atmosphere of impurity. I want to keep my hands so clean from all such things that there shall never be the possibility of his associating me with them. And the world is full of Teddy Reillys; we may meet them when we do not know it, and influence them when we are not thinking of such a thing. Besides, I have two little brothers. I don't want them ever to find in gambling saloons anything that will remind them of home and home pleasures." "I am answered," he said, smiling; but there was nothing unpleasant in the smile. After a little, he spoke again, still in the same gentle tone: "Would it be disagreeable to you to tell me what you meant, a little while ago, about the book, and what Ben's reference to 'clean hands' had to do with it?" This question caused the color to deepen on Elsie's cheeks. Such things were harder to explain; she doubted his ability to understand. "It began with Dr. Falconer, my pastor," she replied, hesitatingly. "He said, when he bade me good-by, that he hoped I would be careful not to soil my hands. Then he lent me a little book of Miss Havergal's, and I read it on the cars. There were marked passages in it, about hands having been given to Christ and being kept for His service. One sentence is, 'Can you let your hands take up things which, to say the least, are not for Jesus? Can you deliberately hold in it books of a kind which you know perfectly well lead you farther from, instead of nearer to, Him?' I thought of that all the time I was reading the book; and at last, when it came to a direct profanation of His name, I dropped it. I wish I had done so before." "It is narrow ground," said Freeman Vance. "Yes, it is. I am amazed to see how it hedges one in. One of my Sabbath-school verses is, 'He that hath clean hands and a pure heart.' I have been very careful to teach the children what the words mean, and that has made them plainer to myself, I think. At home, with my father and mother, the way is plain enough, and bright and pleasant, but in this atmosphere things are hard. I think I need mamma to-night." Her lip was quivering. With the quotation of the Bible verse, Freeman Vance had shaded his face with his hand. He made no response to her words, and she struggled silently for composure. At last he spoke again; a quiet voice, but it revealed a good deal of suppressed feeling. "Cards are a great temptation to me. I am very fond of them, and, like you, I need my mother, and can never have her any more." "Oh!" said Elsie, and the sympathy she put into that word must be imagined, not described. "You need Jesus, Mr. Vance. If you give your hands to Him, He will keep them and you."