"In Fisher's Lane, please, ma'am," answered Susie, dropping a courtesy and blushing. But the lady did not know Fisher's Lane. "Do you go to the Ragged School?" she asked. Susie shook her head. "I don't know where it is," she said. "That is a pity," said the lady, "for there is a Sunday school there afternoon and evening, in a nice, warm room, and the teachers would be glad to see you, I am sure." "Would they?" said Susie. "I used to go to Sunday school before we came to live here. Perhaps Elfie knows where it is, and maybe she'll come with me." "Ask her," said the lady; "we shall be very glad to see you both." She did not stay to ask who Elfie was; but she looked after Susie as she ran down the street, and was surprised to see her join poor, ragged, neglected-looking Elfie—for Susie still contrived to keep a decent appearance, although her clothes were so thin and old. The lady's invitation was repeated to Elfie; but to Susie's surprise she did not look at all pleased. "Do you know where the school is?" asked Susie. Elfie nodded. "Yes, I know where it is, but I shan't go." "O Elfie, do," said Susie coaxingly. "No, I shan't. You may, if you want to leave me all alone on Sunday afternoons," said Elfie sulkily. "But I don't want to leave you, Elfie; want you to come with me," said Susie. "I don't want to come," said Elfie doggedly. "Why not?" persistently asked Susie. "I don't like schools, nor them that go to 'em." And to end all further discussion on the subject, Elfie ran home, leaving Susie to follow more leisurely. There was nothing for her to hurry home for. The room looked cold, bare, and desolate, for they could not indulge in a fire to-day; they had not been able to make up the rent money, and the thought of this had troubled Susie until she went to church. There, however, she had heard the message bidding her to cast her care upon God; and she came home to the cheerless room, and her dinner of dry bread, feeling as blithe as a bird. "Why, what's come to you, Susie?" asked Elfie. "You was crying and fretting about the rent money before you went out, and now you look as though you'd got it all safe in the tin box." The mention of the rent brought a little cloud into Susie's face, but it was quickly dispelled as she answered, "O Elfie, I wish you could have heard the minister to-day, and what he said about God taking care of us." "It don't seem as though he took much care of you and me," said Elfie sulkily, as she looked at the empty grate, and tried to draw her rags over her bare shoulders. "Are you very cold, Elfie?" asked Susie tenderly. "I shouldn't think you was very warm," said Elfie crossly. "Your frock ain't in rags perhaps, but it's as thin as mine." "Yes, it is thin," said Susie, "and I'm cold; but it seems to me God does care even for our being cold, for he's sent to tell us we may go where there is a fire this afternoon." "Where's that?" asked Elfie sharply.