(_Told by Seven People who Knew of it._) BY GRACE LIVINGSTON. MARGARET threw an old shawl over her head and went out the side door. This had been a hard day. Weston had been very cross, and insisted upon having her run a great many errands for him, some of them unnecessary. This, too, was the first day of the fall term of school, and Margaret had so wanted to be early at school to secure her old seat; for she had heard that Helen Marcy was going to try to get it first. She had almost forgotten her new resolves in the morning when her step-mother had told her she would have to stay home to-day and help her. As the tears came into Margaret’s eyes, Mrs. Moore had remarked: “Now’s a good time to show your religion. A girl that’s joined the church shouldn’t go around pouting all day because she’s asked to do a little work; especially when she’s been off doing nothing at the seashore.” It was all true, Margaret knew it, but it seemed so hateful of her to say it. It had been so hard to bear. After tea she walked down to the gate and stood staring out into the darkness. It was a very hard life, all just as black and unlovely as that dark autumn evening. She glanced back at the house. There was Johnnie bending over his books, the gaslight above him brought him out in clear relief against the dark room. Naughty Johnnie! How he had teased her every time he came near her that day! Nobody cared for her much. She gazed down the street. Here and there a light gleamed out. Across the way there was a bright fire in the fireplace, and the family seemed to be having a happy time, sitting around the table, sewing, reading, laughing and talking. The little girl was sitting in her father’s lap. How Margaret longed for such a pleasant evening in their home. She turned involuntarily back to the house. Her father and Mr. Wakefield, the minister, had gone out just after tea, and Mrs. Moore had gone to her own room directly after the dishes were washed. The house was all dark, save Johnnie’s one gas jet. It was just unbearable. No other girl in the world had such a hard lot. It couldn’t possibly be any worse. Yes, she really thought so, this poor silly little girl. But she did not altogether forget her Heavenly Father. She remembered presently, with a glad thrill of joy, that she belonged to the rich King of all the earth. He could help her. She would ask Him. Down went her head on the gate-post, and she told her Father in Heaven all about it, and how she could not possibly stand it. Then she raised her head with a confident feeling that now all would be well, and fell to planning different ways in which her prayer might be answered. She didn’t exactly want her step-mother to die! She was rather shocked at the thought. That was a very wrong thought for a Christian girl to have. Poor little Margaret! She thought she loved Jesus, and was trying with all her might to serve him, but she still had to learn the command: “Honor thy father and thy mother.”