As he did so, he looked eagerly for words concerning the kingdom of God. Verses on this subject were easily found when he began to search for them.
"The kingdom of God is not in word, but in power."
"Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God?"
"The kingdom of God is not meat and drink; but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost."
"The kingdom of God cometh not with observation; neither shall they say, 'Lo here!' or, 'Lo there!' for behold! the kingdom of God is within you.'"
"Jesus answered, 'My kingdom is not of this world: if My kingdom were of this world, then would My servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews: but now is My kingdom not from hence.' Pilate therefore said unto Him, 'Art Thou a king then?' Jesus answered, 'Thou sayest that I am a king. To this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness to the truth. Every one that is of the truth heareth My voice.'"
"'Verily I say unto you, except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.'"
The meaning of these passages was dark to Guy Hollys as he read them, yet he caught some glimpses of the grandeur and beauty of the spiritual life they set forth. The last verse he pondered long. How could he, Guy Hollys, become as a little child? That would indeed be a conversion. He knew that he was in spirit far from the kingdom of God. All his past life rose before him, visible now in its true light, his love of ease and pleasure, his pride and worldly ambition, his utter selfishness of heart and barrenness of life. Oh, to begin a higher, nobler life! But how, how?
A flash of light came from the Word. The leaves had opened at the first chapter of Matthew, and there were the words: "'Thou shalt call His name Jesus, for He shall save His people from their sins.'"
Here was his need met, here was a Saviour who could deliver him from the power of his sins. And as Guy Hollys bowed his head on his hands in unwonted humility, and breathed the most earnest prayer he had ever offered, he was conscious of the presence of One mighty to save, and felt that a Hand was stretched out to him, the hand of the strong Son of God, ready to uphold him in the new life he desired to begin. With the faith of a little child, he yielded himself utterly to the Saviour, and the angels of God rejoiced because another son was born into the kingdom.
[CHAPTER XXX]
A GRAND SURPRISE FOR BERYL
SIX weeks of the New Year had come and gone, and already there were tokens of the coming of spring. Sickness and sadness no longer reigned at Egloshayle House. Beryl's fine constitution had asserted itself and shaken off all ill effects of the fever which had brought her so low. She had added some inches to her height during the weeks that she lay in bed, and now looked inelegantly gaunt and thin, but declared herself quite well, except when Miss Burton talked of returning to London, at which suggestion Beryl would change her tone, and say that she really was not strong enough yet to do without Miss Burton's care.
So Hettie Burton stayed on from week to week at Egloshayle, and found it impossible to fix a day for her departure in opposition to the warm entreaties which the mere mention of her going evoked. Mr. Hollys was as urgent for her remaining longer as his daughter, and Miss Hollys, whose nerves had been terribly shaken by recent events, put in a piteous appeal to the same effect.
One bright afternoon, when the air was so mild and the sun so warm that it seemed as if winter had already yielded the sceptre to smiling spring, Beryl, having just returned from a walk, was resting, with her long limbs comfortably curled up, on the sofa in the drawing-room. She was often glad to rest thus, for, not having yet regained full strength, she soon grew weary—a trying experience to her, who in former days had scarcely known what fatigue meant.