it, or I didn't know that I wanted it, while he was
here.'

'People that don't know they need comfort, do _not_ need it, I fancy.
You draw fine distinctions. Well, go on, Esther. You have found it,
your letter says.'

'Oh yes, papa.'

'My dear, I do not understand you; and I should like to understand. Can
you tell me what you mean?'

As he raised his eyes to her, he saw a look come over her face that he
could as little comprehend as he could comprehend her letter; a look of
surprise at him, mingled with a sudden shine of some inner light. She
was moving about the tea-table; she came round and stood in front of
her father, full in view.

'Papa, I thought my letter explained it. I mean, that now I have come
to know the Lord Jesus.'

'_Now?_ My dear, I was under the impression that you had been taught
and had known the truths of the gospel all your life?'

'Oh, yes, papa; so I was. The difference'--

'Well?'

'The difference, papa, is, that now I know _Him_.'

'Him? Whom?'

'I mean Jesus, papa.'

'How do you know Him? Do you mean that lately you have begun to think
about Him?'

'No, papa, I had been thinking a great while.'

'And now?'--

'Now I have come to know Him.'

That Esther knew what she meant was evident; it was equally plain that
the colonel did not. He was puzzled, and did not like to show it too
fully. The one face was shining with clearness and gladness; the other
was dissatisfied and perplexed.

'My dear, I do not understand you,' the colonel said, after a pause.
'Have you been reading mystical books? I did not know there were any in
the house.'

'I have been reading only the Bible, papa; and _that_ is not mystical.'

'Your language sounds so.'

'Why, no, papa! I do not mean anything mystical.'

'Will you explain yourself?'

Esther paused, thinking how she should do this. When one has used the
simplest words in one's vocabulary, and is called upon to expound them
by the use of others less simple, the task is somewhat critical. The
colonel watched with a sort of disturbed pleasure the thoughtful, clear
brow, the grave eyes which had become so sweet. The intelligence at
work there, he saw, was no longer that of a child; the sweetness was no
longer the blank of unconscious ignorance, but the wisdom of some
blessed knowledge. What did she know that was hidden from his
experience?

'Papa, it is very difficult to tell you,' Esther began. 'I used to know
about the things in the Bibl