nnie quietly replied. "Oh, indeed!"

"I feel what you said out of Scripture to be quite true; and that it is
a great blessing that God has set the quiet grave before our eyes for
such as can find no other rest. But I would not forget that there is
another and a better rest, without waiting for the grave."

"You are so narrow, Annie! You judge of everybody by yourself!"

"That is a great danger I know," Annie agreed. "And I cannot speak from
my own knowledge of being troubled by the wicked. But I have read and
heard much of good men who were buffeted by the wicked for the best part
of their lives, and at last got over being troubled by it, and more than
that."

"Ah! gloried in it, no doubt. Everyone is proud of something; and they
were proud of that."

"Some such I fear there may have often been, madam; but I was not
thinking of those that could fall into such a snare as being proud of
the ill-will of their brethren. I was thinking of some who felt the ill
opinion of their brethren to be very humbling, and who humbled
themselves to bear it. Then in time they had comfort in forgiving their
enemies, and at last they grew fit for a sweeter pleasure still which
yet remained. Not that, as I believe, they spoke of it, unless at
moments when the joy would speak for itself; but then it has been known
to burst forth from the lips of the persecuted--from some as cruelly
persecuted as you, madam, that of all the thrillings that God's spirit
makes in men's hearts, there is none so sweet as the first stirrings of
the love of enemies."

There was no answer, and Annie went on.

"I could believe that there is no love so altogether good--at least for
us here. It is as yearning as that of a mother for her child, and as
tender as that of lovers; and I should say, more holy than either, for
theirs is natural to them in their mortal life, though it may be the
purest part of it; the other love is an instinct belonging to the
immortal life, a tongue of fire, sent down upon the head of a chosen one
here and there, gifting them with the language of angels, to tell us on
this side the grave what we shall find beyond. One must see that to
such as these the wicked have ceased from troubling, and their weariness
has long sunk into rest without help from death."

Lady Carse sighed.

"This was why I was glad, madam, to hear that death had not overtaken
you yet. If you may enter into a living rest which we may see, that
will, und