God knows!”
Before Antoine had finished, men and women were rocking back and forth and sobbing like children, and when the last strains of the song died away, it seemed minutes before any one spoke, and then a woman, who an hour before had entered the room with a brazen face and a foul-mouthed ejaculation, cried out in heart-broken tones: “Oh, sing it again—God knows! God knows!”
Softly, as if taken up and echoed by angel voices, Antoine sang once more the last stanza, and before the lingering notes were lost on the air, he was at the woman’s side clasping her hand in his.
Instantly Gilbert, with Margaret and Elsie on either side and Lizzette and the children following, left the platform to mingle with and take the hands of those present. They passed among them with words of cheer and good-will, and when order was again called, there was an unmistakable look of eager expectancy upon the faces that was balm to the watchful eyes of Margaret and Gilbert. Advancing to the front of the platform, the latter said simply:
“My friends: I am glad you trusted me sufficiently to come here to-night. We hope to have many more such nights together, and I only ask you in going away to remember that, sad as is the pathway of life for many of us, there is light ahead. The soul of man through which God seeks to work the salvation of the world is not dead but sleepeth. Slowly it is awaking, and love that abides in the world shall some time teach men that its universal practice must be ‘Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so unto them.’”
CHAPTER XXI.
As the winter grew into early spring, the fame of the Children’s Home Meetings spread so rapidly that a larger audience-room became an imperative necessity. The churches began to inquire into the matter, and Margaret and Gilbert were beset with questions as to their creed and purpose. To all such they gave answer, “Our only creed is love, and our only purpose to help each other.”
“Too vague and indefinite; the structure will fall for lack of proper support. You ought at least to have a set of rules.”
“So we have,” replied Margaret, “but they spring from the need of the hour. We have order at our meetings because even disorderly natures find that to keep the peace best subserves the interest they feel in the all-pervading friendship we are seeking to establish. Beyond this we keep in sight, although not obtrusively, the axiom, if such it may be called, that the interest of one is the interest of all, and transversely, that the interest of all is the interest of one. When these simple truths have become the bone and sinew of belief and practice, then we may go a few steps farther as the way opens and light dawns.”
“You must have an ultimate line of procedure marked out—some plan as to its religious aspect, have you not?”