“Not real enemies, I think, though I wouldn’t want to be friends, of course, with everybody. But—well, Judge Erskine, I can’t explain to you what I mean. I don’t know how to reason, you see. All I can do is to tell you what really occurred. There is a person whom I disliked; he was very trying to me, and I had to be thrown in his society very often, and I knew I ought to feel differently toward him, because, you know, I couldn’t hope to be of the least help to him, unless I felt differently. So I set myself earnestly to trying, and I succeeded. I have the kindest possible feelings toward him, and I think I am gaining a little influence.”
During this recital Flossy’s fair, peach-blossom cheek had taken a deeper shade, and her eyes drooped low. She was giving what Judge Erskine felt was a bit of heart-history, and he did not know that she realized any personal application. How should the innocent little mouse know anything about his affairs?
“Do you mind telling me how you set to work to accomplish this change?” he asked, and his daughter knew that his voice was almost husky.
“First,” said Flossy, simply and gravely, “I prayed for him; I gave all my soul to a desire for his conversion; I prayed to be shown how to help him—how to act toward him; then I prayed for grace to like him, to be interested in him, and to overlook his faults, or his failings; and then—why, I am not sure there is any ‘then’ to it. It is all told in that word ‘prayer.’ The Lord Jesus helped me, Judge Erskine; that is the whole of it.”
“Do you really think we have a right to pray about the matter of our likes and dislikes?” There was no mistaking the earnestness in Judge Erskine’s voice this time.
Flossy turned wondering eyes on him, as she said, “Oh, yes, indeed! The direction is, ‘Casting all your care upon him,’ and that is a real care, you know.” Ah! didn’t Judge Erskine know? “And then He says, ‘In everything by prayer and supplication, let your requests be made known.’ I couldn’t doubt my right. Indeed it seemed to me to be a duty, not only to pray, but actually to supplicate, to coax, you know, just as I was so tempted to do when a child. It seemed blessed to me to think that the Lord Jesus took such minute notice of our human nature that he knew it would help us to be allowed to keep a subject constantly before him, and to keep coaxing about it. Don’t you think that is wonderful, Judge Erskine?”
“Wonderful!” repeated Judge Erskine, in a moved tone, and he arose and began that pacing up and down the room, which always with him indicated deep feeling. Ruth and Flossy presently continued their talk in a lower tone, until Judge Erskine came toward them again and said, “I will bid you good-night, I think, and thank you, my dear young lady. Your words are strong and helpful; don’t forget them in any future experience of life that you may have; perhaps they will help you through deep waters, some day.”
Then he went to the library. As for Ruth, she sought her room with two thoughts following her: one, that Flossy had been to her father what she had failed in being—a helper; and the other, that possibly she might pray herself into a different state of feeling toward this woman and this girl, who were to her now only heavy, heavy crosses.