But there was one of the girls who was a cause of much trouble and sorrow to the lady. The name of this girl was Ghuldasta. There were two things in her that occasioned this trouble and sorrow. The first thing was that Ghuldasta had a strange kind of blindness. She could see, and see well, every object that was but a few inches from her, so that she could read, and write, and sew,—and she did these things as well as any other girl in the school; but Ghuldasta could see nothing at even a foot’s distance from her eyes. The girl never saw the path before her, and therefore often stumbled over things that lay in her way, and had many painful falls; for Ghuldasta scorned a careful walk, and never asked for a guide. Ghuldasta had a little ivory box of precious ointment which had been sent to her by her Father, and which, by his command, she always carried in her bosom. “Let my child carefully anoint her eyes with this ointment,” the wise Father had said, “and she will soon see quite clearly, so that she will not so stumble and fall.” Ghuldasta had the ointment always within her reach, but, strange to say, she never cared to use it at all; she contented herself with looking at the outside of the box, on the lid of which was written the name of the ointment—_Self-examination mixed with Prayer_; whilst round the edge appeared the words, _Examine yourselves, whether ye be in the faith; prove your own selves_ (2 Cor. xiii. 5). Ghuldasta had heard that the ointment would make the eyes smart, and she never would put it on hers. “I can see quite well enough,” she would say; “no one can read the Bible better than I; why should I trouble myself with this Self-examination? It would be of no use to me; and I dislike it of all things.”