The new dark-green dress lay on the bed, and some soft, rare laces, a gift to Susan that day from her father, lay beside it. Ruth glanced that way, “Have you tried on the dress since it was finished?”
“No, I thought it would be time enough in the morning, and I had a little reading that I was anxious to do this evening.”
“What are you reading? something that you like?”
“Yes, very much,” Susan said, with a rare smile lighting her pale face; “I only began it the other night. I didn’t know it was so rich. It is the first chapter of Colossians, but I only read to the fifth verse.”
Ruth looked her amazement. “Why, you must have been interrupted very constantly.”
Susan shook her head. “No, on the contrary, I spent very nearly an hour over those four verses; the longer I studied on them the more remarkable they became, and I found myself held.”
“Is the meaning so very obscure?”
“Not at all; the meaning is there on the surface; the only thing is, there is so much, and it leads one’s thoughts in so many different ways. Do you remember the second verse?”
“I don’t remember it at all; very likely I never read it.”
“Well, the second verse is addressed, ‘To the saints and faithful brethren in Christ, which are at Colosse.’ That sentence arrested my thoughts completely. Suppose I had been living at Colosse in those days, could I have claimed that letter to the saints? I stopped over the word and wondered over it, and queried just what it meant, and it meant so much that I should really have gotten no farther than that sentence if I had not deliberately left it and gone on to the ‘Grace be unto you and peace.’ I found my heart craving peace: I think I was somewhat like the child who claims the reward, or reaches out after it, without waiting to be sure whether he has met the conditions.”