"Lulu," she queried later, as up in the young lady's dressing-room they had laid aside their warm wrappings and furs. "Lulu, what do you do for Christ?"
Lulu turned about in some surprise:
"What do I do for Christ?" she repeated. "Oh, Gracie, too little, I fear."
"'Tell me," she persisted.
"Well, then, I have my Sabbath-school class, my list of Christ's poor, whom I visit and aid to the best of my ability, my missionary fund, and finally, Gracie, dearest, whatever my hand 'findeth to do,' I try to do with all my might."
Gracie stood still, twisting one of the long curls that swept to her waist over one diamond-ringed white finger.
"Darling, why do you ask?" Lulu said, with her arm about the other's waist.
The fair cheek nestled confidingly against Lulu's own.
"I want to help you, if you will let me—let me go with you on your errands for Christ. I belong to the world no longer. Show me how to fill up the measure of my days with prayerful work for the Master."
One pearly drop from Lulu's eyes fell down on the golden head that had pillowed itself on her breast.