ether, comparing impressions and experiences
and the light gained upon the Scripture portions which they were
reading simultaneously. Then Winifred rehearsed to Hubert at night
their discoveries and difficulties, and he added the wisdom given to
him to their own. Sometimes his sister quoted to him surprisingly
original and apt comments from Adele and he wondered silently. If he
had wished to hear from the "sensible interior," he now did so, and it
spoke from the depths of a new spiritual insight.

George Frothingham continued to pay occasional court to his ladye
faire. The time for his customary holidays drew near, and as he
arranged for a flying European trip which he had promised himself this
year, it entered his heart to close the anticipated compact with
Winifred for the life journey together. Very sweet were the hopes
which mingled with shrewd business calculations, and he congratulated
himself on assured prospects.

But Winifred was not happy when she thought of him. His coming gave
her pleasure always, and it was anticipated with a shy new
consciousness since the night they had read each other's hearts more
certainly through the tell-tale windows of their eyes. But though his
coming gave her pleasure, it left her always with a disappointment.
Concerning the one thing that had come to be the most vital interest in
her life they were not in sympathy. Sometimes when the beauties in
Christ Jesus seemed most patent to her own soul, it seemed that he must
surely see them if represented to him. But the mention of that Name
froze upon her lips when met with the usual bantering jest, or
indifferent acquiescence, accompanied by a look at his watch or the
sudden memory of an engagement. The conviction could not be denied
that a wall as thick as that of a tomb stood between them in matters of
the spirit.

"He is dead," she confessed to herself in honest grief, "as dead as I
was before my quickening--just as it says in the Ephesians. He makes
no more response to spiritual things than would one of the people in
their graves in the cemetery if I talked to them. And what fellowship
can life have with death? But--but--I love him!"

The Flesh cried out for the sovereignty of human love, but the Spirit
argued for the reign of Christ. Between the two the Soul stood, a
tortured arbiter, and heard the cause.

The Spirit pleaded:

"O Soul, if to you to live is Christ, why do you bring into your life's
closest fe