"You cannot make yourself, my dear; but He can make you. Ada, submit. Oh, my child, it must come sooner or later! You are His, and He sends it in love. It is so, though we cannot see it now; but I can, and do trust Him that it is so."
Ada lay silently looking in the face which seemed almost grey with sorrow. She pressed his hand earnestly, with filling eyes.
"Think of it, my dear, and ask Him to enable you to do His will, not only by submitting, but by acquiescing."
"Papa!"
"I mean it, dear. Being willing to carry out His perfect will."
Ada felt, as he wished her good-night, that this would never, never, be possible.
But before she fell asleep that night, she had taken the first and the most difficult step in the ladder of self-surrender.
She had prayed to be made willing.
The next morning, when Nellie came in to take away her breakfast tray, she was already half dressed.
"Ada!" exclaimed her sister, astonished. "Can you, dear? Are you well enough?"