“Oh,” he exclaimed, “how can you help loving One who is so lovely in character? So kind, so good, so loving, so unselfish that he died the cruel death of the cross that we might be saved?
“One who has been so patient and forbearing with you all these years that you have lived in rebellion against him, and is still entreating you to come to him and be saved!”
He paused for a reply, but none came.
“You like to think that you belong to me? Are my very own?” he said, enquiringly.
“Oh, yes, papa! indeed I do!”
“You love me very much?”
“Indeed, indeed I do!”
“And you value my love?”
“O papa, I don’t know how I could live without it,” she cried, nestling closer to him, and kissing him with ardent affection.
“You look to me for protecting care? You feel safe in my arms?”