yes upon the
commanding figure before them.

This general movement caused Pepeeta to turn, and she observed a sudden
transformation on the countenance of the dove-like Quaker maiden. A
flush mantled her pale cheek and a radiance beamed in her mild blue
eyes. It was a tell-tale look, and Pepeeta, who divined its meaning,
smiled sympathetically.

But the first word which fell from the lips of the speaker withdrew her
attention from every other object, for his voice possessed a quality
with which she was entirely unfamiliar. It would have charmed and
fascinated the hearer, even if it had uttered incoherent words. For
Pepeeta, it had another and a more mysterious value. It was the voice of
her destiny, and rang in her soul like a bell. The speech of the young
Quaker was a simple and unadorned message of the love of God to men, and
of their power to respond to the Divine call. The thoughts to which he
gave expression were not original, but simply distillations from the
words of Madam Guyon, Fenelon, Thomas a Kempis and St. John; and yet
they were not mere repetitions, for they were permeated by the freshness
and the beauty of his own pure feelings.

"We are all," said he, "the children of a loving Father whom the heaven
of heavens cannot contain, who yet dwells in every contrite human heart
as the light of the great sun reproduces itself in every drop of dew.
To have God dwell thus in the soul is to enjoy perfect peace. This life
is a life of bitterness to those who struggle against God, a world of
sorrow to those who doubt Him, and of darkness to those who refuse His
sweet illumination. But the sorrow and the struggle end, and the
darkness becomes the dawn to every one who loves and trusts the heavenly
Father, for He bestows upon all a Divine gift. This gift is the 'inner
light,' the light which shines within the soul itself and sheds its rays
upon the dark pathway of existence. This God of love is not far from
every one of us and we may all know Him. He is to be loved, not hated;
trusted, not feared! Why should men tremble at the consciousness of His
presence? Does the little sparrow in its nest feel any fear when it
hears the flutter of its parent's wings? Does the child shudder at its
mother's approaching footsteps?" As he uttered these words, he paused
and awaited an answer.

Each sentence had fallen into the sensitive soul of the Fortune Teller
like a pebble into a deep well. She was gazing at him in astonishment.