“Where's Glory?”
“She's coming, Father,” said Aggie, and at the sound of her name Glory wiped her eyes and returned.
“And was it by my being lost that you came here to Westminster and found me?”
“Yes, and myself as well.”
“And I thought my life had been wasted! When one thinks of God's designs one feels humble—humble as the grass at one's feet——But are you sure you will never regret?”
“Never!”
“Nor look back?”
She tossed her head again. “Call me Mrs. Lot at once, and have done with it.”
“It's wonderful! What a glorious work is before you, Glory! You'll take it up where I have left it, and carry it on and on. You are nobler than I am, and stronger, far stronger, and purer and braver. And haven't I said all along that what the world wants now is a great woman? I had the pith of it all, though I saw the true light—but I was not worthy. I had sinned and fallen, and didn't know my own heart, and was not fit to enter into the promised land. It is something, nevertheless, that I see it a long way off. And if I have been taken up to Sinai and heard the thunders of the everlasting law——”