on."

"But God does not work arbitrarily, but by laws of progression. Nor does
His omnipotence include the working of contradictions. He cannot both
cause a thing to be and not to be at the same time. If it is a law that
that which has grown by struggle and effort shall be most noble, God
will not arbitrarily reverse that law or truth because the creation of
sinless beings would involve less trouble."

"It all seems to me so unreal!" exclaimed Erica. "It seems like talking
of thin air!"

"I expect it does," said Charles Osmond, trying to realize to himself
her position.

There was a silence.

"How did this man of whom you speak come to desert our side?" asked
Erica. "I suppose, as you say he was one of the finest men you ever
knew, he must, at least, have had a great intellect. How did he begin to
think all these unlikely, unreal things true?"

"Donovan began by seeing the grandeur of the character of Christ. He
followed his example for many years, calling himself all the time an
atheist; at last he realized that in Christ we see the Father."

"I am sorry we lost him if he is such a nice man," was Erica's sole
comment. Then, turning her beautiful eyes on Charles Osmond, she said,
"I hope my note did not convey to you more than I intended. I asked you
if you would teach me Greek, and I mean to try to study the character of
Christ; but, quite to speak the truth, I don't really want to do it. I
only do it because I see I have not been fair."

"You do it for the sake of being a truth-seeker, the best possible
reason."

"I thought you would think I was going to do it because I hoped to get
something. I thought one of your strong points was that people must
come in a state of need and expecting to be satisfied. I don't expect
anything. I am only doing it for the sake of honesty and thoroughness. I
don't expect any good at all."

"Is it likely that you can expect when you know so little what is there?
What can you bring better than an hones mind to the search? Erica, if I
hadn't known that you were absolutely sincere, I should not have dared
to give you the pain I gave you yesterday. It was my trust in your
perfect sincerity which brought you that strong accusation. Even then it
was a sore piece of work."

"Did you mind it a little," exclaimed Erica. But directly she had
spoken, she felt that the question was absurd, for she saw a look in
Charles Osmond's eyes that made the word "little" a mockery.

"What makes