* * * * *
"Who is she?"
"Couldn't say. She is a stranger here, I think."
"Yes, she lives in that little house down by the bridge, you know,
girls, that tiny bit of a house covered with that white rose."
"Where we always got such lots of flowers to decorate with because no
one ever lived there. Why, the house is almost tumbled down. How can
anyone live there?"
"No one would if they were not very poor. Of course you can tell by the
girl's clothes that she is poor."
"Come on, girls, never mind talking about her," said one of the number
impatiently. "What difference does it make to us who she is? We will be
late," and the troop of merry girls passed on down the street.
Meantime the subject of this conversation was hurrying in another
direction, her eyes blinded by the quick tears that had sprung unbidden
to them when the wistful glance she had cast at the girls had been met
with only those of cold curiosity.
"It is hard to be so alone," she murmured, "but I must not let mamma
know."
The girls went on their way, unconscious of the wistful look, or
unthinking that they had been in any way unkind.
Nellie Ross had noticed, however, and she was thoughtful all the
afternoon. How must it feel, she wondered, to be alone among strangers.
As they were returning home toward night, she whispered to her
particular friend:--
"Do you know, Mabel, I can not help thinking of that girl we met this
morning."
"What girl?" asked Mabel Willis, with a slightly puzzled air.
"Why, the one that Margaret said lived in the little cottage you know."
"O yes. What about her?"
"Why she looked at us so wistfully, and I never see her with anyone; she
must be lonely."
"Well?"
"You know what the Bible says," slowly: "'I was a stranger and ye took
Me not in.' This girl is a stranger and don't you think we might apply
that?"
"Just what are you thinking of, Nellie?"
"I was thinking that we might call on her and ask her to join our
Sabbath school class, and that might open the way."
Mabel laughed. "You always were a regular missionary, Nellie; but I
hardly believe I care to go with you," with a shrug of her shoulders.
Nellie was disappointed, but she said no more for she had learned the
uselessness of arguing with Mabel, so she determined to make her call
alone.
Nellie felt a little timid as she presented herself at the tiny home the
next afternoon. The girl herself answered her rap, and invited her into
the wee living room. In an easy chair at one side of the fireplace
reclined a delicate, sweet-faced woman.
[Illustration: "'_I thank you, my dear,' said the woman_."]
"My name is Nellie Ross, and I have noticed you and thought you were a
stranger here," began Nellie in the winning way that had always won her
many friends, "and so I thought I would call and ask you to join our
Sabbath school class. We have such good times, and Mrs. Allen, our
teacher, is so interesting."
"I would like to go," the girl faltered; "but they are all such
strangers to me, and"--
"That will not matter," declared Nellie. "I will come for you and will
introduce you to the rest of the girls."
"I thank you, my dear," said the woman, before the girl could answer
again. "I am sure Edna will be glad to go. It has been rather a trying
time for her, I fear, since we came here, although she has never
complained, for fear it might worry me.
"She was always in church and Sabbath school work at home. But my health
failed, and the physician said a winter here might save my life.
"My husband could not come with me, for he must work at home to get
money to pay our expenses, so Edna gave up her school and everything to
come with me. We are compelled to live very cheaply, you see, but I am
getting better, and I think I shall get quite well, if only Edna can be
contented here," with a fond glance at her daughter.
"Of course, I shall be contented mamma," replied Edna.
"I'm sure she will like the Sabbath school very much," said Nellie,
earnestly, "and I will come for her to-morrow."
She did so, and Edna went with her, although she felt a little shy, but
the warm welcome given her by Mrs. Allen, and the friendliness of the
girls, soon made her feel at home. It was not until the school joined in
singing the last song, that she so far forgot herself as to join in the
singing. Then the girls were astonished. She sang alto beautifully.
"Really," cried one of them as soon as they were dismissed, "you must
join our young people's choir, will you? We do need an alto so badly."
From that time on, Edna had no cause for loneliness, for she was one of
the girls, and her mother smiled and grew better.
* * * * *
You will see the pools of stagnant water frozen through the winter,
while the little running streams are bounding along between fringes of
icy gems. Why is this? The streams have something else to do than to
stand still and be frozen up. Be you like them. Keep your heart warm by
feeling for others, and your powers active by work done in earnest.