“Undoubtedly, if you devote yourself to His service from the proper motives?”
“What is the proper motive?”
“Why,” answered Ernest, “you must serve the Master, not with the object of receiving earthly good, but with the view of making your calling and election sure.”
“I don’t know what to do,” replied Clara, thoughtfully and seriously.
“Give yourself, at once, to Christ, pray for the enlightening influences of the Holy Spirit, and God will bless you.”
“How can I do all this?” suddenly and impatiently cried Clara, “when I am suffering for the——.” She paused, and appeared to be greatly embarrassed.
“Nothing, though,” she added.
“Mrs. Comston,” said Ernest compassionately, “God knows I would be a friend and brother to you. I want your soul saved. Confide in me. Are you afraid to trust me, and acquaint me with your troubles, whatever they maybe?”
“No, I’m not afraid to trust you,” she answered, with tears springing into her eyes, “but I’m proud. I’m ashamed to tell anyone.” She could say no more for several moments, and Ernest waited till she became more tranquil.
“You seem to be the only friend I have in the world,” she continued presently. “I once had plenty of friends, but when misfortunes overtook me, they deserted me, and I have met with nothing but rebukes and insults. I have got so I hate people. I didn’t know the world was so full of mean wretches. People used to envy me, because I had money, but they seemed to me to rejoice when I was brought down to poverty and social degradation. If I wished to be good, I don’t see how I could.”