a sort of maze, hearing and
yet not hearing, and longing in her very soul for something that she did
not hear--that is, she did not hear it distinctly and fairly stated, so
that she could grasp it and act upon it; and yet it was shadowed all
around her, and hinted at in every word that was uttered, so that it was
impossible to forget that there was a great something in which the most
of these people were eagerly interested, and which was sealed to her.

She felt it dimly all the while that Dr. Eggleston was speaking; she
felt it sensibly when they sang; she felt it in the chance words that
caught her ear on every side as the meeting closed--bright, fresh words
of greeting, of gladness, of satisfaction, but every one of them
containing a ring that she could hear but not copy. What did it mean?
And, above all, why did she care what it meant, when she had been happy
all her life before without knowing or thinking anything about it?

As they went down the hill to dinner, she loitered somewhat behind the
others, thinking while they talked. As the throng pressed down around
them there came one whose face she instantly recognized; it belonged to
the young man who had spoken to her on the boat the evening before. The
face recalled the earnest words that he had spoken, and the tone of
restful satisfaction in which they were spoken. His face wore the same
look now--interested, alert, but _at rest_. She coveted rest. It was
clear that he also recognized her, and something in her wistful eyes
recalled the words _she_ had spoken.

"Have you found the Father's presence yet?" he asked, with a reverent
tone to his voice when he said "the Father," and yet with such evident
trust and love that the tears started to her eyes.

She answered quickly:

"No, I haven't. I cannot feel that he is my Father."

They went down the steps just then, and the crowd rushed in between
them, so that neither knew what had become of the other; only that
chance meeting; he might never see her again. Chautauqua was peculiarly
a place where people met for a moment, then lost each other, perhaps for
all the rest of the time.

"I may never see her again," Evan Roberts thought, "but I am glad that I
said a word to her. I hope in my soul that she will let Him find her."

If Flossy could have heard this unspoken sentence she would have
marveled. "Let Him find her!" Why, she was dimly conscious that she was
seeking for Him, but no such thought had presented i