"Then He loves _you_," she said, after a moment. "He came from heaven 'cos of you." "It seems like it, my little girl, and yet I cannot bring myself to believe that He can love me." "Don't speak to me, father, for a minute; go away, and look out of the window, and come back when I call you." He rose at once, crossed the room, and stood looking out. In a short time the feeble voice called him back. "Father!" There was a change in the face, the look of pain had vanished, the sweet eyes were as peaceful as ever, and more clearly than ever did that amazing knowledge and comprehension fill them, which never belonged to this earth. "Kneel down, father," said Sibyl. He knelt. Now she laid her little hand in his, and now she smiled at him, and now, as if she were strong and well again, she stroked his hand with her other hand, and at last she feebly raised the hand and pressed it to her lips. "I am loving you so much," she said, "same as Jesus loves you, I think." Then Ogilvie did give a sob. He checked it as it rose to his throat. "It is all right," she continued, "I love you. Jesus is perfect ... and He loves you." "But do you, Sibyl, really love me the same as ever?" he asked, and there was a note of incredulity in his voice. "Seems to me I love you more'n ever" was her answer, and the next instant her soft arms encircled his neck, and he felt her kisses on his cheek. But suddenly, without warning, there came a change. There was a catch in the eager, quick breath, the arms relaxed their hold, the little head fell back on the pillow, the face almost rosy a moment back was now white, but the eyes were radiant and full of a wonderful, astonished light. "Why," cried Sibyl, "it's Lord Jesus! He has come. He is here, looking at me." She gazed toward the foot of the bed, her eyes were raised slightly upward each moment the ecstatic expression grew and grew in their depths. "Oh, my beautiful Lord Jesus," she whispered. "Oh, take me." She tried to raise her arms and her eyes were fixed on a vision which Ogilvie could not see. There was just an instant of absolute stillness, then the clear voice spoke again. "Take me, Lord Jesus Christ, but first, afore we go, kiss father, and tell him you love him." The eager lips were still, but the light, too wonderful for this mortal life, continued to fill the eyes. It seemed to Ogilvie that great wings encircled him, that he was wrapped in an infinite peace. Then it seemed also as if a kiss sweet beyond all sweetness brushed his lips. The next instant all was cold and lonely. CHAPTER XXIII.