And to this Mrs. Frazee had made answer, "It is impossible!" and indeed it did seem impossible. Where was the money to come from for a journey?

Annie Frazee had been ill all winter; first it was the measles, then later the whooping-cough. How that cough did hang on! Day after day the child seemed to grow weaker, though they kept hoping for improvement. They were too poor to have constant medical attendance, but a kind-hearted physician who had been consulted when the cough had proved too obstinate to yield to the mother's nursing, had fallen into the habit of dropping in for a moment whenever he was in the neighborhood. It was one of those bright mornings of early spring. Doctor Emmons had been called to prescribe for Mrs. Murphy's baby. Mrs. Murphy lived away up at the top of the tall tenement house of which the Frazees occupied two rooms on the second floor. The doctor stopped for a few moments on his way down, and his quick professional eye noted immediately the change in Annie since his last call, and he made the plain statement which so distressed the poor mother.

"If it could be," she said over and over when Doctor Emmons had gone on his busy way, "but it is impossible!"

Suddenly as she was going sadly about taking up the work she must do, and repeating the sorrowful sentence, "It is impossible!" she seemed to hear a voice saying, "The things which are impossible with men, are possible with God."

The voice seemed far away, and though Mrs. Frazee was startled she soon realized that it was a memory of words she had read long ago, and as she reflected she knew that they were the words of Christ himself.

Away back in her girlhood Mrs. Frazee had professed to be a follower of Jesus. The good seed sown in her heart in the Sunday-school seemed to promise to bring forth fruit; but presently the pleasures of life, and afterwards the cares, crowded in upon her Christian life, until it seemed to have withered away. Dropping Christian duties one by one, putting away the privileges of a servant of God, she had for a long time been living away from Christ, struggling under her sorrows without aid from above. And that morning along with the memory of the words, "With God all things are possible," came the thought, "But this is not for me! I cannot claim anything from God; I have so long wandered from Christ, so long denied my Master that I have no right to come in his name asking for help!" Then after a little while thoughts of the prodigal came to her, and then by and by, stepping softly so as not to disturb Annie who had fallen into a light sleep, and saying in a whisper so faint that only the ear of the Infinite could hear, "I will arise and go to my Father," she passed into the other room, and, closing the door, knelt down alone with God to confess her sin and to plead for forgiveness. When did Christ ever turn away from a weary, burdened and repentant soul?

When Mrs. Frazee came back to the room where Annie was still sleeping, and looked into the pale face, she murmured, "If it be thy will, dear Father, spare my child." The possibility of bringing about a removal of her darling into the country seemed as remote as ever. Yet now and then there came the thought, "With God all things are possible!"

In a pleasant home in the upper part of the city a cheerful group sat at breakfast.

"If I go home with uncle Ben, I have ever so much to do to-day," said Ethel Miller, a bright young girl of fifteen.

"You girls always have so much to do," replied her brother John, two years younger. "I could get ready to go into the country for a few days in five minutes, but I suppose you will have to spend half a day deciding what to take, and the other half in packing two or three trunks!" he added with a smile.

"You are quite mistaken; I am not going to take even one trunk. But I have some calls to make."

"Calls!" said uncle Ben, arching his eyebrows. "I supposed that as you were a schoolgirl yet, you were exempt from that form of fashionable nonsense."

"Oh! I do not mean fashionable calls," replied Ethel; "but you see I am on the lookout committee, and Mr. Myers told me yesterday that the Frazee girl who has been sick all winter seems to be failing, and I ought to go there before I go away. And there are one or two more on my list who live down that way, so I may as well call on them all while I am about it."

"What will you do this morning, Benjamin?" asked Mr. William Miller, Ethel's father.

"If Ethel will take me along, I think I will go with her, and on the way back I will drop in at the store and go to lunch with you. And this afternoon I propose to give myself over to John."

This arrangement gave general satisfaction, only Mrs. Miller suggested that she, being left out of the plans, should claim the evening for herself.

Several things happened to delay Ethel and uncle Ben, so that it was quite a little after noon when they reached the home of the Frazees. Ethel in her new spring suit, with her dainty ways and bright face, was a pleasant sight to the invalid, and uncle Ben seemed to Mrs. Frazee to bring in a whiff of that country air which she had been longing for.

It all came about naturally enough. Ethel's inquiries brought out the information that Annie was not gaining and that the doctor had recommended country air. And Mrs. Frazee said, "We have not had time to plan yet, but I hope a way will be opened for her to go, though it seems just now to be impossible."

Uncle Ben listened, meantime taking in the barenness of the room as to its furnishings. Presently he asked a few questions, not in any sense obtrusive, but such as a sympathetic stranger might ask if he knew how, and uncle Ben did know how. Then he said, turning to Ethel: "Suppose we take your friend here home with us? There's room enough out there, and your aunt would not let her want for care."

Ethel's eyes beamed. "That would be just the thing! May we take her, Mrs. Frazee?" Then Ethel explained that uncle Ben lived about forty miles away in the country, that she was going home with him for a week, and that Annie would be a very welcome guest if she could go.

"You see," said Mr. Benjamin Miller, "if it agrees with her out there she can stay on after Ethel comes back to school; Ethel being with her for the first few days will help her to get used to the place."

Mrs. Frazee was too much overcome to express her joy at this unexpected turn of affairs. She tried to say it was too much, that they were strangers to him, and could not expect such kindness; but uncle Ben said:

"It's all right! This seems to be the next bit of work that the Lord has set for me to do, and it is not an unpleasant task, I'm thinking. Someway he gives me pleasant things to do, mostly!"

So it was settled, and a week later Mrs. Frazee's heart was cheered by a letter from Annie herself. She wrote:

My Dear Mamma:

I am getting stronger every day. It is lovely here. The house is the prettiest I ever saw, and my room is just as cunning as it can be. A pair of birds are building a nest under the eaves close to my window. Mrs. Miller brought up some plants in pots for my window. Before Miss Ethel went away she went down the river to where the pussy willows grow and brought me some catkins. Mr. Miller is going to take me out for a ride this afternoon. I have all the milk I can drink, and I do not cough at all nights. I wiped the dishes for Mrs. Miller this morning. So you may know I am better.

Annie.

Mrs. Frazee dropped the letter in her lap, and clasping her hands said, "My God, I thank thee!" Presently Doctor Emmons tapped at the door, and entering, looked about in surprise.

"What have you done with my patient?"

"O doctor! didn't you know? She has gone into the country and I have a letter here from her. She is getting well!"

"Of course she is! But how did it happen?" And then Mrs. Frazee had to tell the story to the wondering doctor. As she ended she added, "And I have found out that 'all things are possible with God.'"