When alone with her sister that night, Beryl related her experience in the church and the new purpose which had come into her life. They were seated before an open fire, and the light illumined their fair faces with a soft glow.
"Yes," Beryl told her, "I have at last made up my mind. I am going to offer for the mission field. I care not to what place I am sent so long as it is somewhere."
"You will need training, perhaps, in that special work," her sister replied.
"I know it, Lois. But you see, when I have graduated I shall take a course in preparatory mission work. I understand there is such a school in this city connected with our Church. I shall then know where I shall be sent."
"It will be a grand work, Beryl," and Lois Hardinge laid her hand lovingly upon that of her sister's. "It will take you out of yourself, and make you forget the past."
"It can never make me forget," and Beryl gazed thoughtfully into the fire as she spoke. "I can never forget him, and I don't want to now. No matter what people say, I cannot believe that he is a bad man, even though he has fallen and is an outcast from the Church. Oh, Lois, do you know I had the feeling to-night that he was near me during service. It was only a fancy, of course, but it seemed so real. Since then I have the idea that somewhere, sometime, I shall meet him, that we shall understand each other, and that all will be well."
"God grant it so, dear," her sister fervently replied. "If it will comfort you in your work hold fast to that hope."