Tryphosa began to sing softly:—
‘O, little bird, lie still
In thy low nest:
Thy part, to love My will:
My part—the rest.’
‘That is His message to me. Yours will be different, for no two of His children get the same training.’
‘I suppose now life will be all duty,’ said Pauline, with a sigh.
Tryphosa smiled.
‘That is not the way I read my Bible. Peter says we must “love the brethren,” and John, “This is Christ’s commandment, that we believe and love,” because “he who loveth knoweth God,” and Paul, “The love of Christ constraineth us.”’
‘Well, but I must do something, my lady.’
‘Don’t fall into that snare, little one. It is what we are, not what we do. The dear Christ wants us, not for what we do for Him, but what He does for us. Listen: “He that abideth in Me and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit, for without Me ye can do nothing.” “He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.” The first great thing for you now is to “get your meaning.”’
Pauline looked puzzled.
‘I do not understand, my lady.’