forgotten on the exciting journey, she refreshed herself. There was
no letter; no news of the lieutenant, and the indifferent neighbour
could only say that she had been asked to hold the key until the
new captain arrived.

The time for the meeting drew near, but no Salvationist called, and
a feeling of strangeness and loneliness came upon the captain.
Falling on her knees, she called upon God to help her. The
realization of His Presence, the prospect of having a little corps
of her very own, enabled her to smile at her fears, and to sally
forth to seek The Army hall. At last it was discovered. Such a tiny
place! A small burying ground surrounded it, giving it a dismal
appearance. The door was closed, so the captain went and inquired
for the key, and was informed that the hall would be opened in time
for the meeting. After waiting for some time, a girl appeared, and,
in a sullen way, opened the door. 'If only the lieutenant were
here,' the captain thought. By 8:30 two lads and a few children had
mustered. Her first meeting in her own corps was one of the most
difficult she had conducted. There was a strange something, a
mysterious atmosphere which she could not understand.

The last train did not bring the lieutenant, and the captain,
committing herself to God, decided she must make the best of the
circumstances. She had no desire for supper and went to bed.
Awakened next morning by a stream of beautiful sunshine, she
realized where she was, and the dreariness and coldness of the
past night's experiences returned. 'If only the lieutenant were
here,' again she sighed. 'If--but this will not do,' she cried
aloud, 'I must not let the first little struggle discourage me.
Perhaps I was cold and tired last night, and perhaps the people