“But, John, my dear, dear John, this is not what you expected, what you have been thinking of and dreaming of, and building your hopes upon.” “No,” he said; “and for your sake I am sorry, very sorry. I thought of a great career for you, Glory. Not rescue work merely--others can do that. There are many good women in the world--nearly all women are good, but Jew are great--and for the salvation of England, what England wants now is a great woman.... As for me--God knows best! He has his own way of weaning us from vanity and the snares of the devil. You were only an instrument in his hands, my child, hardly knowing what you were doing. Perhaps he has a work of intercession for us somewhere--far away from here--in some foreign mission field--who can say?” A feeling akin to terror caught her breath, and she looked up at him with tearful eyes. “After all, I am glad that this has happened,” he said. “It will help me to conquer self, to put self behind my back forever, to show the world, by leaving London, that self has not entered into my count at all, and that I am thinking of nothing but my work.” A warm flush rose to her cheeks as he spoke, and again she wanted to fling herself on his neck and cry. But he was too calm for that, too sad and too spiritual. When he rose to go she held out her hands to him, but he only took them and carried them to his lips, and kissed them. As soon as she was alone she flung herself down and cried, “Oh, give me strength to follow this man, who mistakes his love of me for the love of God!” But even while she sat with bent head and her hands over her face the creeping sense came back as of another woman within her who was fighting for her heart. She had conquered again, but at what a cost! The foreign mission field--what associations had she with that? Only the memory of her father's lonely life and friendless death. She was feeling cold and had begun to shiver, when the door opened and Rosa entered. “So he _did_ come again?” “Yes.” “I thought he would,” and Rosa laughed coldly. “What do you mean?” “That when religious feelings take possession of a man he will stop at nothing to gain the end he has in view.” “Rosa,” said Glory, flushing crimson, “if you imply that my friend is capable of one unworthy act or thought I must ask you to withdraw your words absolutely and at once!” “Very well, dear. I was only thinking for your own good. We working women must not ruin our lives or let anybody else ruin them. 'Duty,' 'self-sacrifice'--I know the old formulas, but I don't believe in them. Obey your own heart, my dear, that is your first duty. A man like Storm would take you out of your real self, and stop your career, and----” “Oh, my career, my career! I'm tired to death of hearing of it!” “Glory!” “And who knows? I may not go on with it, after all.” “If you have lost your sense of duty to yourself, have you forgotten your duty to Mr. Drake? Think what Mr. Drake has done for you!”