"Yes; but it wouldn't be loving you, and God says we must love Him. Even if I can believe in Him, I can't make myself love Him. I am sure I would if I could."
"If it is true that you cannot love Him, then He will not condemn you at the last day."
"It's all perfectly horrid!" cried Gabrielle, bewildered and excited.
"Don't say so, my poor child!" said Mrs. Grey, drawing the girl to her and kissing her burning cheeks. "Christ is altogether lovely, and all His paths are peace. He puts no difficulties in your way; you make them yourself. Now let me ask you one question. Have you not asked our Lord to save your soul?"
"Yes; hundreds of times."
"And has He refused hundreds of times?"
"He must have, for I am not saved."
"Will you prove to me that you are not?"
"Why, if I was saved I should be full of joy; and instead of that I am full of misery."
"Well, now, here are two poor men, brothers, and they are homeless, and friendless, and weary, and heavy-laden; but a rich man dies and leaves them each a fortune. One of them learns this to be the case, and is relieved of care and want; the other has not heard of his good luck, and therefore is, to all intents and purposes, as poor as ever."