pocket now. How gladly would she have emptied her little silken purse,
if she had only had it with her; but, alas! it lay uselessly in her
drawer at home. Her conventional penny had been put into the plate at
the door, as she came into church, and Grace thought ruefully that she
had nothing--nothing to give to help these poor forsaken ones, whose
hard lot had so touched her heart. Just then, however, she happened to
raise her hand to her neck, and was reminded of an ornament which she
always wore, the only precious thing she possessed. It was an
old-fashioned locket, with rows of pearls round it, and in the centre a
baby lock of her own hair, which her mother used to wear. Her Aunt Hume
had some time ago taken it out of the old jewel-case which awaited her
when Grace was old enough to be trusted with its contents, and given it
to her to wear, so it was her very own. But was not this a worthy
occasion for bringing of one's best and most precious things? Might not
this pearl locket help to bring some little outcast waif into paths of
pleasantness and peace? Yes, the locket should be given to the special
collection, Grace resolved; but it might not be wise, to divulge the
intention to Margery, who had already replied, when she was asked by
Grace if she could lend her any money, that nobody would expect a
collection from such a young lady.

When the crowd moved away from the passage, and began to scatter,
Margery and her charge left the old pew in the highest gallery and
prepared to go down the great staircase which led to the entrance door.
Near the door there stood two elders of the church, with metal plates in
their hands, waiting for the offerings of the congregation. Grace had
been holding hers tightly in her hand, having untied it from her neck
and slipped the ribbon in her pocket, and now she laid it gently among
the silver, and the pennies, and the Scotch bank-notes, hoping that it
might slip unobserved between one of the crumpled notes, and so escape