Down stairs Mr. Ried waited as long as he could, curious to know the result of Mart's first impressions. Then he went away, and Gracie went to her room, and the house settled into quiet, and Mr. Roberts, in the library, waited for his wife, while she told over again, with tender words and simple illustrations, the “old, old story,” so fitted to the wants of the world.
How many times has there been a like result.
It was midnight when they knelt together, the fair child of luxury and the child of poverty; but the Saviour, who intercedes for both, bent His ear, and heard again the cry of a groping soul, seeking Him out of darkness, and held out His loving, never-failing arms, able to reach down to her depth, and received her to himself. Who can tell that story? Who can describe how heaven seemed to the girl just then?
It was not what Mrs. Roberts had expected. I cannot even say that it was what she had hoped for. Her faith had not reached to such a height at all. She could hardly have put into words what she hoped. When she ventured to try to tell it to the friends in the parlor, and to you, I doubt whether you understood. She thought to get a hold on the girl; to show her something of God's beauty and love, as it shone through herself; to make her long after something her life did not give, and to gradually lead her to seek after satisfaction in Christ. A long process—something that should unfold gradually, with many discouraging drawbacks, and some days that would look like utter failures. She had schooled herself to be prepared for this, but she had not looked for Him to exert His mighty power to save in a moment. How it had touched her to find a soul, hungry, not for itself, but for a brother, I shall not attempt to tell. The first words she said, after she went back to her waiting husband, a little after midnight, were these:—
“He could not do many mighty works there because of their unbelief. I think that is what is the matter with the world to-day. I wonder if He would not be pleased with one who could throw herself at His feet with a childlike abandon of faith, and expect wonders, yes, and impossibilities, just as a child feels that anything can be done by father? God has shamed my faith to-night. It is as though I had asked for a crumb of bread, and he gave me the entire loaf. That girl up-stairs has not heard of Him before as a Saviour for her; has never thought of such a thing, or, at least, dreamed of its possibility, and yet she has given herself to Him. And Evan, what do you think were the first words she said? 'O Lord, take Dirk, too!' She is on her knees at this moment praying for him. If you could have seen her face when it first dawned upon her that she could tell God about him, and ask for His mighty power to be exerted in his behalf, it would have been a picture for your lifetime. Oh, Evan, Evan, why can we not expect great things of God?”
CHAPTER XXVII. — “AN AWFUL PROBLEM”
Isn't it strange, the ways the Lord takes to answer prayers?
Much prayer had been made for Dirk Colson, but few had thought of his sister. Sallie Calkins, it is true, had come with trembling steps into the light of Christ's love, and had immediately desired to have Mart enjoy it with her, but was very trembling and doubting as to her ability to reach Mart, or to influence her in the right direction. She sent the bonnet and cape to the lecture with a prayer, but she did not look for the prayer to be answered. Verily, He has to be content with faith “less than a grain of mustard-seed.”