She saw clearly that there were many worthy labourers in that vineyard who, possessing equal zeal, did not suffer from such disqualifications. The illness which she had contracted when weakened by overwork, possibly through infection, had chilled her enthusiasm, perhaps caused her to doubt the expediency of her mission. She was on the point of reviewing the respective conditions of missionary life in China and Hindostan, where the Zenana offered so fair a field for reformation by cultured sisterhoods, when she received a letter from her friend Mary Summers, the interpretation of which was, to Hypatia's sympathetic spirit, "Come over and help us." With Mary Summers she had long since formed a close friendship. They had corresponded regularly since her departure to New Zealand as the wife of the Reverend Cyril Summers. He had been a _protégé_ of Bishop Selwyn, and, as a curate, a favourite attendant during the long, quasi-dangerous journeys in which the soul of that latter-day apostle delighted. As often happens in friendships, and even closer intimacies, the schoolfellows were strongly contrasted in appearance and disposition. The one was tall and fair, with grey-blue eyes, which could flash on occasion. An air of hauteur, chastened by philosophic self-repression, distinguished her. The other was scarce of middle height, with a _petite_ but perfect figure, dark hair, and wistful hazel eyes. Hypatia was impetuous, disdainful of obstacles, hating the expedient, and scorning danger. Mary was persuasive, self-effacing, soft of speech and manner, of a goodness so pervading that it seemed an impertinence to praise it. Many people were strengthened in their convictions as to a future state by the belief that any such scheme must include a heaven for Mary Summers. She and her husband had encountered trials and privations, borne unflinchingly. They had reached a moderate degree of success, and, so to speak, prosperity, having come to inhabit a comfortable cottage near Tauranga, when this lamentable war bade fair to ruin everything, destroying the work of years, and even endangering their safety. The epistle which decided Hypatia as to locality ran as follows:-- "MY DEAREST HYPATIA, "Wars and alarms still prevail, I grieve to say. The colonists are determined, and the natives desperate, each race fighting as if for existence. Blood has been shed on either side, so that all hope of peace or mediation is at an end. I do not give any opinion as to the policy of the Government. My husband believes that an act of injustice provoked the contest which led to the war. The side on which the fault lay has a heavy account to settle. But now all agree that unless the natives make unconditional submission there is no hope of peace.