"There—there, I must go now, Lucy needs her dinner; but, Oh! Clara, do think of what I've said; do pray about it; do ask the Lord to show you what to do."
"She—she knows you, miss," says Clara softly.
Betty looks up from the toast she is making for Lucy's tea. Some time has passed, and Lucy is almost well again, but Betty insists on waiting upon her as much as ever.
"Who knows me?" she asks. "What are you talking about, Clara?"
"The—the Captain," answers Clara, shyly. A light breaks over Betty's mind.
"You mean my dear Captain! I'm so glad—so very glad—and so you're going to the Meetings regularly?"
"Yes, miss."
"Isn't Captain Scott sweet; isn't she just like one of the Lord's own angel messengers!" cries Betty enthusiastically.
"Yes, miss."