"But how to come?"
Kathie hesitated. It seemed that she knew so little herself, how then could she direct another? She remembered the other time when she failed to bear witness, and though her shy, delicate nature shrank from anything like a parade of her most sacred feelings, strength was given her when she asked for it.
"I do not know how it is always—" in her sweet, faltering voice, "but when I first wanted to try—to be good,—to follow Him even a little, it was just as if I reached out my hand and prayed him to take it, and kept close to him by endeavoring to do what he wishes—"
"And you did not have—any great light—"
"I had only a love and a desire to obey him. And it seemed as if everybody helped me,—mamma, Aunt Ruth, and Uncle Robert. But there is always something to overcome, some battle to fight."
"And I am a poor, raw recruit. Do you think He will accept me, Kathie?"
"Every one—to the uttermost."
They walked to the corner, where their paths diverged.
"I wish you would come and see me," Kathie said, with her ready grace. "Fred was there occasionally last summer, and Uncle Robert liked him so much!"