"Oh, it is beautiful! How can you play so! You touch my heart. It is like the angels must play in Paradise. Some people move to laughter and gaiety with their music, and some awe one, and some move to tears, but you draw one up and away to God himself. How do you do it?" He turned round on the organ stool and smiled at her. "Ah!" he said. "You respond to music, you love it. And do you love God, little one?" "When I am in church I do, and when I listen to music; and sometimes when I make it myself." "And never when you are quiet and still? Or do you never give yourself time to be quiet?" "Oh, I am quiet when I see a beautiful sky, or the moonlight over a lake, or the afterglow of the sunset on the snow mountains." He placed his hand on her shoulder. "Thank God every day of your life that you can see these things. He has given you much. What have you given Him? When we love we give." Gentian looked up at him with a wistful gleam in her blue eyes. "Oh, I don't love like that. I give a little money in church sometimes." Sir Gilbert smiled. "It isn't your pocket God wants, but your soul, the little soul that is still fresh and young and full of life and energy." Gentian was silent. She laid her hand on his sleeve and after a minute she said: "I like people to talk to me like that. No one ever has. And I want to get near Heaven. How can I give God my soul when I am alive? I hope He will take it when I die. When I think of Our Lord on the Cross I love Him, but I do not think often enough. I forget! There is so very much to interest me in the world. I want to see all I can, and know all I can, and do all I can. It does not give me time for thinking much." "Will you spare half an hour every evening before you go to sleep, to think about these things?" "I will try," was Gentian's sober reply. "If you live your life in touch with God, you will make a success of it. If not, you are one of this world's failures." "I do not like being a failure, but I love to be happy. I could not go into a convent and stay there as so many good women do." "God forbid. He wants you to enjoy life abundantly, but to enjoy it with Him, and in His service." "Play again to me, it helps me to think." So the blind man turned to his organ, and soon Handel's beautiful "Comfort ye my people" was pealing through the silent hall. Mrs. Wharnecliffe slipped back to listen to it. When it was over Gentian's eyes were full of tears. But when they moved into another room to have tea, she exerted herself to talk. George Damers came back; he was a tall grave-looking youth, with something of Sir Gilbert's sweet expression about his face. He was very attentive to Sir Gilbert's wants, but when the meal was over Sir Gilbert asked him to show Gentian the conservatory. The brilliancy and variety of flowers there delighted her. "What a pity Sir Gilbert can't see his flowers. Why does he have them?"