Her preparation for her new and untried work had been none of the best. As I said, the morning had been given to the cares of the dressmaker and the deceitfulness of trimmings, so much so that her Bible reading even had been omitted, and only the briefest and most hurried of prayers, worthy of the days when prayer was nothing to her but a formal bowing of the head, on proper occasions, had marked her need of help from the Almighty Hand. These thoughts troubled her as she went down the Street. She paused irresolutely before one of the principal bookstores. "I ought to have some tracts," she said, doubtfully, to herself; "they always take tracts when they go district visiting; I know that from hearing Mrs. Whipple talk; what is this but a district visiting; only Dr. Dennis has put my district all over the city; I wonder if he could have scattered the streets more if he had tried; respectable streets, though, all of them; better than any Mrs. Whipple ever told about." Then she tried to select her tracts; but when one has utter ignorance of such literature, and a few minutes at a crowded counter in which to make a selection, it is not likely to be very select. She finally gave up any attempt at choice, beyond a few whose titles seemed inviting, chose a package at random, and hastened on her way. "Mrs. C. Y. Sullivan" was the first name on her list, and, following her directions, she came presently to the street and number. A neat brick house, with a modern air about it and its surroundings; a bird singing in a cage before the open window, and pots of flowers blooming behind tastefully looped white curtains; not at all the sort of a house that Ruth had imagined she would see. It did not suit her ideas of district visiting, crude though those ideas were. However, she rang the bell. Having commenced the task she was not one to draw back, though she admitted to herself that she never felt more embarrassed in her life. Nor did the embarrassment lessen when she was shown into the pretty, tasteful parlor, where presently Mrs. Sullivan joined her. "I am Miss Erskine," Ruth said, rising as Mrs. Sullivan, a tall woman of some degree of dignity after a slight bow, waited as if she would know her errand. Unfortunately Ruth had no errand, save that she had come out to do her duty, and make the sort of call that Dr. Dennis expected her to make. Her embarrassment was excessive! What _could_ she do or say next? Why did not Mrs. Sullivan take a chair, instead of standing there and looking at her like an idiot? "Do you get out to church every Sabbath?" she asked, suddenly, feeling the need of saying something. Mrs. Sullivan looked as though she thought she had suddenly come in contact with a lunatic. "Do I get out to church?" she repeated. "That depends on whether I decide to go or not. May I ask why you are interested?"