the things pertaining to the Kingdom.

"Doctor Randolph," Elise asked suddenly, "what is your conception of
prayer? Evadne says it means to her communion and companionship with
Jesus. She says it is 'the practice of the presence of God.'"

John Randolph's face grew luminous. "To me it means a great stillness,"
he said. "Did you ever think of the silences of God? 'Be still, and know
that I am God,' 'Stand still, and see his salvation.'"

"But are we not to ask for what we want?" asked Mrs. Hawthorne
wonderingly.

"Oh, yes, but we learn to ask so little for ourselves when we love our
Father's will. The trouble is, we, want to do the talking. God would
have us listen while he speaks."

"Then what does it mean to worship God?" she asked. "We cannot always be
in church."

John Randolph smiled. "We do not need to be. If our hearts are all on
fire with the love of God, we worship him continually."

When he rose to go he turned towards Evadne. "How goes life with you
now, dear friend?"

The grey eyes, full of a clear shining, were lifted to his, "I am
absolutely satisfied with Jesus Christ."

Marion was married and living in New York. Louis had taken a small
house, where he lived with his mother and Isabelle. He spent his days in
the monotonous routine of a hank, and to his pleasure-loving nature the
drudgery seemed intolerable, but he said little. Evadne never
complained!

One day he went to see her at the Hospital and she was frightened at the
pallor of his face. She led him to the superintendent's reception
room--there they would be undisturbed. He staggered blindly as he
entered the room and then sank heavily on a sofa near the door. He
looked like an old man.

"Louis!" she cried in alarm, "what is the matter?"

He took a letter from his pocket and held it toward her. It bore her own
name, and the writing was her father's!

"Can you _ever_ forgive?" Then he buried his face in his arms and
groaned aloud. The awful disgrace and shame of it seemed more than he
could bear.

Interminable seemed the hours after Louis had left her, walking slowly,
with that strange, grey shadow upon his face, and stooping as if some
unseen burden were crushing him to the earth. She dared not let herself
think. She must wait until she was alone. At last she was free to go to
her room.

Down on her knees she read the passionate farewell words, which made her
heart thrill, so full of tender advice and loving thought for her
comf