never mind what your father thought; tell me your
own faith."

Then she grew grave, "My faith is--just--God. In the all.
Seeing--feeling--knowing--with us--for us--never away--in the deep
night of sorrow--understanding. In the far wilderness--hearing. In the
terror and remorse of the heart--when we weep for sin--loving. It is
only one thing in all the world to learn, and that is to learn all
things, just to reach out the mind, and touch God--to find his love in
the heart and so always live in the perfect music of God. That is the
wonderful harmony--and melody--and growth--of each little soul--and of
all peoples, all worlds,--Oh, it is the universe of love God gives to
us."

For a while they were silent, and Madam Manovska began to move about
the cabin, setting the things in order. She did not seem to have taken
any interest in their talk. Harry rose to go, but first he looked in
Amalia's eyes.

"The perfect Music of God?" He said the words slowly and questioningly.

"You understand my meaning?"

"I can't say. Do you?"

She quickly snatched up her violin which lay within reach of her arm.
"I can better show you." She drew a long chord, then from it wandered
into a melody, sweet and delicate; then she drew other chords, and on
into other melodies, all related; then she began to talk again. "It is
only on two strings I am playing--for hear? the others are now souls
out of the music of God--listen--" she drew her bow across the
discordant strings. "How that is terrible! So God creates great and
beautiful laws--" she went back into the harmony and perfect melody,
and played on, now changing to the discordant strain, and back, as she
talked--"and gives to all people power to understand, but not through
weakness--but through longing and searching with big earnestness of
purpose, and much desire. Who has no care and desire for the music of
God, strikes always those wrong notes, and all suffer as our ears
suffer with the bad sounds. So it is, through long desiring, and
living, always a little and a little more perceiving, reaching out the
hand to touch in love our brothers and sisters on the earth,--always
with patience learning to find in our own souls the note that strikes
in harmony with the great thought of God--and thus we understand and
live in the music of God. Ah, it is hard for me to say it--but it is
as if our souls are given wings--wings--that reach--from the gold of
the sun--even to the earth at our feet, and