Florence was speechless with astonishment.
“What do you mean?” she asked, at last.
“I have wronged you,” said Susie. “I see it all now. I have been unkind to you from the first. Will you forgive me?”
Florence was confounded. She had held the paper doubtfully, as if hardly comprehending Susie’s intention, and distrusting her sincerity; but when she asked her forgiveness in tones of such humility she could doubt her no longer.
Tears rushed to her eyes.
“You ask me to forgive you!” she exclaimed, in a voice choked with emotion. “Oh, Susan!”
She could say no more. Sobs impeded her utterance.
Susan went up to her side and put her arm around her softly. This was more than Florence could bear. Such kindness quite overcame her.
“Oh, Susie, how can you forgive me?” she cried.
“‘Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors,’” said her companion, softly. “If Jesus could die for me and loves me still when I so often forget him and all he has done for me, I ought at least not to be severe in my judgment of others. I often think of the parable of the debtor whom his lord forgave, and who went out and, forgetting his release, treated the man who owed him so harshly. I am too wicked, and need too much mercy myself, to be severe on others.”