will come again."

"Confess to _Him_? How could I? He is such a long way off now, and there
is such a gulf between that I cannot pray to Him."

"Oh, Ruth; you are making a great mistake. You know that Jesus died on
purpose to put away sin, to break down the wall, to bridge over the
gulf. He is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. It is you that
have changed, not Christ. Go to Him at once; it is of no use humbling
yourself and confessing to others if you stop away from Him. He only can
forgive and send peace."

"'Your sins have separated between you and your God,'" said Ruth
solemnly.

"'The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin,'" replied
her cousin.

"Ernest, you are a Christian!" said Ruth suddenly.

"Yes, I hope so," replied the boy, reddening as his shyness and
self-consciousness returned.

"Why did you never talk to me before?" asked Ruth; "you might have
helped me so much. I thought I was all alone and better than the rest."

"It was wrong, I know," he replied, "but I am so foolish I cannot talk
about these things; yet I felt so sorry for you just now, for I thought
you had forgotten."

"Forgotten what?"

"How much God loves you. 'Like as a father pitieth his children,' you
know, Ruth."

She made no reply, but slipped away to her own room to lay her heavy
burden at the feet of the Crucified One.

I remember hearing some years ago of a little child who, being reproved
for some naughty deed, seemed very unhappy, and was seen to steal into a
room close by, where he knelt down and lisped in his baby tones, "Dear
God, _mis'able_." How much there was in that tiny prayer, that one word!
It was indeed the essence of heartfelt prayer, the laying down of the
soul's burden.

Ruth could hardly find words in which to express the cry of her heart,
but when she went downstairs half an hour later there was a peaceful
look upon her face and a gladness in her very step which had been
wanting since she came to Busyborough. She had sought and obtained
pardon, and had rejoiced once more in the sweet texts which she read in
her Bible. She added a long postscript to her home letter, and that
night Ernest found upon his dressing-table a little twisted note
containing these words--

"Dear Ernest,--Thank you for ever and ever.

"Your forgiven and happy cousin,

"Ruth."

CHAPTER XIX.

LIVING IT DOWN.

The holidays were over about the end of January, and Ruth once more