Miss Woodford went up to her room, and sat down by the open window with, it must be admitted, a little feeling of despair in her heart. She could see rocks ahead, and she had had no experience, and surely the task here was going to be a big one. A great homesickness came over her; she felt the lump rising in her throat and almost choking her. This was to be her home now, and already the one being in whom she had felt an interest, and from whom she had hoped to win affection, had rushed from her with hatred in her heart and a malignant expression of passionate dislike disfiguring her face. Presently Margaret roused herself and commenced unpacking her box. Beyond her clothes she had brought one or two personal treasures: the bit of the old cedar-tree; a water-colour drawing of the Abbey House, which she promptly hung up upon the wall, where an unused nail remained driven in. Her ivory toilet ware, with her name "Margaret" traced in gold across the backs of the brushes and mirror, and a beautiful dressing-case of the same lovely ware, which contained a family heirloom in the shape of a ruby necklace, the stones of which flashed their fire in the sun's rays, as now she lifted the lid. She took it out for a moment; the gems streamed from her fingers, held together by tiny links of gold. She had a memory of her mother with that very chain about her neck, and she, a child, begging for it, and the laughing voice saying, "Not now, darling, but it will be yours when I am gone." How lightly the words had been spoken, and how soon had the separation come! Much as she treasured the jewels, the stones felt cold in her hand to-day as she gathered them up and replaced them in the case. Her things disposed of, she drew a chair to the open window and sat down. The lilt of the birds' songs fell sweetly upon her ears; her thoughts became a reverie over the past, an expression of pain lurked in the depths of her eyes--and they were eyes full of womanly tenderness, and yet capable of expressing undeveloped strength. Presently her fingers touched the book which lay upon the table near her. With quick impulse she drew it towards her, an unspoken petition rising in her heart: "Lord, give me a message from Thee." She opened the book at random, and her glance fell upon these words: "_I rose and did the king's business._" She glanced back and read, as she had often read before, of the solemn vision granted to the prophet when he was shown something of the trouble to come in the latter days, the distress of nations before the Kingdom of the Lord should be established upon the earth. In his grief he fainted, the burden of the vision causing sickness to come upon him; then he braced himself, and she read: "I, Daniel, rose, and _did the king's business_." The duty just there--the work to be carried on.