CHAPTER I.-'HE PROMISED.'

E was a tall, stalwart young fellow of twentytwo-a rising railway engineer; and she was a dark, brilliant girl some two years younger. His name was Jack Whitby, and hers was Ruth Arnold. He was spending a holiday at her father's house, and, though only distant connexions, they had known each other from babyhood, and were on most cousinly terms of intimacy.

They were going to a dance, and she stood on one side of the drawing-room fire in her creamy white dress, waiting for her father and mother to come downstairs, and he stood on the other, regarding her somewhat critically.

'Well, Johnny, are you satisfied with your survey?' 'Well, no, Ruth, I can't say I am, not to speak the truth. I think you want some colour.'

'What next? Every one tells me I have too much colour, and want toning down.'

'But you know there is colour and colour. You wouldn't look well in flaring pink or scarlet, but a well-chosen blue, now.'

'Blue! That suits me worse than anything. You said so yourself, Johnny, at the boat-race.'

"That washy Cambridge blue!' Jack's voice of disdain almost suggested the idea that he had some personal objection to seeing Ruth in Cambridge blue. 'No, I know just the blue that would suit you; not washy, nor chalky, nor staring. I've seen it in a shop at Whiston. I know! To-morrow is our own dance, is it not? I'm going to Whiston, and I'll bring you some, if you'll promise to wear it in the evening.'

'Going to Whiston, are you? What for?'

think things can be done up in no time. When shall you be back from this fair?'

'Oh, I shall catch the parliamentary easy. Four o'clock Mangleston Station. Will that do?' 'Well-yes-it might. But you must, honour bright, come by that train!'

'Honour bright. There isn't another till ever se late. And, honour bright, you'll wear the ribbons?' 'If they are the right tint; not otherwise.' All right; and if I fail, I won't expect you to give me a single dance.'

This was a climax of self-denial on Jack's part, but, perhaps, he hardly expected to be taken at his word. At least, it is doubtful whether, had such a proposal been carried out to-night, Ruth would have enjoyed the dance any more than he would have

done.

CHAPTER II.

OH, DEAR, WHAT CAN THE MATTER BE?'

What could keep Johnny so long at the fair? The parliamentary train must have been in long ago, and yet no Johnny had appeared. The rest of the party quietly supposed he had been detained over his horsedealing, or hindered by the violent storm that had raged all the afternoon; but he had not promised them blue ribbons, and, of course, they did not care whether he came in good time or not. Ruth was decidedly vexed. She might say she did not want the ribbons, and would not wear them unless she liked them, but she was not pleased that Jack had broken his promise, after being so eager last night. What could have kept him? The storm would be an ad

'Why I thought your whole heart was in iron horses! You don't mean to tell me you are stooping to steeds of flesh and blood?'

'You are right that iron steeds are infinitely superior, madam; but unfortunately, at present, for following the hounds and some other purposes, they must be supplemented by steeds of flesh and blood. But this is begging the question. Will you, or will you not, wear my blue ribbons if I get them for you?'

'As a fairing? Let me think. In the first place, they must be the exact shade that suits me; which you won't get, because it does not exist."

'Begging the question again. I say it does.'

'Well, for argument's sake, we'll suppose it does. Then you must bring it in good time. Men always

friends must have persuaded him to join in some amusement or other, and he had forgotten all about her and her ribbons. Ah! Ruth, if you had seen Jack rushing up the hill to the station, you would not have thought he did not care.

It was true he had been detained over the horsedealing, and he left the fair with only a quarter of an hour to get the ribbon and catch the train. Cabs did not abound in Whiston, and he dashed down High Street in the drenching rain, causing respectable citizens to utter, under their umbrellas, vague threats of the police; darted into the shop where he had seen his favourite tint, called for blue ribbon. turned over the contents of the drawer, seized the roll he wanted, hardly waiting for the length to be measured off, flung down half-a-crown, and rushed

away without waiting for change, hoping to catch the omnibus; failing in which, he ran all the way to the station, buffeting against the wind, saw the train at the platform when he was a hundred yards off, and, putting on a tremendous spurt, bolted into the guard's van just as it began to move. It was lucky for him the train was late; and having caught it, he was not at all sorry to find himself in the guard's van, for he was good friends with most of the Company's servants, and this particular guard was a special ally of his. They had a comfortable chat over the affairs of the nation in general, and of the Moor and Valley Rail-, way in particular, and then, as the storm waxed more and more furious, they became absorbed in watching the havoc it was working beside the line.

