t cruelty, Miss Rayner. I suppose he holds the same
views that so many seem to hold. And even in novels now that you get
at a circulating library you constantly come across the same thing--a
kind of contempt for the "old, narrow doctrines," as they call them,
bringing down God's standard to theirs, and condemning what they cannot
understand.'

Miss Rayner laughed.

'You are getting hot over their iniquities. I did not know you were
such a critical young person.'

'I can't bear the Bible being made light of,' I said. 'They cut away
and put their own interpretation on the most solemn truths. Do you
agree with this man, Miss Rayner?'

'In the face of such severe criticism, I should be bold to say I did,'
was the laughing reply; then she added, more seriously, 'I don't really
know what I do believe. Perhaps you would be shocked at some of my
theories. I never trouble my head about doctrines; a man's life is
more important than his creed.'

'And what kind of a life do you believe in?' I asked.

'An upright, honourable life, in which all lying and humbug would not
find a place. A life spent for the good of one's fellow-creatures is
the noblest one, but few attain to that. I think we ought to leave
some the better for our influence when we depart this life.'

'And then?' I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. '"Sufficient unto the day is the evil
thereof." The present is what we have to deal with, not the future.
Don't look so shocked, child. If you question me so closely, what am I
to do? I am not an unbeliever. I go to church every Sunday morning,
and, as you see, I keep up the old custom of family prayers once a day.
Don't judge other people as heathen because they may not think exactly
the same as yourself.'

I said no more. I felt too young and inexperienced to argue with a
woman of such a stamp as Miss Rayner. She would lean back in her
chair, and look and listen to me with an amused twinkle in her eyes;
but as for being convinced of the truth by anything that I said, that,
I knew, was a moral impossibility. Yet, when I went to my room that
night, I prayed earnestly for her, and felt more than ever the comfort
that what was impossible to man was easy and possible to God, and the
Holy Spirit Himself could convince her of her need of a Saviour.

I was a little troubled lest, through cowardice, I had not made as good
a use of the opportunity as I might have done; so the next morning, at
breakfas