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face, Astra could see in memory the angry look on Clytie’s face as she cried out, “You’ll be good and sorry!”
    At last, after a long, careful search through her entire room, hoping that perhaps Clytie had only played a trick and might have repented at the last and left her at least a little of her money, Astra dropped upon her knees and buried her hot, tear-wet face in the cool length of sheet that had been flung across the head of the mattress and trailed down upon the floor. She knelt there and sobbed softly to herself, for even now in her despair she was aware that she was not alone in the house. The old housekeeper was still there, and the maid, and they must not hear her weep and perhaps report on it to her relatives.
    After softly sobbing for some minutes, she at last got quiet enough to bring her heart to a little pitiful prayer, remembering her father’s words during those last days when he knew he was going to leave her.
    “Don’t ever forget,” he had said, “that nothing is too small to bring to God in prayer. No trouble is too small for Him to notice and to give you comfort when you are distressed. Just get in the habit of bringing everything to Him. Say, ‘Lord, here’s something I can’t do anything about. I’m afraid of what it is going to be, so won’t You please take it, manage it, and bring it out the way You want it to be!”
    She had remembered that many times in lesser situations than this, and it had comforted her to pray. It seemed to take out of her that burning desire to rush at those who had caused her trouble and demolish them, tear them limb from limb. It seemed to bring calm in the midst of the tempest in her heart.
    So, after a little, she was able to lay the whole matter before her Lord and ask guidance.
    When she arose from her knees and went patiently about clearing up the room and putting it in perfect order once more, she seemed to be waiting for God to tell her what to do.
    Before the bell rang for her solitary meal, she had so far recovered her equilibrium that she had washed away the signs of tears and smoothed her hair, and peace was upon her brow.
    For more and more the conviction had been growing within her as she worked that this was not the place for her to be living any longer. This trouble was not something she could bring out in the open and have cleared up. There would always be bitterness between herself and Clytie, for Clytie resented her presence in their home and would always be jealous of everything that was done for her, every favor granted. It was hopeless to try to do anything about it. She must go away. And surely her father, if he were here now, would agree with her.
    And of course this would be the time to go, while they were all away and there could be no discussion about it. Just write a nice note to Cousin Miriam and thank her and Cousin Duke for their kindness in opening their home to her when she was first left alone, tell them that now she felt it was time to relieve them of the burden of her continual presence, that it would be better for Clytie, too, and then just go. By the time they got back and realized that she had really meant it, and they got around to protest, she would have found a place for herself where she was comfortable and wanted to stay, and they would finally subside. She felt sure she knew those cousins well enough to be sure that none of them would mourn very much for her absence, or have pains in their conscience for allowing her to stay away, and she would be on her own and could make a new and tolerable life for herself.
    But there was one almost insurmountable objection to her going now. Her money was gone! Absolutely! All of it! Her careful search through her room had revealed only a fifty-cent piece, five dimes, and two quarters. How was she to go away anywhere with only a dollar and a half?
    As she idly ate the unattractive lunch that the two maids had provided for her, she was puzzling her brains as to how she could