Out in the blinding and pitiless sleet,
The young girl goes on her errand blest;
She starts at each sound on the lonely street,
As she longs for, but dares not dream of rest.

She knows not the worth of the gem she holds
Close to her breast, in her thinly clad hands;
A martyr's courage her soul enfolds,
And a guardian angel near her stands.

She shudders oft as she passes by
Some staggering form, whose ribald curse
Seems, 'mid the storms of that stormy sky,
To make the loneliness ten times worse.

Now on the icy pavement she stands,
Now is plunged deep in a drift of snow,
Now she is rubbing her freezing hands
Scarcely knowing which way she must go.

She thinks of the past, the long dark past,
And blights that follow a drunkard's child,
And the tears she strive's to check fall fast,
And turn to ice in that night so wild.

For we all know how, in the darkest shade,
Dreams of the sunniest light will come
To one in a foreign hospital laid,
No words so dear as, "My home, sweet home!"

And Ethel sees visions of sunny bowers
Where once she played with the ring-doves mild,
'Mid the piercing blast she can scent the flowers
She plucked with joy when a little child.

Then she starts in fear, and a nameless dread,
As she thinks of her mother o'er and o'er,
Keeping lone watch with one lying dead,
In that fearful stillness, behind the door;.

And, raising her trembling heart to Heaven,
She asks of Him, who careth for birds,
That help and strength may to her be given,
And not in air die her earnest words.

She reaches the end of the lonely gloom,
She scarcely knows if in fear or joy,
She passes on to a snug warm room
And stands in the presence of Victor Roy.

With tremulous efforts the timid girl
Strives to utter her story of grief,
all things grow of a dizzy whirl
As she shivering stands like an aspen leaf.

He looks at the eyes so earnest and sad,
He hears the voice that is sweet and mild,
He sees a figure scantily clad,
And only mutters, "Why, that is the child."

He looks at the snowflakes melting fast
From the faded hood and the mantle fold,
While his thoughts go dreamily into the past,
And now he is young and now he is old.

He has taken the jewel in his hand,
He knows the mark which that Key-stone bears;
Upon any sea, upon any land,
The sign of a brother that jewel wears.

He looks at the Key-stone, with eyes whose ray
Grows dreamy like a somnambulist,
and Ethel murmurs, "I saw you to-day
At the church of St. John, the Evangelist.

Have I done any wrong in coming here?
'Twas only this evening my father died,
And mother is lonely and full of fear;
We have no friend in this world so wide."

And hearing the mournful voice again,
Seemed the unexplained spell to break;
And, in tones which were partly born of pain
And partly of hopefulness, Victor spake:

"Come nearer the fire, little girl, and tell me why here you came.
Why did you bring this jewel to me? How did you learn my name?
Your father is dead, this was not his; your name is Ethel Adair.
Adair, Adair, it seems like a dream; I have heard that name, but where?
There, rest yourself child, it's cold to-night, you can tell me by and by
Where you are from, and where you live--what do you say, will I buy?
Do not fear little girl, I am your friend; you cannot speak the word
Of thanks you wish to say, never mind, for there's One above has heard.
Were you born in America? No; in Spain by the Darro's waters bright,
Your parents went there from western skies, 'neath the Rocky mountain's height.
Where do you live? What there, in that wretched barn of a place!
A man who can rent such dens should meet the contempt of his race.
What have you had to eat to-day? Why, how have you lived it out?
Your mother and you did sewing; oh yes, at starvation prices, no doubt.
Him? I know the man you have worked for then, he keeps his carriage and pair,
Gives largely to missionary funds, and is long and loud in grayer.
Never mind, the same All-Seeing Eye watches them come and go,
That noted the whited sepulchre two thousand years ago.
There, take that coffee and cake, and when you are rested I'll come
And see what has to be done in your lonely, desolate home.
And Jasper, you'll come along to take care of us both, and please bring
Something to eat; a basket? yes, filled with every good thing.
There, don't be long Jasper, time flies; yes, I know it is growing late,
And Una and her lion have not so very long to wait.
You used to read of Una, and wonder what made the lion stay;
Lions are useful, Ethel, sometimes to keep the jackals away.
Why child, are you ready so soon? Will you be my little guide?
Oh, I cannot tell you the worth of this; do you know where your grandpa died?
You would rather I bought it--all right--who is at home, only your mother, dear?
A brother's daughter and orphan child must not perish while I am near.
You knew that God would help you, have you learnt to trust and love Him too?
There's another link between us then, ever old and ever new.
You're afraid the storm will hurt me, you are used to the frosty air;
We'll brave it together for once, so come little Ethel Adair.