For an hour the stranger slept, with a smile on her lips; and then opened her eyes again. But there was no pain, no fear in them now; only just a shadow of trouble, as she asked in a whisper, "Where is it?" The woman, with one hand smoothed back the hair from the forehead of her patient, and with the other pointed upward; the troubled shadow passed from the eyes of the young mother, and she slept again. Later in the day, the doctor called, and once more she awoke. "I thank you, doctor," she said, in a weak voice; but shook her head when he offered her medicine. "But, dear child, it is only to relieve you from any pain." She answered, "you said I must go; let me go as I am. Oh, this world is cold and harsh. God knows that I do not fear to die. Christ, who welcomed little children, has my babe, and he knows that in my heart I am innocent." "But won't you tell us of your friends?" "No, no," she whispered. "I have no friends but you and God; and I have doubted even his love until you told me that he would take me." Nor could any argument prevail upon her to change her mind; her only answer was a shake of the head. That evening, just after dusk, she whispered to her kind nurse, who sat by the bedside, "Won't you tell me your name, please?" "They call me Mother Gray." "And may I call you that too?" "Yes honey, of course you may," answered the old woman. "Of course you may." "And why do you cry, mother?" as the tears rolled down the wrinkled face. "Are you not glad that God is good to me? Oh, I forgot, you are afraid for me. You don't understand." And she turned her face away. "Is there anything I can do for you, dear? Brother Cameron is coming to see you just as soon as he gets home. Would you like to talk to him?" "Brother Cameron--Brother Cameron--I have no brother," she answered, turning to Mother Gray again. "Who is he?" "Brother Cameron is our pastor; a minister you know." The lips parted in a scornful smile, and the eyes flashed with a spark of fire that must have once been in them. "Oh, a church member; no, I beg of you, don't let him come here; I want nothing to do with him." "But, my dear, he is a good man." "Yes I know," said the girl. "I have met these good church people before." "But honey, I'm a church member." "You are a _Christian_, mother; I love Christ and his people; but a man can't prove himself a Christian simply by being a church member. But I am tired. Forgive me if I pain you, mother, but I cannot see the minister. He is a good man, a Christian perhaps, but he can do me no good now; and I would rather die alone with you. The church has driven me from its doors so many, many times. It was always so cold and unfeeling. They bestow their pity on the dead bodies of people, and by their manner, freeze the souls of men." Exhausted with the effort of so long a speech, she dropped into a stupor again.