is over all
and above all, but when our love responds to his, his love becomes to us
a personal experience. Love can reach down when in loving trust we reach
up. Love is like the seed. It manifests no life until it begins to grow.
Like the seed it must rise out of the dark ground into the light of
heaven,--out of self thought into God. God's love to us is like the
sunlight. We can make it our own only by being in it, if we try to shut
up the sunlight, we shut it out. We forget to do wrong when loving God.
As we love God, the love we feel for him goes out to others."

Evadne sighed. "You make it seem a wonderful thing to be a Christian,"
she said.

"To be a Christian, little one, Andrew Murray tells us, 'just means to
have Christ's love.' Real love means giving always, of our best."

[Illustration: THE SILENT FIGURE WITH THE AWFUL ENTREATY IN ITS STARING
EYES]

God so loved that he gave his Son, the essence of himself. Jesus gave
his life, not only in the final agony of the crucifixion, but all
through the beautiful years of ministry in Nazareth and Galilee. There
is a truer giving than of our temporal goods. Our friends, if they
really love us, want most of all what we can give them of ourselves. It
is those who give themselves to the world's need who come nearest to the
divine pattern Christ has set for us to copy, and, if we truly love him,
we shall want not his gifts but himself.

"People seek after holy living instead of perfect loving, they do not
realize that we can be truly holy only as we love, for 'love is the
great reality of the spiritual world.'"

Evadne laid her cheek caressingly against Mrs. Everidge's. "If it were
only you, dear, how delightfully easy it would be, but do you suppose it
is possible for me to love Aunt Kate and Isabelle?"

"Yes, dear child, with the love of God."

"You can't imagine how I dread the idea of going back!" Evadne said with
a sigh. "This summer has been like a lovely dream. How shall I endure
the cold reality of my waking?"

"Where is your joy, little one?"

"Joy, Aunt Marthe!" exclaimed Evadne drearily, "why, I haven't got any
apart from you. Just the mere thought of the separation makes my heart
ache."

"'The joy of the Lord,'" said Mrs. Everidge softly. "If Jesus Christ is
able to fill heaven don't you think he ought to be able to fill earth
too? The trouble is we turn away from him and pour our wealth of love at
earthly shrines. Mary showed us the better way,--