“Yes, he has,” speaking with quiet firmness. “The Lord Jesus Christ told me to invite him, and I have done so a great many times, and he has made no answer; and Sallie Calkins has invited you, and you have treated it in just the same way.”
“I didn't believe it.”
“Isn't that being bad? What has He ever done that you should refuse to believe His word, when He died an awful death to prove to you that He was in earnest?”
“You said Dirk had a right to go.”
“So he has. Jesus Christ has given him a right, if he will. I have invited you to my house, and asked you to spend the night in this room, and sleep in this bed. Has any person a right to keep you from doing so?”
“No.” An emphatic nod of the head, and a lingering, almost loving look at the white bed behind her.
“Then cannot you truthfully say that you have a right to be here? My dear girl, it is so faint an illustration of what Jesus Christ has done to give you a right to heaven, that I almost wonder at your understanding it. But can you imagine something of how I should have felt had I urged you to come to me night after night, for weeks and years, and you had turned from me with no answer, or else with scorn?”
“You wouldn't have kept on asking me.” Mart spoke with the assurance of one who had firm faith in her statement.
“No, I presume I should not. I would have said after the third or fourth invitation, 'If she really will not have anything to do with me I cannot help it,' and I should have tried to forget you. This is one of the many differences between Christ and me. He waits, and asks, and asks. How long will you keep Him waiting?”
I have given you only the beginning of the conversation. It was long ere it was concluded.