Betty stretched out her arms, but Edith slowly shook her head,--still smiling, she pointed to her own picture on the mantle, and then to George's. "You will?" she whispered softly. "I don't understand," answered Betty gently. "You will, dear," came the reply, and before Betty could again speak, Edith vanished from her sight. It was the first vision Betty had ever had, and for awhile she lay trembling and weak. Finally she grew calm, but knowing it was impossible to rest, she arose and went downstairs to her mother. "Betty, dear," Mrs. Emmit said, brightly, "Your father just brought you a letter from Chicago." With a sudden, almost painful joy, she recognized Dr. Cadman's handwriting. Opening the letter, she read aloud. "Dear Betty: I am wondering if your folks could take in a tired Easterner for a month? I'm just longing for the hills of Ephraim and the wonderful rest that only your peaceful home could give me in my present state of mind. "Will tell you all when I see you. If I would inconvenience any of you, don't hesitate to say so. "Kindest regards to all, your old friend, "George Cadman." Betty's heart beat with such wild delight, she could scarcely finish reading the letter. "Of course he shall come!" declared Mrs. Emmit, happily. "And we'll show him how we appreciate his kindness to you on your mission. Answer him right now, child--don't lose any time to tell him he is more than welcome." *********** "And so, Betty, now I have told you my life's story," concluded George seriously, looking out upon the glorious view of the mountains from the little knoll where he and Betty sat. This was their favorite resting place, a few miles from town, to which they were accustomed to walk every evening at sun down. Betty did not answer. She was trying to adjust herself to the revelations. So it was Edith he had loved after all--not Alma! "And," continued George, breaking the silence, "I'll surprise you when I tell you--I want to be baptized." Betty turned to him in delight. "You mean it? O! I am so thankful!" He looked at her tenderly. "Yes, I mean it. I had to suffer to really appreciate religion. And when it comes to choosing one, I don't have to compare long, what you offer me and what the world has to offer. And Betty,--I've awakened to another truth that I have been blind to before." "What truth?" asked Betty. "The fact that I love you, little woman, and want you to be my wife." Betty looked at him first, with unfeigned joy,--then drew away and regarded him with speechless wonder. "Couldn't you love me, little one?" he asked, taking her hands tenderly, and trying to draw her to him. She held him off. "But--Edith--you just told me--you love her as always!" "I do," returned George smiling. "But I love you none the less. I can't quite understand it, myself."