He looked half distressed, half puzzled; it seemed a new idea to him.
"Really, my little Elsie," he said, "you are quite original in your ideas, I suppose I ought to feel unhappy about these things, but indeed the truth is, I have never thought much about them."
"Then you don't love Jesus," she answered, mournfully. "Ah! Mr.
Travilla, how sorry I am."
"Why, Elsie, what difference can it make to you whether I love Him or not?"
"Because, Mr. Travilla, the Bible says, 'If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema, maranatha,' accursed from God. Oh! sir, think how dreadful! You cannot be saved unless you love Jesus, and believe on Him. 'Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.' That is what God says in his word."
She spoke with deep solemnity, the tears trembling in her eyes. He was touched, but for a while sat perfectly silent.
Then he said, with an effort to speak lightly. "Ah, well, my little friend, I certainly intend to repent and believe before I die, but there is time enough yet."
"Mr. Travilla," she said, laying her hand on his arm and looking earnestly into his face, "how do you know that there is time enough yet? don't put it off, I beg of you."
She paused a moment; then asked, "Do you know, Mr. Travilla, how near I came to being killed last night?"
He nodded.