"And you have forgotten your class at the Mission altogether?" Dick asked. "Oh no, I saw one of the little beggars on the street this summer. It was down near the Mission building, and don't you know, we were out driving, a whole party of us, and the little rascal shouted: 'Howdy, Miss Goodrich.' I thought I would faint. Just fancy. And the folks did guy me good. The gentlemen wanted to know if he was one of my flames, and the girls all begged to be introduced; and don't you know, I got out of it by telling them that it was the child of a woman who scrubs for us." Dick said nothing. "Could it be possible?" he asked himself, "that this was the girl who had been such a worker in the church." And then he thought of the change in his own life in the same period of time; a change fully as great, though in another direction. "It don't take long to go either way if one only has help enough," he said, half aloud. "What are you saying, Mr. Falkner?" asked Amy. "It's not far home now," answered Dick, and they fell into silence again. As they neared the Goodrich mansion, Amy clasped Dick's arm with both her little hands: "Mr. Falkner, promise me that you will never speak to a living soul about this evening." Dick looked her straight in the eyes. "I am a gentleman, Miss Goodrich," was all he said. Then as they reached the steps of the house, she held out her hand. "I thank you for your kindness--and please don't think of me too harshly. I know I am not just the girl I was a year ago, but I--do you remember our talk at the printing office?" "Every word," said Dick. "Well, has my prophecy come true?" "About my preaching? No; not yet." "Oh, I don't mean that," with a shrug of her shoulders. "I mean about the other. Do you still value my friendship?" Dick hesitated. "The truth, please," she said. "I want to know." "Miss Goodrich, I cannot make you understand; you know my whole life has changed the last year." "Yes." "But my feelings toward you can never change. I do value your friendship, for I know that your present life does not satisfy you, and that you are untrue to your best self in living it." The girl drew herself up haughtily. "Indeed, you are fast becoming a very proficient preacher," she said, coldly. "Wait a moment, please," interrupted Dick. "You urged me to tell the truth. I desire your friendship, because I know the beautiful life you could live, and because you--you--could help me to live it," his voice broke. Amy held out her hand again. "Forgive me please," she said. "You are a true friend, and I shall never, never, forget you. Oh, Mr. Falkner, if you are a Christian pray for me before it is too late. Good-night." And she was gone; just as her brother Frank came up the walk. Young Goodrich stopped short when he saw Dick, and then sprang up the steps and into the house, just in time to see his sister going up the stairway to her room. CHAPTER XVII