In Him we live, He is our Source, our Spring,  
And we, His fashioning,
 
We have no sight except by His foreseeing,
 
In Him we live and move and have our being,
 
He spake the Word, and lo! Creation stood,
 
And God said, It is good.
 
David came no more. The dream was done. During the summer days there rang continually in Elizabeth’s ears the words of a song—one of Christina’s wonderful songs that sing themselves with no other music at all.
 
The hope I dreamed of was a dream,
 
Was but a dream, and now I wake
 
Exceeding comfortless, and worn, and old,
 
For a dream’s sake.
 
“Exceeding comfortless.” Yes, there were hours when that was true. She had taken her heart and broken it for Truth’s sake, and the broken thing cried aloud of its hurt. Only by much striving could she still it and find peace.
 
The of the June days was gone too. July was a wet and stormy month, and Elizabeth was thankful for the rain and the cold, at which all the world was .
 
Mary came in one July day with a face that matched the weather.
 
“Why, Molly,” said Elizabeth, kissing her, “what’s the matter, child?”
 
Mary might have asked the same question, but she was a great deal too much taken up with her own affairs.
 
“Edward and I have quarrelled,” she said with a in the words, and sitting down, she burst into uncontrollable tears.
 
“But what is it all about?” asked Elizabeth, with her arm around her sister. “Molly, do . It is so bad for you. What has Edward done?”
 
“Men are brutes,” declared Mary.
 
“Now, I’m sure Edward isn’t,” returned Elizabeth, with real conviction.
 
Mary sat up.
 
“He is,” she declared. “No, Liz, just listen. It was all over baby’s name.”
 
“What, already?”
 
“Well, of course, one plans things. If one doesn’t, well, there was Dorothy Jackson—don’t you remember? She was very ill, and the baby had to be christened in a hurry, because they didn’t think it was going to live. And nobody thought the name mattered, so the clergyman just gave it the first name that came into his head, and the baby didn’t die after all, and when Dorothy found she’d got to go through life with a daughter called Harriet, she very nearly died all over again. So, you see, one has to think of things. So I had thought of a whole lot of names, and last night I said to Edward, ‘What shall we call it?’ and he looked pleased and said, ‘What do you think?’ And I said, ‘What would you like best?’ And he said, ‘I’d like it to be called after you, Mary, darling. I got Webster’s answer to-day, and he says I may call it anything I like.’ Well, of course, I didn’t see what it had to do with Jack Webster, but I thought Edward must have asked him to be godfather. I was rather put out. I didn’t think it quite nice, beforehand, you know.”
 
The bright colour of indignation had come into Mary’s cheeks, and she with great energy.
 
“Of course, I just thought that, and then Edward said, ‘So it shall be called after you—Arachne Mariana.’ I thought what names, but all I said was, ‘Oh, darling, but I want a boy’; and do you know, Liz, Edward had been talking about a spider all the time—the spider that Jack Webster sent him. I don’t believe he cares nearly as much for the baby, I really don’t, and I wish I was dead.”
 
Mary afresh, and it took Elizabeth a good deal of her time to her.
 
Mrs. Havergill brought in tea, it being Sarah’s afternoon out. When she was taking away the tea-thi............