When the tea-things were removed, he called her.
"Mary," he said, "come here.

I want to speak to you." She kneeled beside him, "Mary," he said again, taking her little hand in his two long, bony ones, "I love you, my child, to that degree I can not say; and I want you, I do want you, to be a Christian." "So do I, father dear," answered Mary simply, the tears rushing into her eyes at the thought that perhaps she was not one; "I want me to be a Christian." "Yes, my love," he went on; "but it is not that I do not think you a Christian; it is that I want you to be a downright real Christian, not one that is but trying to feel as a Christian ought to feel.

I have lost so much precious time in that way!" "Tell me--tell me," cried Mary, clasping her other hand over his.

"What would you have me do ?" "I will tell you.

I am just trying how," he responded.