a helping hand.  Nothing is needed in their simple life, except one thing.  They have no women to help to lighten the labor, and so Brother Joseph begs that his wife Christina, whom he left behind, may follow him; and Brother Daniel desires that we choose a helpmate for him, who may be sent out in company with Sister Christina.  This request is very proper, and a beautiful field of work is thus opened for her who will become his wife, as she will be of the greatest assistance to her husband.  We now wish, dear Sisters, to draw lots, and thereby decide which of you is called to this honor of helping our dear Brother in building up the faith; and we are prepared to recognize in the result a direct expression of the Lord’s will, hoping it will be gladly and humbly obeyed.”

When Jonathan had finished speaking, and arrangements were being made in the usual manner for the drawing, a buzz of excitement arose among the Sisters.  Suspense was written on every face, but no one showed any fear.  Custom and habit, which govern so completely the feelings of people, prevented the Sisters from feeling wounded or alarmed at being disposed of in this business-like manner; and therefore they allowed the ceremony to go on with cheerful resignation.  Brother Jonathan laid down one after another of the drawn papers containing the names of the Sisters, while Sister Agatha at the same time let the blanks which she drew fall on the floor, waiting until she should turn up the one on which was written Brother Daniel’s name.  The spirit of humility with which it all was accepted, as coming from the Lord, stood written on these gentle faces which bore this trial so firmly.  Not a single Sister trembled as her name was read by Brother Jonathan.  About half the list had been called in this manner, when Jonathan, unrolling another paper, looked at it a moment in silence.  He changed color, and involuntarily hesitated; but controlling himself, read in the same calm voice as before:  “Carmen Mauer.”  He looked anxiously at Sister Agatha, whose trembling fingers tried to open the folded paper which she drew.  After many futile efforts it was at last unrolled; she looked at it, and her hand sank slowly to her side as she read:  “Brother Daniel Becker.”

Hate or love, triumph or despair:  which was it that stood so plainly written on Jonathan’s face?  For the moment he could not master his feelings.

“Sister Carmen Mauer!” The name passed from lip to lip, and echoed through the room.  Carmen had endeared herself to everybody, although she was so different from them all.  Her sweetness of manner had won their hearts, and her unselfishness and kindness had gained her many friends.  “Carmen Mauer!” they called, repeatedly, but no answer came.  Carmen was not present.

“Where is Sister Carmen Mauer?” asked Brother Jonathan, who had become sufficiently calm to speak; and something like a gleam of hope lit up his features.