"God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the wise." ***

The month at the Esterbrcok home was something to be remembered, by both young missionaries. In spare hours, Dr. Cadman would often call and take the two girls out for a drive, showing them the city in detail, and making it as interesting as possible.

Even Alma Lambert was persuaded by Edith to have the missionaries call, and Betty and Alma became great friends. Alma drank in, gladly, all the truths that Betty brought to her. She had never been religious, but now that the world had suddenly lost all its attractions for her, her thirsty soul was eager to be refreshed with thoughts that could make more bearable the loss of her husband, whom she loved more devotedly now than ever before.

Dr. Cadman encouraged her in listening to Betty, more for professional reasons—to take her mind off of herself and her sorrow; for, with a doctor's eye, he could see Alma was on the verge of melancholia.

Edith, too, was greatly interested in all that the girls had to say, but she was also interested in the preparations for her wedding, which was to take place shortly, and her attention was divided. She grew to care for the two girls with more than ordinary affection. Betty especially, wound herself around Edith's heart in a lasting friendship.

"I wonder why," said Edith thoughtfully, "I have known you only a short time, and yet I love you as though you had been near to me all your life."

"That seems clear to me," said Betty, happily. "We believe, in the pre-existent state, we loved our friends, and when we meet them here love takes up the broken thread."

"That is a beautiful thought and seems to explain it. Betty, I have asked our minister to have an interview with you girls. He didn't seem very anxious at first, but at last he graciously consented to talk to one of you. Would you like to tell him about 'Mormonism?' He is a Presbyterian, you know, and has had all kinds of 'anti-Mormon' lecturers preach in his church."

Betty's eyes shone with the enthusiasm of her mission.

"Indeed I would love to talk with him. When may I go?"

"He said tomorrow morning."

So, the next morning Betty went joyously to call upon Dr. McLeod of the Presbyterian church.

As she entered the Parish house, she sensed the refinement and comfort of her surroundings. The two first rooms were large and well-furnished with green velvet furniture to match the heavy green velvet carpet and draperies.

From a large mahogany desk in the center of the room, a tall, slim young lady arose, and advanced to greet Betty.

"I have an appointment with Doctor McLeod," said Betty simply.

"Your card, please?"

Betty had forgotten her card.

"I haven't a card," replied Betty, suddenly feeling chilled at formalities. "My name is Miss Emmit—I'm a 'Mormon' missionary."

"O, I will tell Dr. McLeod," said the lady frigidly. And she left the room with a quiet and well trained dignity, that Betty thought matched the furniture.

She was ushered into Dr. McLeod's private study.

A tall, thin man, with a correspondingly thin face and deep-set, gray eyes, sat writing at his desk, which was littered with papers and books.

His high, intellectual forehead was surmounted by an abundance of iron-gray hair.

He looked up quickly, as Betty entered, and then eyed her from head to foot with amused surprise.

"So you are the 'Mormon' missionary," he said, pleasantly. "I'm glad to meet Miss Esterbrook's friend," he added, "Be seated, please."

"Yes," said Betty in calm, happy tones, "My friend says that you would like to hear something of 'Mormonism.'"

Dr. McLeod cleared his throat.

"Well, not exactly that, my dear young lady. What I know of it, doesn't make me feel very anxious to know any more. I thought, may be, I might show you the error of belonging to such a church, and make your life happier."

For a moment Betty was speechless. She had joyously expected a man eager to learn. She felt weak in the presence of this learned man. Her heart sent up a little silent prayer, and suddenly she felt a great calm strength.

"Dr. McLeod," she said kindly without hesitation; "no minister has anything better to give a 'Mormon' than what he, or she, possesses. The restored Gospel is the greatest glory in the world today. I have come to tell you about it."

Dr. McLead colored with annoyance.

"I presume, Miss Emmit, you are about nineteen or twenty?"

"Yes."

"And you come to teach a minister of thirty years' experience on religious matters?"

"No, Dr. McLeod," the girl replied humbly, "I can teach you nothing. You are far more learned than I ever hope to be. But prophecy tells us that in the latter days, God will teach the wise men of the world through the weak. God speaks to you through me. It is His own peculiar way—cannot you understand?"

Dr. McLeod smiled.

"You have a good tactful way of answering," he said tersely. "Where in the Bible do you find such a prophesy? Please show me."

Betty walked over to the big Bible on his desk and turned to I Cor. 1:27. In her clear young voice she read:

"But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and the weak to confound the strong."

"Well, I declare!" Mr. McLeod said more kindly. "You can hold your own, can't you? Where did you study theology?"

"Study theology?" asked Betty surprised.

"Yes,—what college do they send their missionaries to, before they come East?"

"We study our Bible in Sunday school and church," said Betty, simply. "It seems when we get out here, the Lord tells us just what to say,—our little learning goes a great way."

Dr. McLeod eyed Betty with growing interest. He never expected a missionary in the form of a young, inexperienced girl.

"Are there many like you that come out?"

"Oh, yes," replied Betty brightly. "We are, as a rule, young ladies or young men. Have you never met a missionary before?"

"No, several times they have asked to see me, but I have told my secretary that I was too busy."

"And yet you have allowed other people to preach against us, and you didn't know us?"

The girl's tone was sadly reproachful as she looked at the preacher earnestly.

Dr. McLeod was annoyed with himself for feeling embarrassed before this slip of a girl.

"Well, yes, you see, these lecturers are very well-known and intelligent people. I have to rely on other brains sometimes. I'm a very busy man."

"They may be well-known and intelligent, Dr. McLeod, but they are very wicked people—for they don't tell the truth about us."

"Would you be willing to face one with that accusation?" asked Dr. McLeod thoughtfully.

"Yes, indeed, I would."

"Come then tomorrow at two, and hear an anti-'Mormon' lecture, by a woman, who has been among the 'Mormons,' and has preached in almost every Presbyterian church but mine. It is only fair that you should have a chance to talk, too. After she has finished speaking, you may have the platform for thirty minutes."

Betty's amazed delight found expression in a joyous, "O, thank you! How can I show my appreciation, Dr. McLeod?"

There was no doubting her sincerity and enthusiasm. The minister studied her expressive countenance with a kindly scrutiny.

"I think I understand the influence of you young missionaries. You influence more by what you feel, than by what you know. Emotionalism is a good hypnotist."

"O, but we do know our religion," returned Betty earnestly.

"Maybe,—we'll see tomorrow. I would like to prolong this interview, but I have an appointment. I shall listen and try to learn tomorrow," he said smilingly.

And Betty left him with joyous anticipations.