"Very well, now I can dispense with your company."
Kate laughed merrily, and sitting down to the piano, played till Grace called her out to dine.
"It seems rather nice to come home and play lady," she remarked, as she went out where Grace was.
"Well, really, Kate, I was thinking this afternoon that there is not so much difference in the kinds of work as there is in the thoughts you have when you work, and I resolved, that to refrain from certain duties because one does not like them is selfish, and makes a person one-sided. Then I could see no reason why I should dislike to cook, and concluded to try it."
"I believe you are right about the one-sidedness," said Kate, soberly.
"I do want to grow into a rounded character, and am just realizing the necessity of doing things that lie nearest us, whether it is washing dishes, painting or scrubbing. If I get so I can think right about things I'm sure I shall like them."
"That is true. I have already noticed a vast difference in my patience in giving lessons. You know some days I would be so nervous and get so exasperated with Fannie Thornton and Jenny Miles, I didn't know what to do with myself, but the last few days I have not minded them at all, in fact I got along better with Fannie than ever before, and it was just because I kept from thinking she was contrary and stupid."
"Well, that is a practical application of your lesson. I think we ought to apply it to everything we do," replied Grace.
"One of the chief beauties of this Christianity is that it goes into every thought and action," said Kate, thoughtfully, adjusting her hair.
"Oh!" she added a moment later, "I forgot to give you the letter that came to-day." She pulled it out of her pocket all crumpled and gave it to Grace, who glanced at her name on the envelope and then grew white about the mouth as she hastily put it into her pocket, remarking in an ordinary tone, "It will keep a little longer."