Sadie Minot, having attained her majority and come into possession of her fortune, decided that she would be happier to locate near her old friends, with whom she was in such close religious sympathy, and she accordingly found a pleasant home in the city and resumed the study of French, German and music.

One morning, late in February, she went up on the hill to spend the day with Katherine, who often claimed her for such a visit, for their friendship was one of the dearest things of their lives.

To-day, however, Sadie appeared to have some weighty subject on her mind, for she was unusually thoughtful, and Katherine was beginning to wonder if anything was troubling her, when she drew forth a letter and, passing it to her, said: 

“Read that, honey, and tell me what you think of it.”

With a dim suspicion of what was coming, Katherine drew forth the missive from its envelope and read: 

“Dear Sadie:  When the prodigal faced about to go back to his home, his father went forth to meet him.  I have faced about; I have returned to my father and—­our Father.  The one has welcomed and forgiven, and Truth is teaching me what true forgiveness of sin is—­the destruction of sin in the human consciousness.  Now I turn to you to seek pardon—­nay, I suppose I should ‘know’ that I am already pardoned, since you also are learning to recognize man only as his Father’s ‘image and likeness.’  At the same time, some acknowledgment is due for wrong that I have done you.  Truth compels me to confess that my motive in seeking you, two years ago, was not good, and I am now ashamed of my later persecution—­ it was unworthy of any man.  And now, justice to myself prompts me to say that, underneath, there was a real fondness for you, and I find—­now that I am clothed and in my right mind—­that it had acquired even a stronger hold upon me than I then realized.  I write this because I am soon to go abroad for an indefinite period—­have been appointed confidential secretary to——­, who goes, in March, as United States Minister to England.  All I am, together with the brighter prospects before me, I owe to Phillip Stanley, who, next to her who has given to this sin-burdened world the message of Love that has saved me, commands my deepest gratitude and respect.  Send me one word, Sadie—­’forgiven’—­and I shall leave my country with a lighter heart than I have known for years.  Ned.”

Katherine lifted moist eyes, to her friend after reading and refolding the letter.

“Phillip says the change in him is wonderful—­he saw him, you know, when he was at home for Christmas,” she observed.  “Shall you send him the word he asks for, Sadie?”

Miss Minot did not reply for a moment, and her flushed face drooped lower over the embroidery in her hands.  At last she said, slowly: 

“Honey, I have sent him a word; but it was ’Come’!”

“Sadie!”

“Yes, and”—­a shy smile playing around the corners of the girl’s mouth—­“a telegram received last night reads:  ’Coming Thursday; sail March thirtieth; can you get ready?’”