" I never was so thankful in my life," she said, " as
when I heard it was all over. Now we have got our old
ideal back again."

"Yes," said Wilhelmina dreamily; "or it will come.
I can't trust myself yet to go to sleep without seeing
him — as you saw him that day. You must come and
pay Windyhaugh a long visit under happier auspices."

The Quakeress was now a successful and enthusiastic
schoolmistress in receipt of an excellent salary. She
worked hard, lived sparely, dressed in the most uncom-
promising fashion, and educated two young brothers.
The simple elegance of Wilhelmina's black gown was a
barrier between them at first, but Miss Burnet soon for-
got all about the dress. "I have often thought," she
said, " of how you gave up everything to go away with
your father. With your prospects, I could not have done
it. I am sure God must have rewarded you."

Wilhelmina did not answer. The reward would have
been less real if she had been aware of having received it.
" And now that you are free, you will do great things
yet."

" Oh, no. Never now. I have learnt my own meas-
ure."

"Don't, dear I You have not forgotten your old
ideals?"

"No," Wilhelmina smiled. "I remember I wanted

to save mankind, but the process has been reversed. It

has always been other people who have taught me, helped

me, saved me. All one can really do is to walk humbly

/ and unselfishly, striving to see God in other men, to

V feel God in oneself."

There was a long silence. " Even that," the Quaker-
ess said at length, " is a good deal."

Mr. Ellis could scarcely believe that this full-grown



4:10 WINDYHAUGH.