A crash, a jerk, sharp whistles of distress, and the train came to a standstill just beyond the ruins of a signal-post. Jack and the guard jumped out and ran to the engine, where they found the driver supported, almost insensible, by a signalman, while the fireman and a boy were clearing away broken pieces of wood. The signal-post had been blown down just as the engine passed, a large piece of wood striking the driver and injuring him severely, and putting something in the engine out of gear, so that it refused to work. A few minutes' confusion and explanation, and Jack was on the engine examining the machinery.

'I see what is wrong,' he said. 'Where is the tool-box? It won't take ten minutes to put it to rights;' and he was going on quickly with his work, when, as the driver was being put on a shutter to be carried to the neighbouring cottage, the movement roused him a little, and he murmured faintly, 'The Thunderbolt!' sending an electric shock through all who heard him.

For the minute every one had forgotten how soon the Flying Thunderbolt,' the fastest express on the line, was due. It ought to pass the parliamentary train in a siding at Manglestone. The signals which would have stopped it were blown down, and the parliamentary was late already.

'Not a minute to lose.'

'Will she take warning from the signals being gone?' 'Set it all down to the wind, most likely.'

'Turn every one out. We can all escape; the train must go.'

'That won't save the "Thunderbolt" passengers.' 'The smash must be awful,'

Jack heard every word as he bent over his work, and, turning to the guard, said quietly, 'How much time have we?'

'Barely a quarter of an hour, sir.'

'Then turn every one out. I'll race the "Thunderbolt." We must save that, if possible.'

'Can't be done, sir. There's speed to get up. You'll throw away your life for nothing.'

'It's worth trying. She'll work now. The "Thunderbolt" may be late.'

'Never is! But there, if you risk it, I'm not the man to leave my train;' and, in a surprisingly short space of time, the bewildered passengers were turned out, some men sent running down the line as fast as the wind would permit, in the very forlorn hope of checking a train going at sixty miles an hour; and Jack and the fireman, who, as well as the guard, was determined to share his peril, had got up steam and were off, speeded by a cheer from the passengers, who were full of admiration at their pluck.

A race for life! Jack knew that such it was, and all kinds of confused thoughts flashed through his mind, of which, perhaps, the most vivid was-If he were smashed would any one give Ruth the ribbons? and would she treasure them? But he could not stop to realise anything as he urged the engine on fastfaster-faster than the parliamentary train had ever been known to fly before. Through the cuttingcould they do it? The station lights at last, and just as Jack felt they had really got up full speed, the fireman warned him they must shut off steam for stopping. He could hardly control a frantic sensation that the only safety was] in dashing on; but, with the help of the fireman and of the guard's brake, the train was brought to a stand just beyond the siding. The pointsman grasped the emergency; they backed, and they were barely in the siding before the "Thunderbolt' rushed by at lightning speed, taking Jack's breath away, and he stood for a minute so stunned and dizzy that he did not know the danger was over till he heard the fireman say, 'She's saved, sir! thanks to you;' on which he drew a long breath, and said, "Thank Heaven!' in a low, quiet voice, that the fireman told his wife afterwards did him as much good as a sermon; and then he shook himself and remarked, in the most matter-of-fact tone, 'And now to see what is to be done next;' and the fireman thought him the coolest hand he had ever seen. He little knew what a lump there was in his throat, nor how hard it was to keep either voice or hand steady as the station officials came up to hear what had happened, and see if the engine was fit to go on.

