Ruth's eyes moistened with tears and she replied: "Dear Miss Earnestine, ask for help and you will be led into that beautiful life where you can see and love all humanity. There certainly is not any need of such a wretched state of existence as we here behold, and in that respect you are quite right. But, dear girl, pause and think, what makes this woe? Every creature has a Creator, but did God create such misery as this in the world? Ah, no! A thousand times, no! God wills that peace and plenty shall rain down upon his people. God's will is that every soul shall be happy in Him. But it is man who has wrought this evil and cursed the generations. The saloon, the brothel, the den-places where all iniquity abound-are the devices of men. Man's avarice and greed for gold have led him to make merchandise of the people and these are they that are sold into bondage and death that men may grow rich!"

And then coming the nearest to heartlessness that she had ever done, Ruth said: "Even the wealthy and beautiful daughters of the world, in pursuit of earthly pleasure, will insist upon the use of wine to the injury of their fellows. Oftentimes the fall begins at the mansion. The victims of the wine cup who are taught by fair woman's hand to love the beverage, drop lower and lower and eventually become the slums of society."

Marie's face turned pale and she staggered backward and sank into a chair. Ruth's sword had cut deeper than she knew, and the hot tears were rolling down her cheek. Ruth, whose very name was pity and tenderness, gathered the hurt one to her bosom, put a loving kiss upon her brow, and said: "I have no more fear of you." At length Marie rose and taking the hand of her maid, said: "Dear Ruth, you are a savage in your thrusts, but I confess I have deserved it all and will try in the future to profit by

your rebuke. Come, now, let us go in, for I am weary of looking upon this scene."

As they turned to go, they saw Judge Earnestine standing at their side. He had been cognizant of the whole conversation. Ruth smiled pleasantly at him, and as they passed on she heard him exclaim to his daughter: "Vae victis! Marie, is it always so when you and your maid hold a controversy?"

"Yes, father mine, our Ruth is a dagger of truth and she cuts deep, but her setting is of jewels most rare."

The two laughed heartily; but Ruth knew that underneath the mantle of gaiety was a conscience that was hurting and a remorse that would burn on for many a day.

The reader may search in vain for such a character in the everyday waiting maid so commonly employed by the world, but we would pause to say in defense of the true object of this character that it has not been our purpose so much to show a working girl as we so commonly find her, but to set forth the possibilities within the reach of any and every wage earner. No girl is menial or ignorant simply because she is a wage earner. Labor is the most essential factor in the combination of life. Without labor the physical man can never be fully developed, and true nobility can never be degraded by labor. If one be inclined to degradation, he will be base and ignorant in the possession of wealth just as quickly as in poverty.

Ruth Mansfield was a woman born, and no matter what her calling in life had been, she could never have been menial. And had Marie inherited a nobler spirit she would have feared to do violence to the feelings of one so gifted and beautiful in spirit as Ruth. As it was, much of her unkindness and dogmatism was due to her own. ignorance and the want of Christian culture in her heart.

She had grown to believe that only the rich were deserving of consideration. Notwithstanding all that, she bore in her heart a deep, warm, loving thought for Ruth, who had so sweetly mastered her will on so many different occasions and made her feel that her office was more of a companion than a maid. Ruth could not see that Marie was thinking of the past, so she breathed an earnest prayer, then left her with God. She thought: "It is but right that every soul should consider their own misdeeds, and the punishment should be to them alone."

A few days of rest in smoky London, and Judge Earnestine announced that he was ready to sail to America. Somehow, Ruth, who had been watching him closely during the last few days, felt a misgiving, for she greatly feared he would not be able to stand the journey home. But whatever his physical suffering or the thought of his heart, he kept his own counsel and spared his daughter grave fears until he was carefully ensconced in his own room with the great steamship headed for America and home. Then, calling the family group together, with an especial request for Ruth, he calmly spoke of his fears of death and told them that he might not live to reach New York.

His words to Marie were replete with fatherly tenderness and he commended her to the mercy of the world, saying: "My fortune will be yours, and it will serve you, as it has your father, better than earthly friends."

Then turning to Ruth, he said: "Miss Mansfield (and his voice had a ring that told in what high esteem she was held) you have been kind to my daughter in the days gone by; will you still be her friend when I am gone?"

Ruth took his hand and replied: "Yes, Judge Earnestine, I will be her friend." A look of happy trust came