"I can scarcely realize it all yet," said Lottie, with tears in her eyes. "I suppose it is because you are so natural and true that you seem so odd to me, who have been brought up among those that I fear look at things in false lights." "I think I understand you, my dear," said Mrs. Dlimm, hopefully. "A child's penny toy will hide a great mountain if held too near the eyes. It is thus the eyes of the worldly are blinded by trifles till I fear some will never see God or heaven. But He is teaching you better. As long as you follow His gentle leadings, and the pure impulses of your own heart, all will be well. But as soon as you begin to take counsel of the world and its self-seeking spirit, you will find yourself in trouble. If we wish to prosper and be happy in God's world, we must do His will. This is good, sound common sense, which the experience of every age has borne out. It often seems hard at first, my dear, as you will find out. The scourging was very hard to bear; but Paul and Silas, singing in prison, with their feet made fast in the stocks, were better off than their jailer, who was about to kill himself, and the magistrates, who, no doubt, were in mortal fear because of the earthquake. We, too, can sing, whatever happens, as long as God and conscience are upon our side." It will thus be seen that Mrs. Dlimm was a rationalist as well as a believer, though not of the new school. For some reason, her philosophy was peculiarly acceptable to Lottie, and, though scarcely conscious why, the exhortation to follow the impulses of her own heart seemed especially natural and right; but her fashionable mother would have been alarmed indeed, if she had known that her beautiful daughter was becoming the disciple of Mrs. Dlimm. Though their call was by no means a short one, it passed all too quickly. The memory of it would never fade from Lottie's mind; and it became another link in the chain by which God was seeking to bind her to a better future than her friends could dream of in their earthly ambition. "I am very glad I made this visit," Lottie said, as they were hastening home lest they should be late to dinner. "It was very kind of you to take me so far." He turned and lifted his eyebrows comically. "What do you mean by that?" she asked. "To hear you, one would think that I had been a martyr for your sake, while, in truth, I never enjoyed myself more." "Yes," said she; "but you welcome afflictions and trials of your patience."