Help could only be obtained by telegraphing to a junction some way up the line; and, meanwhile, Jack volunteered to take some carriages back for the passengers, if the station-master approved, which did not admit of much doubt, as, had he volunteered to drive a train to the moon, the offer would probably, at that minute, have been cheerfully accepted; and nothing in his manner betrayed how much more nervous he

left than when he knew the Thunderbolt' was close behind. It was dark when they reached the spot where the passengers had been left, but all were anxiously watching for news, and they were greeted like shipwrecked mariners. Jack was at once requested to go and see the engine-driver, who had been tended by a doctor amongst the passengers, and was likely to do well if he did not become too much excited. It seemed to relieve him to let out his feelings to Jack, assuring him there was not a driver on the line who would not give all he possessed to do as he had done, and a good deal more to the same effect, which would

have made Jack horribly shamefaced had he not been honestly convinced that the guard and fireman were the chief heroes of the exploit, for they had risked it deliberately, believing it all but hopeless, while he had acted on impulse, 'because it came over him,' almost without stopping to think.

The return journey was made without adventure, and another engine and driver were found at Mangleston ready to take the train on, so Jack escaped as quickly as he could, parting from his two brave companions with a hearty grasp of the hand that spoke far more than words. (To be continued.)

that those who once joined it as little maidens are now young women-thoughtful, we hope, and brave and unselfish, working for our cause, or only waiting to be set to work? Also that our ranks are being constantly recruited by other young women of character and education, who love our Society though they have not grown up in it. So that altogether we have now a large army of Elder Members, who will, I am convinced, form more and more the real strength of our Society, in union with our Associates-its leaders and officers.

Just nine years old is our G. F. S. to-day, and we are 100,000 strong or more; and we have got a battle to fight which will need all the courage, both of those who lead and those who follow. We have got to conquer sin by love; to fight on behalf of our womanhood in the strength of Him who came to be born of a woman; to wrest from the great enemy, whose first victim was a woman, those weapons which he uses with such deadly aim; to conquer loneliness by friendship, evil tempers by patience, earthly passion by showing the fair ideal of a true and holy love; to meet the dangers of ignorance by experience, of idleness by healthy work, of low, exciting pleasures, by the brightness of innocent recreation. And in all this who could help more practically than our Elder Members ?

I will tell you this month of one thing which I have very much in mind. I think you, dear friends, might more often influence our younger girls by warning them against temptation, and by holding them back from dangers to them unknown. Only the other day I heard such a sad story (but oh! such a common one) of a young, innocent girl, living with her grandmother in the country, finding it dull, coming up to London to a house of business, getting into bad

lodgings, and finally losing, alas! all that is most precious to a woman-good name, and purity, and health.

Now just think how different it might have been if that girl could have had an older friend to be as an elder sister to her. Some girls will not listen to the warnings of mothers and grandmothers-they think old people are foolish and timid-that they see lions in the way everywhere-that they do not understand young folks; and then they get mad with the dulness and monotony of their lives, or their heads are turned with the romantic nonsense of some trashy novel, and suddenly casting to the winds all they have loved and learned at home, they go forth to seek their fortune as sheep among wolves-to be robbed and wounded, and too often left to die, body and soul. But these same girls would be far more likely to listen to you to you who are nearer their own age, but yet have seen more of life; you might often keep them within the safe shelter of home when we should fail; or if go they will or must, you could use all your influence to induce them first to secure a safe home or respectable lodging, or, still better, a friendly welcome at a G. F. S. Lodge.

Remember, then, dear friends, that we look to you as wo as to ourselves to be 'the friends of the girls.' Take this one special matter of protecting those entering on a new life, and possessed of new liberty. Think over the matter and pray over it; call to mind the girls you have known whose lives, now ruined and lost or wasted, might have been saved for Christ and His service by a sister's hand, and then try what you can do, quietly, as occasion offers.

Elder Members, what can you do for the G. F. S.? Rather would I say, What could you not do, if you would but use your power?