she pleased;" it lay open, as if it had opened
of itself to a familiar spot. There were heavy markings around several
of the verses, markings that had not been made by Ester's pencil.
Some power far removed from that which had been guiding her despairing
thoughts prompted her to reach forth her hand for the book, and fix
her attention on those marked verses, and the words were these: "For
thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name
is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of
a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble,
and to revive the heart of the contrite ones. For I will not contend
forever, neither will I be always wroth: for the spirit should fail
before me, and the souls which I have made. For the iniquity of his
covetousness was I wroth, and smote him: I hid me, and was wroth, and
he went on frowardly in the way of his heart. I have seen his ways,
and will heal him: I will lead him also, and restore comforts unto him
and to his mourners. I create the fruit of the lips; Peace, peace to
him that is afar off, and to him that is near, saith the Lord; and _I
will heal him_."

Had an angel spoken to Ester, or was it the dear voice of the Lord
himself? She did not know. She only knew that there rang through her
very soul two sentences as the climax of all these wonderful words:
"Peace, peace to him that is afar off"--and--"I will heal him."

A moment more, and with the very promise of the Crucified spread
out before her, Ester was on her knees; and at first, with bursts of
passionate, tearful pleading, and later with low, humble, contrite
tones, and finally with the sound in her voice of that peace which
comes only to those to whom Christ is repeating: "I have blotted out
as a cloud thy transgressions, and as a thick cloud thy sins," did
Ester pray.

"Do you know, dear Ester, there must have been two new joys in heaven
to-day? First they had a new-comer among those who walk with him in
white, for they are worthy; and then they had that shout of triumph
over another soul for whom Satan has struggled fiercely and whom he
has forever lost." This said Abbie, as they nestled close together
that evening in the "purple twilight."

And Ester answered simply and softly: Amen.

CHAPTER XIX.

SUNDRIES.

Meanwhile the days moved on; the time fixed for Ester's return home
had long passed, and yet she tarried in New York. Abbie clung to her,